PGDO: The Sheriff and the Bandit

[Jim Roberts]

[Feb 3 PM – Spindrift]

> And then the show was over, the brighter lights fading, and the more
> evenly distributed “house lights” around the lagoon returning.

“*That* was quite a show!” Josie exclaimed.

“Wasn’t it, now!” Tramma agreed. “Can we bring Vilma and Uta to see this
sometime? I think they’d love to see it, particularly as one of their
big gun Vowsisters occasionally crashes the party, and takes the side of
the pirates. It’s the only time in this show that the Navy actually
loses. Kinda sorta. But then this pirate Keeryte celebrates her victory
by burying some new pirate booty in the basement of the Imperial
Treasury, so nobody really minds.”

Mithi and the others laughed. The always practical apprentice mage then
asked, “Do we need ta be somewhere next? Oi was ‘opin’ ta see the inside
of that famous volcano.”

Tramma considered for a moment, and then grinned. “I bet we’ve got time!
We won’t be able to dawdle, so if Fin’s willing, we can come back
sometime, but c’mon! Even a quick glimpse is well worth seeing.”

Finfin nodded his willingness, and what was now clearly Tramma’s
entourage followed the bard as she led her pals into the pretend wooden
longhouse that was the hotel’s main entrance. Ornate tropical plants and
a squat tiki smiled at them as the silver haired performer led her
friends deeper within. Just as at Ragnir’s and the Casino Royale, the
main gaming rooms were conveniently nearby, nestled in what appeared to
be ornate rocky caverns, coloured dwarven stonelights giving an eerie
subterranean vibe.

Some minutes later, they emerged once again outside the longhouse beside
the pirate show lagoon. All of Tramma’s crew were looking impressed, and
the wizards among the group in particular were looking rather dazed.

“Cor,” Mithi breathed reverently. “Oi’d ‘eard that the Volcano Room wuz
quite the sight. But Oi ‘adn’t imagined…” Her voice faded off into quiet
awe.

“It really IS quite the sight,” Tramma agreed. “Justly famous.”

“I could spend ages just *trying* to analyze and figure out all of those
magical effects,” Val mused dreamily.

“Figures,” Josie snorted. “You mages can’t just look at the pretty
lights and enjoy them?”

From Mithi’s pocket, Piper chittered irritably. Finfin replied, “I
agree with Piper. Understanding *how* something works just increases
one’s appreciation for its artistry at a whole new level.”

“Just like us and music, Kittycakes,” Tramma gently prodded the bandleader.

Josie considered the notion for a moment, and then grinned. “Got me
there, Songbird.”

While they were talking, Tramma was continuing to urge her companions to
continue their stroll along Casino Row. The silver haired bard was not
exactly in a hurry, but it was clear to all that she intended to be
somewhere for an appointment. Their destination became clear as she led
her pals towards a casino prominently labelled “The Sheriff and Bandit”.
Appropriately enough, the decor resembled a rustic sheriff’s office in a
backwater, provincial town. Only grown large. Had it been reduced down
to normal size and stripped of its gaudy lights, the facility would not
have looked at all out of place in Fort Lucas.

Once inside, the theming continued. Conveniently spaced iron bars
separated the check in desk from the guests, and swing doors lifted from
bardic tales of northern Tedlidorian saloons marked the entrances to the
various gaming rooms. The costuming within continued the theme. Pit
Bosses were dressed as lawmen, the dealers and croupiers as dress
shirted clerks and piano players, and the waitstaff in black and white
striped prison uniforms that unlike “real” prison attire were specially
tailored to accentuate the figures of the staff.

The theming was further amplified by the ever present sound of a “honky
tonk” piano evenly spread over the gaming rooms, the tinkling notes
forming a counterpoint to the continuous clatter of dice and the whirl
of the gaming wheels. More than one mage suspected that the music was
magical in origin rather than from an actual instrument. This impression
was confirmed when, perhaps annoyingly, the music would pause for a
perfectly timed pair of beats each and every time a newcomer would push
through any of the swing doors into one of the gaming rooms.

