Part 4: Setting the Stage

Mialari claps her hands once you have all finished your demonstrations. "Very impressive. I am happy to sponsor your opera, but I do have one request that is out of the ordinary. I'll still give you the customary sponsor's gifts, but I don't expect them to appear on stage—they’re for you to do with as you wish. Instead, I would ask simply to have a few lines of text worked into the opera's dialogue—preferably in the context of an aria. This will be my way of advertising my sponsorship—I feel that adding a few custom lines of text to those productions I help finance represent a less distracting method than awkwardly placing product on the stage for all to gawk at."

Mialari hasn’t yet decided on the exact phrase she wants to include but promises to do so at least a few weeks before the opera’s premiere. She’s willing to work with you so that the meter and flow of her lines work well with that of the aria.

"Splendid!" Mialari says. "I'll be in touch as the writing of the play progresses."

You meet with Aphigenia Jhaltero next at the Jhaltero Estate in northeastern Kintargo; she receives all visitors in a colorfully decorated parlor, the walls of which are covered with dozens of posters and fliers for previous plays and operas she’s helped to produce in the past. Aphigenia is a blond woman clad in a ruffled purple gown. She reclines on an armchair, fanning herself idly.

"My butler tells me you all have a show to produce," the woman says, motioning over a maid bearing a tea tray from the corner. "You absolutely must tell me all about it, my dears. Let’s see if your charming venture will benefit from my guidance."

She listens to your pitch attentively. When you have finished, she smiles. "Well, I must say that your opera sounds positively divine. But it's bad luck for me to sponsor a show without approval from my dear Princess Sweetie—she’s such a little connoisseur."

The noble lady looks to her maid, who ducks into a side room, returning carrying a cage. Within the cage is a strangely adorable monkey-like creature with iridiscent wings. Its big eyes gleam in the light, and it lets out a little cooing sound. However, Horace knows that this creature is no harmless house pet, but a beast called a skull peeler, known for its hunting habits of hiding in trees before severing its prey’s head with its long tongue and cracking it open to eat the contents!

"Hello, my little faerieling! Who's a little cutie? You are! You are!" Aphigenia says to the creature, making little kissing noises at it. She then turns to you. "Go on, my dears. Let's see what Princess Sweetie thinks of you."

Horace is well-versed in skull peeler lore! Skull peelers, despite their ferocious and well-deserved moniker, are considered by many to be downright adorable, especially when viewed from a safe distance. Their soft, dappled brown fur helps them hide in forest canopies, and they have shimmering insectile wings and big eyes that draw in the faintest beams of light. At first glance, a skull peeler looks like a cuddly pet or a wizard's familiar. Any illusions of domesticating such a beast are quickly dismissed upon seeing how a skull peeler eats, however.

Skull peelers have evolved to hang motionlessly in treetop canopies as they wait until appropriate prey appears, usually long-necked dinosaurs but also brachiating primates and large birds. The skull peeler then lashes out with its long tongue, severing the creature's head from its body and pulling the detached cranium back into its hungry paws. It then uses its claws to crack open the cranial cavity—hence its name—before lapping up the tasty insides.

Despite skull peelers' gruesome eating habits, some enterprises and individuals can't resist the urge to add these beasts to their menageries. Fey and other creatures with ties to the First World, such as gnomes, can occasionally coax a skull peeler into a form of domestication. While the adorable beasts can never be fully tamed due to their hyper-evolved hunting instincts, they can be bribed with food and, if kept satiated, displayed on a perch or indoor terrarium as an example of their master's cunning and deadliness.

Aphigenia doesn't seem like the bloodthirsty type, however. It's more likely that she's completely oblivious to her pet's true nature.

Aphigenia's eyes widen. "Oh. Oh, my! I've made a huge mistake!" she says. The skull peeler seems agitated, snarling and extending its long tongue. Fortunately, the maid holding the cage heeds your warning as well, quickly dropping it and stepping away. The monkeylike monstrosity shrieks and hisses as it thrashes in the cage.

"Thank you for the warning! I'll see that the creature is safely returned to its natural habitat without harming anybody. You truly are heroes. Of course, I will gladly sponsor your play."

Davlu Bernai is ready to meet with you next in an austere office on the second floor of the Bernai Silver Company warehouse. This room features wall-to-wall cabinets and very little in the way of personality. Davlu is a severe-looking brunette woman in sober dress, seated behind a large desk strewn with paperwork. The office has no chairs for guests to sit at, for Davlu prefers to handle her meetings quickly and efficiently, and "sitting down only invites lollygagging."

"Ah! You’d be my next appointment. The theater producers? I see you’re prompt, at least. My secretary’s briefed me on your proposal, but I wish to hear more about the show before I commit any funds."

Davlu listen carefully to the description of your opera, asking you questions about the plot to make sure it’s not "encouraging debauchery." Topics Davlu objects to include excessive violence, casual romantic relationships, risque scenes, bawdy jokes, and "strong language." She approves of stories of heroic deeds and "morally upstanding" protagonists, especially those who serve Abadar or Torag.