[Wildstar] Rough character concepts

[Rumze]

Curtain rise.

Stage : Shack . Tables with lots of alchemical apparatus. Some are bubbling, various colours.

Scene : A female mordesh is cackling while she pours liquids into a beaker on the left. Tall and skinny, dressed in a trench coat. Green hair , tied back. Age - undetermined.

Female Mordesh : AT LAST! I have perfected my serum ! Now those fools will know the cost of upsetting me ! < Cackle loudly >

Stage right : A male Granok enters. Warrior sword strapped to his back. Tracking mud all over the entrance.

Male Granok: Always great to hear you laugh Esme!

Esme: Fool!

She flings her hands up in the air, then lunges for and grabs the beaker. Some liquid sloshes out.

Esme: Im not laughing, Im cackling ! Cackling with undisguised glee at the future pain I will inflict on my detractors!

Fool sighs.

Fool: Well whatever floats your boat Esme. Are you ready to eat yet?

Esme frowns and sets down the beaker, before heading for Fool. She grabs him by his coat and pulls his face down to hers.

Esme: Arent you going to ask what nefariously diabolical scheme I have concocted! What delicious deviousness I shall visit on those harlots who scorned my choice in hair colour!

Esme's voice has been steadily rising as she spoke.

Fool sighs and gently takes Esme's hands off his coat . He straightens and as he is fixing his armor , he asks her a question.

Fool : What did the knitting circle do to you now Esme?

Esme turns dramatically and starts pacing up and down the stage, gesticulating wildly as she delivers her diatribe. Spittle may be seen flying out.

Esme: Those harlots! They had the gall. The NERVE! They said my choice in hair colour was outdated and so last decade! They wouldn't even listen to my well thought out arguments on red never going out of fashion. Just rolled their eyes. Thinking I wouldn't see !

Esme stops and dramatically lifts the beaker, holding it up while gazing into it like a lost lover.

Esme: I have concocted the perfect revenge. With this alchemical creation, I will punish those sluts who dare to mock me.

Fool rubs a hand across his face, a weary expression crossing his features.

Fool: Esme, you know we don't go around poisoning folks these days. We're supposed to be friendly to our neighbours and all that crap. No more killing.

Esme whirls dramatically to face Fool. Liquid sloshes from the beaker and her coat furls open.

Esme: Killing ! Who said anything about killing ?! No this is far worse.

Esme wraps her hands around the beaker protectively, only now noticing the liquid that has sloshed out and frowning.

Esme: Bah ! This is far worse. Those fools will live to regret their jibes.

Esme raises the beaker up once again, twisting it to catch the light and illuminating the pale green liquid. She stares at it entranced.

Esme: With this poison, I shall inflict the ultimate curse on those vile women of negotiable affection and unintentional infection! I shall turn them < dramatic pause > BALD!

Curtain closes as Esme cackles loudly , and Fool is seen shrugging and and showing grudging acceptance of the plan.