Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20190925195201/@comment-5543592-20190927140909

There were spattered bows and cheers from the audience. Someone threw peanut shells at the stage.

"And so the Wheel should turn upon our Battlemage," the woman continued, "and his contest for the throne.  Thus we enter, the Reign of Chaos."

The drum picked up again, and the woman spun, leaving the stage.

Up on the balcony, Jagar Tharn stomped his foot, and held his hand out to the audience.

"A great day has come!  That we should stand on a precipice of times yet unborn, of victories yet unwon.  The Emperor is weak, and with it his Empire.  What would you have, your curs?  That like not peace, nor war?  A fragile realm managed of incompetance and impotenance?  Or a strong one in an iron grasp?"

Tharn flourished his robe, and from within produced a staff with a big piece of quartz painted green affixed to the end.

"With this Staff of Chaos I can make the Ruby Throne mine!  But, oh, such treachery!  It doth not suit me!  To raise my hand against my liege?  There is no greater Oblivion for that!  What a hero I was!  What a hero I could stand to be?  But the line between heroism and villainy is but a drop in the eye against the great blue sea, and none my think me better nor worse."

"It must be done!  For the good of the Empire!  For the good of Tamriel!  And my the sun rise on my Empire, a new one, not just, nor good, but safe and secured."

He flourished the robes again and vanished from the balcony.

Several men dressed completely in black appeared on stage, pushing set pieces in place, setting up for a prison scene.