Session 16
From Tatters of the King
Session Report - Played Monday 2nd October, 2006
The Upper House - February 1930
The King in Yellow appears standing beside the gate. He was not seen to pass through it.
The King does not speak, but all hear his words in their minds:
GREETINGS PILGRIMS I AM THE KING IN YELLOW WHICH OF YOU HAS COME TO GUIDE ME?
THE WHITE ACOLYTE WILL BE MY HONOURED SERVANT MY HIGH PRIEST TO CARRY MY GOSPEL TO THE WORLD
Nathaniel Browne
Ahead of the others, Nathaniel stands, awestruck by the power and majesty of the being before him. This is his muse, the very personification of the driving force behind the last year and a half of his life. There seems nothing more important to him than to be the servant of this being, this god, this king. But he remembers. He remembers the deaths of Bacon, Edwards, and Quarrie. He remembers the grave of Frederick Bartlett, his friend. He remember the horrors which have followed him and his friends across London, across England, across oceans and high mountains. He remembers his dream, the graveyard of the world. At last, finally and overwhelmingly, he remembers Francesca. His love is a greater thing than his art. His head moves slowly to the left, then to the right, in slow but unmistakable denial. He passes the test. He will not serve. He will not be the White Acolyte.
Andrew Saunders
George Withers
Such is the power of the King in Yellow's presence that for a brief moment even Withers remains transfixed by his majesty and beauty. Of all his friends and companions Withers has always remained the most unaffected and unimpressed by the power of the dream they have been pursuing. Far, far removed from the positive revelry in sensation that Nathaniel Browne has abandoned himself to and distant even from the professional curiosity, about those people affected, felt by his close friend Doctor Frederick Bartlett. Frederick; the thought of his friend snaps Withers out of his brief reverie - his dear friend was butchered by one of the servants or heralds or some damn thing serving the creature that stands before him now. How could he have allowed himself, even for a second, to waver in his purpose!. That THING is a threat to every thing he holds dear and there is no damn way that George Withers is going to be the White Acolyte. He'd burn in hell first!
