The ACTION PACK
Presents
A Gloriosus Production
of a Renaissance Picture
TEASER
OPEN ON a shadow play. Against a roiling blue background, the silhouette of a slender spear-wielding hero bravely fighting a massive serpentine shape is shown in a Letter-boxed format. The background flashes white.
(Voice Over) “A flash of lightning split the sky, and thunder filled the air as our hero bravely fought his way forward against the claws and fangs of the armored serpent. Thrusting and slashing he advanced as the mighty dragon reared up to smite the brave warrior, and breathed its deadly flame. When suddenly our hero, Joxer, the Mighty, drove his magic spear betwixt the dragon’s scales mortally wounding the beast –“
(Female Voice Over, with a note of exasperation) “JOXER!”
Scene freezes in mid-action. CUT TO interior of Cyrene’s Inn (filling the TV screen), lit by a hearth fire. Joxer looked up from the kids and back at the cropped-haired Gabrielle. Xena sat back, and looked amused while watching over her sleeping child, as her mother bustled about the kitchen.
“That is NOT how it happened, and you know it!” Gabrielle exclaimed.
“Oh yeah, Miss Bard?” Joxer asked archly. “As I haven’t been hearing you tell any tales lately, you shouldn’t complain about MY storytelling.”
“Uh-huh, and you’d better believe that’s all you’re telling them, nothing but a fairy-tale.” Gabrielle riposted.
“Hey!”
“And just as simple-minded, too. Magic spear?” The blond bard grumbled. “More like Spartan Army Surplus.”
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it?” protested Joxer.
“Yeah! When I was the one wielding it,” countered the Bard. “YOU were getting it tangled up in the branches.”
The children giggled at the bickering adults while a smiling Cyrene dished up the dinner for her guests.
“That’s not true! I was … was … Well, they were feints, to get the dragon to drop his guard.”
“How? Through laughter?” Gabrielle sighed gustily, as her meal was laid before her.
“Well, Gabrielle,” drawled the Warrior Princess. “Why don’t YOU tell us what happened? I’m curious now, as to where you two went after Amphipolis’ siege.”
Gabrielle glanced at her long-haired companion, and turned to the children. “So, do you kids want to hear how it REALLY happened?”
CUT TO a horde of grinning, enthusiastically nodding kids.
Gabrielle took a bite to eat, before continuing. “Okay. Let’s see now ….” she said, narrowing her eyes to focus on the tale.
End Teaser
CUT TO OPENING TITLES –
PAN IN On a Rocky shoreline to the skirl of bagpipes …
“In a time of Ancient Gods, Warlords, and Kings.”
Xena’s Main Title music swells as the narration continues:
“A land in turmoil cried out for a hero;”
“Her name was Xena.”
Jenata iazde samotna
Neinoto minalo srazi ia
Sreshtu voiskite ot tumen sviat
Vouva za dobra tia
Title Displayed: XENA Warrior Princess
“A Princess forged in the heat of Battle”
(The Warrior Princess rides alone
Her past drives her from shame.
Against the forces of a dark world
She fights for good, not for fame.)
Starring: Lucy Lawless
Renee O’Connor
Rogovi svonuve idavi
Napriate put no voina!
Tupani biat vuv ritum
Princhesata e pak tuka!
“The Power”
“The Passion”
“The Danger”
“Her courage will change the world.”
(Horns sound her coming, blare her name
“Make way the Warrior! Cheer!”
Drums beat a rhythm
Let villains beware
The Warrior Princess is here!)
ACT ONE
Subtitles sequentially appear against a Letter-boxed INTERIOR SHOT of a crowded bar, muffled conversations are heard in the background:
RHINEGOLD
By
Charles “Gloriosus” Gilliland
Guest starring:
Darien Tackel -- Cyrene
Ted Raimi -- Joxer
Jon Lovitz -- Regin
Thomas Ian Griffith -- Hagen
Tim Curry -- Fafnir
Gabrielle’s VO: “It began, as these things always seem to ….”
Through the muffled conversation, Gabrielle’s exclamation is clearly heard cutting through the din.
“All I wanted to know was where Joxer got to!” The blond bard cried.
CUT TO Gabrielle, still wearing her white and brown Duster, busily fending off the advances of an over-amorous drunkard who was trying to get her compact frame into his embrace. Gabrielle ducked under the swinging arm of the lout and tried to push him away from her. The drunkard, caught himself on the countertop, and turned back to the little blond.
“What d’ya need him for, when yah got me, sweetie?” the lout sneered, as he again tried to embrace her, only to get punched in his solar plexus, and then received a right-cross to his jaw. The lout spun about on his heel before toppling over.
“No thanks, I prefer someone who at least pretends to bathe!” The bard retorted when she suddenly heard an outraged cry.
“Hey! That was my brother!” The begrimed sibling started to go after the bard, jumping over his fallen brother and causing Gabrielle to quickly back up into a table.
“Uh-oh!” she cried, rolling over the table. The bard accidentally knocked people’s drinks and meals into their laps, while she tried to avoid the avenging brother.
The scene erupts into a full blown bar fight, as fists and dishes fly. Gabrielle lithely ducked and dodged the flying debris as she flees the pandemonium that engulfed the enraged brother, and quickly exits the bar.
CUT TO EXTERIOR of the bar as Gabrielle vaults onto the back of her faithful mount. CLOSE UP of Gabrielle.