Tramma grinned at her companions. “Yeah, not the most artistically
advanced place the Row has to offer,” she admitted. “But the punters can
come here and be reasonably sure of not getting mauled at the tables or
mugged outside. But we’re not here to gamble. The stages are upstairs.”

“Who’s playing?” Josie asked.

A grin was part of Tramma’s answer. “You’ll see, Kittycakes.”

After ascending a broad set of stairs, the silver haired bard ushered
her pals into what was apparently one of the smaller of the “side
stages” across from the larger “big tent” main hall. A sign outside this
side stage modestly advertised “Open Mike”. Finfin was unsure just who
Michael was, or why his open proclivities would be worth watching, but
Tramma explained even as she drew her friends into the currently empty
room towards its modest stage.

“The Sheriff isn’t known for bringing in top gigs,” she stated
dismissively. “Not like the Casino Royale. Instead, the Sheriff puts its
money into keeping a family friendly and above all *straight* game that
people can feel safe coming into at all hours. But everyplace has gotta
have *some* stage shows; it's partof the appeal. So to save money, the
Sheriff sets this stage aside for up and comers from the bardic colleges
to try their luck at no charge, new shows every hour on the hour,
scheduled ahead of time.”

Mithi looked a bit scandalised at the notion. “Talented bards workin’
for free? Aint that kinda… exploitive?”

Tramma merely shrugged. “Maybe. But remember, most of the players here
are up and comers, eager to do anything for some publicity, and for a
chance to improve their trade. So it’s mostly a win/win; we get stage
time and exposure without having to pay anything, and the Sheriff for
free gets something to bring in the punters and *sometimes* gets in a
really hot act or two that can bring in a *little* bit of extra business.”

As they approached the rather careworn stage, a few young folks emerged
from one of the two “wings” behind the side curtains and eagerly called
down to the silver haired bard. Finfin was not an expert at human names
and faces, but he thought he recognized several from their previous
visit to Tramma’s alma mater. Particularly the one lanky gent who
graciously gave Tramma a helping hand to swing up onto the stage.

“I was getting worried you were gonna be late,” he stated as the rest of
Tramma’s pals took the more circuitous route up onto the stage by a
short staircase off on stage right.

“Me, miss a show?” Tramma asked. “Never!” A raised eyebrow from the
gentleman had the silver haired bard giggle as she added, “Well, OK, you
got me there. But not while I’ve been sober.”

“Everyone,” Tramma announced as her pals joined her up on stage, “please
meet Talele, an old pal of mine from school.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Talele warmly greeted the assembled “schoolgirls”
and their elven escort. “You brought your guitars?”

His meaning dawned on the Pussycats. “You mean, *we* get to play?” Josie
exclaimed.

Val only laughed. “You’ll have to forgive her; Josie’s sometimes a
little slow on the uptake. But yeah, with the Cap’n’s help, we’ve got
our axes.” Finfin nodded, finally understanding why he’d been asked to
bring along Josie’s guitar and Val’s bass in his Bag of Holding.

One of the ladies in Tramma’s college entourage was guiding Mel to a
modest drumkit in mid assembly upstage center. “It’s nothing flashy,”
the lady apologized as one of her pals was finishing assembling a high
hat cymbal stack between some basic toms. “We kinda signed it out
without the paperwork, and have to get it back before Monday morning.”

Mel sat atop the stool behind the drum kit, lovingly running a hand
along the near edge of the toms while exploring the foot pedal of the
central kick drum. “It’s wonderful,” she mused dreamily.

Meanwhile, Talele was escorting Tramma and the others offstage in one of
the wings. “This is the part that really worries me,” the gentleman
friend mourned as he looked down on some Stage Magic gear that had
clearly seen better days. “I know you’re not a heavy gearhead, Silver,
but you’ve got to listen here.”

Tramma merely grinned at Talele, and waved Val forward. “I’m listening,”
the dusky Pussycat said seriously.

