Day 5, and Breeshey’s Vengeance
Day 5 of the 30-Day D&D Challenge asks me to write about my favorite die or dice. Really? I supposed to have an actual favorite die or set of dice? I don’t know how to write about this one specifically, so I’ll go generally.
My eyes aren’t what they used to be. I’m a bit near-sighted, so I wear glasses for seeing things at a distance. Without my glasses, objects farther away than about ten to twelve feet or so get blurry, and the farther away they are, the blurrier they get. With my glasses on, however, distance objects are clear. Also with my glasses on, close-up objects become blurry. Right now as I type this, my glasses are somewhere other than on my face. (I think they’re in the bedroom.) I can see the computer screen just fine. If I were to get up and find my glasses to put them on, the letters that I’m typing would be almost as blurry as if they were farther away and I wasn’t using my glasses.
Therefore, I like dice that are easy to read. Nowadays, this rules out most crystal dice. Instead, I like opaque dice with high contrast between the die’s color and the color its numbers are inked with.
And now for something haunted.
Several years ago, Paaie Breeshey brought her troupe to the city. The hoi polloi welcomed Breeshey, for her entertainments were famous near and far. The city’s elite welcomed her as well. Breeshey brought more than famed entertainments. She brought prestige, and Breeshey was much sought after for private performances in the homes of the wealthy and influential.
One of those wealthy and influential elites was the young Count Domonkos Vili. Handsome, urbane, witty. These all described Vili. So too did cold and cruel. The older Breeshey became smitten with Vili, and the count, in turn, toyed with the actress’s affections. Breeshey’s devotion grew into idolatry as Vili’s cruelties became more elaborate. Gradually, among the elites, Breeshey’s reputation turned from celebrated artist to pitiable fool. After Vili made public certain letters from Breeshey as part of a satire he’d written on the topic of lecherous matrons, Breeshey could tolerate no more humiliation.
So, she announced that she and her troupe were giving one final performance before they left the city for greener pastures. The elite, including Vili, attended en masse. Unknown to all, Breeshey’s final performance would be her supreme act of vengeance. She contracted with dark powers, exchanging her soul for the power to bring terror and death onto the heads of those who mocked her.
And terror and death were brought, turning Breeshey’s final performance into an orgy of screams, blood, and madness.
Although the city’s citizens demanded the theatre burned and the ground on which stands salted, the Lord Mayor refused. The property was walled off, and the theatre stands today as a cautionary tale.
Of course, rumors that undead monsters and even demons haunt the theatre have spread since Breeshey’s final performance. In hushed tones, people also speak of the treasures left unclaimed in the theatre. Breeshey was a wealthy woman. Neither her body nor her riches were ever discovered, and perhaps both lay in some dark, cursed corner of the theatre even today.
