Promotional Work: Catching Starlight

Chamberlain Troupe Showcase

"All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players; They have their exits and their entrances." - William Shakespeare, As You Like It

Half a dozen men wearing leather armor held out torches, the firelight dancing across the walls of the underground hall. The man in the front was not holding a torch, but instead a feather that was floating right above his palm. The feather would move a little to the left or right, but it continued to point in the same general direction. It was a magically enhanced compass that was meant to lead the group to the heart of the caverns. Only time would tell if it was going to get them to their destination, or if this was all a trap meant to bury them in an early tomb.

"Are you sure they're gonna be here?" A man in the back whimpered. He looked around the darkness that seemed to be slowly getting closer to him. He held a dagger close to his body. It was meant to protect him, but he trembled so much that he was lucky the blade didn't cut into his own flesh.

"If you question me one more time, I will cut you down," The man in the front of the group said, turning around with a sharp glare. He let his gaze continue over the rest of the group. The one hand that wasn't holding up the feather reached down for the hilt of his sword as a means of threatening the members of their little faction. When he didn't receive any complaints from his subordinates, he continued to follow the ebony feather that guided him forward.

Eventually, the cave opened up into a large cavern. The large room was illuminated by large crystals embedded into the roof. While the multi-colored gemstones were beautiful to view, all the attention was trained on the ground of the cavern. Huge beasts of dark black and purple energy that barely resemble any earthly creature were scattered around the ground. Even the smallest of these creatures was the size of a house, and the rest were soaring skyscrapers that were only dwarfed by the sheer size of the cavern. The men held out their weapons, but the intense trembling that overtook their body was enough to guarantee that they weren't going to win this fight.

A humanoid figure dropped down from the roof near the back of the cavern. The figure had short, almost-bronze hair with starry eyes that seemed to glow even brighter than the gemstones in the roof. The figure was wearing a blue overcoat with gray buttons and white pants. The only reason the figure was not immediately recognized as a human being was because the figure had a potent silver aura surrounding them, a thin white mist that resembled a warm breath on a winter day.

"Is that one of the Chamberlains?" The man with the dagger spoke cautiously. The only thing he knew about the Chamberlain Troupe, the investments of Shakespeare, was from rumors about them. The one soaring in the sky resembled a figure from one of these rumors. They looked like Arwyn, more commonly referred to by the nickname bestowed upon them by Shakespeare: Pasquariello. The rumors implied that Pasquariello was a beautiful dancer, but most people could admit they had never seen a single performance. It was strange considering that Pasquariello followed Shakespeare, a Modern god who wanted to turn everything into a show.

"What the fuck are they intending to do?" The man in the front said. He tried clenching his fist around the ebony feather that led him to the monster-infested cavern. When his fingers snapped shut, the feather floated above the skin, barely missing his hand. He stared at the feather as it continued to float upwards. It remained near him, for now, but he knew that it was seconds away from zipping away to whoever had sent it. The person who had demanded his group meet the Chamberlain Troupe was going to arrive soon, and he was ready to demand answers.

Pasquariello started to fall towards the group. As they passed the monsters, the sword at their side swung out in quick motions. Pasquariello even kicked their legs and flung their arms with grace and precision to make sure their blade broke the skin of every monster. When they finally landed, they had the composure and beauty of a Fae creature. Pasquariello's eyes were closed as they held a pose. The tip of their sword touched the ground while they puffed out their chest to create an illusion of strength. In a single second, their blue overcoat melted into a black breastplate carved with the image of a mask. Their bronze hair lightened into a sickeningly bright snowy white.