Talele nodded, grateful that he was now in touch with the group’s more
technically minded performer. “The field pickup coils on this rig are
basically shot,” he began, waving to a section of the rig’s control
panel that had been covered with a large industrially stencilled sign
that read “INOP”.

“So we won’t be picking up any Vibes from the audience,” Val mused.

“Right!” Talele replied enthusiastically, clearly happy to be talking to
someone who clearly “got it”. Continuing his briefing, he lamented,
“Which is just as well, as there’s an intermittent short in the Leyden
Jars.” He gestured to a small cardboard sign covering a pair of switches
that had been crudely labelled “NO!”.

“So leave these in the cutoff position,” he explained, “unless you want
your show to end early and with a heck of a bang.”

“Got it,” Val stated firmly.

Talele nodded. “Good. I’m not sure that Tramma does, though. Gear was
never really her thing. Does she understand that with no working pickup
coils and no way to store any Juice, this whole kit is just a boat
anchor unless you just happen to have a wizard or two handy to keep
dumping in raw manna to keep the thing ticking over?”

Val chuckled as she waved Finfin and Mithi forward. “Tell us wot we ‘ave
ta do,” Mithi stated simply.

Soon afterwards, it was near the top of the hour, and almost Showtime.
After listening to Talele’s lecture, all of the wizards agreed that
Finfin alone could easily power the contraption, leaving Val free to
focus exclusively on her bass, and Mithi available for other tasks.
Which turned out to be just as well.

Tramma pulled the apprentice mage aside and explained, “I’ll open up the
act with some light comedy before handing off to the Pussycats. Where
you can really help me is with some fancy effects. We’re stuck with just
House Lights, but I figure if you and me send some flashy simple light
pulses back and forth in time to their music, it’ll help.”

“Oi’ll do me best,” Mithi stated dubiously.

Tramma laughed. “It’ll be fun. Just keep a Prestidigitation running, and
I’ll do the same. I’ll set the pace, and just match what I do.”

At the appointed top of the hour, Tramma was as good as her word. As
small as the sidestage’s hall was, it was mostly devoid of customers. It
was getting on in the evening, and only the truly hardcore music fans
tended to hang out in one of the Sheriff’s Open Mike sessions. At first.

However, Tramma’s comedic banter soon had the few audience members
roaring with laughter. And by no accident of timing, this brought in
more than a few curious souls who had been milling around outside after
leaving the “main hall’s” earlier show. Which led to more and more folks
following the sound of laughter.

By the time Tramma introduced the Pussycats and handed over the show to
the trio of weretigers, the small hall was half full, and more and more
people were slowly streaming in. True to her word, Tramma stood off to
one side at downstage left, beginning a simple display of basic flashing
lights and sparkles. Across at downstage right, Mithi did her best to
match Tramma’s display. The result was nothing like what a full stage
magic deck could perform – not with simple Prestidigitations – but even
these modest effects helped punctuate the Pussycats’ playlist.

All while Finfin, backstage in the wing with the crippled Stage Magic
gear, very slowly fed one low list spell after another into the receptor
grid of the cobbled together kit, just enough to keep the plates of the
Jeffries Tubes charged and the filaments dimly glowing. And the result
was worth it as the Pussycats’ pulsing chords and vocals were amplified
to fill the small hall, and beyond.

The room was packed to overflowing when Josie led the band into their
final number. Their finale had been suggested by Tramma to take
advantage of the “schoolgirl” attire of all five attractive ladies up on
stage. To a fierce beat punctuated by Mel’s drums and Val’s bass, Josie
led into the show closer.

We are the best, so screw the rest
We do as we damn well please
Until the end
St Trinian's
Defenders of anarchy

The entire audience was up on their feet, cheering and swaying in time
as the Pussycats led into their final stanza, bracketed by Tramma’s and
Mithi’s sparklers.

Victorious, rebellious
We do as we damn well please
Until the end
St Trinian's
Defenders of anarchy
ST TRINIAN'S!

