Part 4: Setting the Stage

Davlu taps her chin. "Hmm. You have made a solid argument for the inclusion of some violent material in the show. Despite my reservations, I will agree to sponsor your opera with these themes intact. I trust you to handle the material tastefully and responsibly."

She gives you a standard-grade dawnsilver breastplate emblazoned with the symbol of Abadar and a full set of elegant dawnsilverware worth 2,000 gp.

---

Ivran Xerysis is the next sponsor on your list. He invites you to meet with him at his family manor in the Greens of Kintargo. The building is modestly sized, compared to the sprawling estates of Kintargo’s 14 major aristocratic families, but lovingly and elegantly appointed interior. This meeting takes place in a library and reading room. The shelves on the walls are filled with leather-bound books, and a desk sits near the fireplace at the other side of the room. A taxidermy albino alligator wearing a suit and monocle stands upright in the opposite corner with a tea tray clutched in its scaly claws.

As the butler closes the door and takes up a position in front of it, the dark-haired man at the desk continues writing for a moment before setting down his pen. Though he’s handsome, he wears an aloof expression. "So you’re putting on an opera," the man says, raising an eyebrow, then glances to the alligator. "Mr. Scaley, give our guests their refreshments, would you?" With a lurch, the alligator moves and offers out the tray. (You quickly realize that the taxidermy is little more than a type of animated statue.)

Ivran listens impassively to your pitch, seemingly bored. He asks you some idle questions about the opera's plot and your past deeds. Afterwards, his bored expression turns into a wry smirk. "Tell you what. I'm far more interested in your martial prowess than your stage skills. If one of you can defeat my butler, Vorens, in a duel, then I'll sponsor your opera."

The elderly butler gives Ivran a nod. Despite his advanced age, the man appears to be in fine shape.

"Vorens was an accomplished duelist in his time," Ivran says. "He's retired now, but he still knows his way around a blade. One of you can borrow my own rapier if you don't have an appropriate weapon of your own."

[B]"The rules are simple. No spells or reach weapons are permitted, nor is any outside interference from bystanders allowed, but anything else is fair game. You will battle until one of you falls or yields,"[/b] Ivran says.

He leads you out of the manor to the central courtyard, where a 15-foot-diamter circular clearing serves for combat training, meditation, and in a pinch, duels. Vorens takes his position, raising his rapier in salute before shifting into an en garde stance.

"Ready?" Ivran calls. "Begin!"

Horace's battlecry takes Vorens aback, the older man wincing as the thaumaturge moves in and attacks. Horace's flaming sword leaves a deep slash across Vorens' chest. "Hmm, not bad," Ivran remarks, watching the duel closely.

Grimacing, Vorens strikes back with his rapier, circling around Horace in a dueling dance to keep him on his toes. Horace expertly parries both of Vorens' attacks.

Despite Vorens' best efforts to dodge, Horace lands a critical hit, sending the elderly man stumbling to his knees. Already badly wounded, the butler indicates his concession by dropping his blade. Despite his injuries, he smirks. "Very well done, lad," he says.

Ivran claps his hands. "Yes, indeed! Quite impressive. You performed better than I had anticipated! You shall have my sponsorship."

To celebrate his sponsorship, Ivran gifts you a storm flash rapier that appears to be made of iridescent crystal yet behaves as if made from metal.

Vorens nods to Bekassine, grateful for her healing ministrations.

***

With Ivran's sponsorship secured, you head next to meet with Ricovial Cebarinne. Ricovial agrees to meet with you in the same sitting room he uses to teach his students out of his estate in Villegre, Kintargo’s scholastic center. Instruments and sheet music in glass cases are displayed prominently in this sitting room in an arrangement that might tactfully be described as "cluttered." A flashily dressed aiuvarin man with long dark hair lounges on a divan on the other side of the room. As the door opens, he waves a hand languidly, the ostentatious rings upon it glimmering in the sunlight.

"Yes, yes, you’d be the producers who wanted to meet with me? You know my reputation, if you’re here. All right then. Impress me."

Ricovial listens patiently to your pitch, but when you mention that you've cast Oriole, he scoffs. "Truly, you've cast them in your play? Oriole knew they could never outdo me. If you ask me, that's why they gave up the stage."

He leans forward. "I will provide funding for your production, but on one condition. I want you to cast me in a prominent role in the opera as well. I will admit, I am looking forward to finally showing that so-called virtuoso what a real stage legend can do."