Hey folks! Long time no write, right? Wrong!
This is what I’ve been working on for the past three months or so. Well, not all of it, just a teaser. To keep it manageable for people who’d rather not have to read an entire play in one go, I’ll be posting the entirety of the text scene by scene. Keep in mind that this is not supposed to be the stage-ready version of the piece but rather a published variant.
Most of the inspiration for the play and the incentive to keep on writing it has been provided by my very close friend Linda Lobo, who is also responsible for all the artwork included in and affiliated with the play. More of her art can be found HERE.
A Play in 3 Acts
CAST OF CHARACTERS
|The Ravenlord:||Appears to be a man in his 40’s. A perpetually dark and troubled individual; prefers to hide his unrest behind a smile – he’s very bad at it.|
|The Maiden of Ash:||A woman in her early 20’s. Her thoughts always seem to drift elsewhere. She seems shy, but isn’t. She is regarded as naive, but she does not know the word.|
|Corax:||A raven; one of Ravenlord’s advisers. Constantly seething, almost shaking with anger. Addicted to cigars.|
|Cornix:||Another raven and adviser to the Ravenlord. Always in a jolly good disposition; never skips a chance to flirt with anything that moves. Wears a hat or a hood to hide the gruesome scar on his right eye.|
|The Matron of Ember:||A few centuries old witch. To call her a bitter and venomous shrew would be a grave understatement.|
|The Lady of Matches:||Also a witch; only six minutes younger than her sister, Matron of Ember; appears to be a tall and beautiful woman in her early 30’s. Her smile is a rare sight… but what a sight, indeed…|
|The Town Crier:||An old man in his 70’s. As wise as a rabid dog; as eloquent as a drunkard on death row. He reeks of manure – and despair.|
|Simpletons:||A collective of raggedy peasants, layabouts and overall morons – all that’s left of this god-forsaken village. Somehow.|
Atop The Ravenlord’s Tower. It is close to midnight and a storm is brewing. The Ravenlord is very bored today; he sits upon his elm throne sighing with every breath. Corax is perched cross-legged atop his elm roost with a cigar in his tattered beak, a small jest away from bursting into chaos. Cornix is leaning on the edge of the tower with a wing behind his back and another holding his hat from falling; he has never looked so heartbroken.
And here I thought “no chance in Hell
That I’d toy with such a dame”
Such a flame inside her heart, oh well,
Such a pity, such a shame…
I only wish…
Shut up, peacock, you’re to blame!
If the gentleman’s dissatisfied,
I suggest he joins the bride.
When I’m finished with your hide,
You will wish that you had died…
Perhaps she’s not quite yet dead, love.
I beg of you both, leave me be;
I’ve no need for “remedy”
If your presence is involved –
And no more talk of peace and love.
Sire, we truly do sympathise –
Then leave the corners of my eyes!
I relieve you of your ties.
But my lord, he’s right, for once –
The damnable deluded dunce.
We’ve all got poisons, what’s the fuss?
What will you do without us?
Ease your talons, ’twas a jest…
Our Ravenlord knows best.
Tell me, friends, do you recall
The day I stood atop this tower
For the first time, proud and tall
In my glorious darkest hour?
As if it were yesterday.
The day I soared with song and sorrow,
The first day my wings did sway…
As if it were tomorrow.
I do not, I bring to light –
I’m not quite myself tonight.
[CORAX and CORNIX leave.]
But what is this?