The applause was, if anything, even more deafening than the Pussycats
music, amplified by Talele’s dubious stage kit and powered by Finfin’s
magic. By universal acclaim, the audience was all on their feet in a
raucous standing ovation that only swelled as the performers lined up
for their curtain call. All *five* performers; the Pussycats were
emphatic in bringing both Mithi and Tramma into the lineup as they took
bow after bow to the room’s acclaim.

From his vantage off in the wing, Finfin felt his heart swell as he
watched Mithi’s face glow. The plucky Yelti shopgirl was completely
unused to being in the center of this sort of attention from a crowd of
admirers. And the elf was heartily glad that his lover and apprentice
was finally getting her well deserved chance to shine. Hopefully he
would be blessed with a way to properly thank the others at the right time.

Next to the elf, Talele sidled up and pointed down to the glowing
Jeffries Tubes. “Probably want to shut it down now,” he advised.
“Otherwise, the buildup up here on the stage might get, well…”

Talele had no need to finish his sentence, as Finfin cut off his most
recent spell, and Tramma’s gentleman friend carefully lowered a few
sliders and turned a few dials ever so slowly until they all read “zero”
and the glow from the Tubes faded. Flipping a final switch safely had
the whole kit powered off.

By now, the ladies had taken their final bow and were now in the wing,
wearing manic grins as they eagerly bounced and swarmed around both
Finfin and Talele.

“That was *wonderful*!” more than a few chorused.

“It *really* were!” Mithi emphatically exclaimed.

Any further conversation was cut off as all five ladies pulled each
other into a massive group hug that had Finfin at its center. And not
coincidentally, Talele.

“Where have you ladies been hiding,” Talele demanded eagerly? “You’re
good, REALLY good, better than a lot of the headliners on the big
stages. Or wait, you’re in from Kamyrie, right? Tramma didn’t tell us
she was emigrating somewhere with a kick-ass band, but just like her to
turn up with an amazing act outta nowhere.”

“I am not sure you’d believe us if we told you,” Josie laughed. “But
yeah, we’re semi-pro in our little part of the world, but believe me,
this trip is a real eye-opener for us.”

“My mom worked the strip before I was born,” Val interjected. “So I grew
up with stories; but way out in the backwoods. Mel is the only one who’s
ever seen the bright lights of the big city before.”

“This is WAY better than Berwd,” the blond drummer nodded brightly. “The
very best festhalls there *might* have a setup like this, but none of
them have anything like some of the ‘big tents’ we’ve seen this evening.”

“Now I am even more intrigued,” Talele admitted. “Sounds like you gotta
backstory as well as a helluva sound. You girls ROCK.”

“Wanna come back to the Afterparty with us?” Tramma slyly asked her old
school chum. “I think you’d enjoy it!”

Talele chuckled ruefully. “Seeing how wound up you and your buddies are?
I just bet I would!” Pulling the back of his hand to his forehead, he
struck a mournful pose as he lamented, “Alas! You know full well,
dearest Tramma, that my tastes do not run in that direction.”

Glancing over at Finfin still pressed against him in the group hug,
Talele continued, “Now, if this fine elf were available, you might well
tempt me, but I sense his interests do not lie that way, and I imagine
he’ll soon have his… shall we say, ‘hands’ very full indeed.”

Tramma grinned back at him. “One day I’ll tempt you into playing for the
Other Side.”

“Very likely,” Talele agreed genially. “But this is not the day. And I
had best help get this kit back to the conservatory before anyone
notices it’s missing.”

However, Talele was unable to avoid a round of kisses from all five of
the ladies before their paths parted. He did not seem to mind at all,
and was content to limit himself to a handshake with Finfin. “And sir,”
Talele added, “if *you* should ever, as Tramma says, choose to play the
Other Side sometime, please do look me up.”

“It is most unlikely,” Finfin admitted, “but I will certainly keep that
in mind.”

“That is all that a man can ask,” Talele agreed.