“I’m going to kill Joxer when I find him,” Gabrielle swore under her breath. She gave a quick look back at the tavern. A crash is heard in the background accompanied by pained cries, before concluding, “If not before.” She swung her horse around, examining the ground for any signs of Joxer’s passage.
CUT TO the torch illuminated frost covered ground, PANNING to follow the direction of her circling. A set of muddy ruts left by a laden wagon stand out against the frost. CUT TO The bard pressing her lips tightly together as she made her decision, and urged her horse onward, following the wagon tracks into the darkness of the night.
CUT TO skeletal woods against a pale, overcast sky. PAN DOWN to reveal a stuck wagon drawn by two fjords, who are grazing on the grass sticking up through the frost, and a slender figure, in mis-matched tin-armor, trying to push the wagon from the rear.
“Can’t you get the horses to do any more?” Joxer cried in exasperation.
“Hey, you’re the one called ‘the Mighty,’” replied the swarthy driver, who paused to take a swig from his wineskin. “I thought that anyone with that appellation could certainly be counted on to move a wagon with one hand.”
“Regin!” Joxer peered out from behind the wagon. “I maybe Joxer, the Mighty, but even I will need a bit more help in getting this wagon to move.”
“Oh, very well,” Regin replied, and with the snap of the reins, he urged his dun-colored ponies on. “Forward, Toothgnasher. Onward, Toothgrinder. It seems Joxer, ‘the Mighty,’ needs your help.”
“Hey!” protested Joxer at the driver’s sarcasm. The two fjords flicked their ears and began to strain at their harnesses, whinnying and snorting at the strain while their hooves slipped in the mud. Suddenly the wagon lurched forward, causing the mighty warrior to fall sprawling into the recently vacated muck.
Regin called back to his fallen comrade. “Well, are you coming, or what?”
“I’ll be with you in a minute,” Joxer responded, spitting out mud and sitting upright, as the wagon slowly pulled away from him.
“Well, you’re going to have to do better than that if you’re to win the treasure from the dragon.”
“Let me worry about the dragon when we get there, okay,” said Joxer while he got back to his feet, and then ran to jump into the back of the wagon. “You did say it was a small one, right?”
“What? Oh yes, yes, just your average, nothing spectacular, dragon. Yeah, that’s it,” confirmed Regin, well pleased with his own cleverness. Joxer snorted, and looked back over the path they had come, when he heard the rhythmic thudding of horse-hooves.
“Are you expecting anyone else?” Joxer asked, as the heavy thuds got louder.
“Of course not, I wouldn’t DREAM of diminishing your glory when you do your great deeds.” Regin stated confidently. Then the swarthy man heard the hoof-beats, and he looked quickly over his shoulder, a panicked expression on his face. “Um …” Regin again snapped the reins. “Yah! yah! … Onward noble steeds!” The two ponies looked at each other and began to pick up their pace. “C’mon you nags! Move, move, move, move, MOVE!” Now the two fjords began galloping, their ears pricked forward as they picked up on their rider’s urgency.
“What’s the matter?” asked Joxer, tightly gripping the sides of the wagon so he wouldn’t tumble out.
“I didn’t think HE’d catch on this quickly!” exclaimed Regin, as he urged his ponies on.
“Who?”
“He’s going to kill me, I just know it.” Regin moaned.
“Who?” asked Joxer again, his exasperation beginning to grow. Behind them, the darkened figures of a horse and rider begin to manifest themselves between the skeletal trunks of the trees.
“Maybe I’ll lose him up ahead! Hang on!” cried Regin, swerving the wagon to head down a narrower path.
“WHO?” yelled Joxer, while behind them the figure materialized, her sea-green eyes flashing, and her brown and white suede duster flapping behind her as the Blood-bay drew closer to the wagon. “Uh-oh.”
“JOXER!” cried Gabrielle.
“WHOA!” cried Regin, reining his ponies to a halt.
“Ummm … Hi, Gabrielle,” began Joxer weakly, “Fancy meeting you in this neck of the woods.”
“Joxer! Do you realize how much trouble you put me through?”
CAMERA PANS along the wagon, from Gabrielle, reining in her mount, to Joxer in the back of the laden wagon, to Regin.
“Uh – h-h-hello, Hagen,” Regin said, swallowing a lump in his throat as he sat petrified looking straight ahead, ignoring the tableau that was developing behind him.
CAMERA continues to PAN to reveal a sword-blade leveled at Regin’s throat. CAMERA follows blade back revealing a well-muscled arm belonging to a powerfully built man with long blond hair, neatly trimmed beard and mustache, wearing a bearskin cloak, and sitting astride a large dappled-gray Friesian.
A tight grin crosses the handsome warrior’s features as he regards the swarthy driver under his lowered brows. “Hello, Regin, back to your old tricks again, I see.”
End Act One
ACT TWO
CLOSE UP of the sweating features of Regin, OFF CAMERA we hear Gabrielle chewing out Joxer.
“Um … tricks? Tricks?” Regin gulped as he thought quickly, and then sat up straight in his seat. “Why do you insult me, Oath-brother?” He declaimed.
“Because I have come to know you too well,” responded the blond giant, though his brown eyes reflected a glint of amusement.
“Well, for shame, sir. I merely gathered this mighty war-ree-orr, um.” Regin and Hagen regarded the quickly diminishing form of Joxer, who wilted under Gabrielle’s diatribe. “This, this … (oy) … FINE fellow, to aid me in avenging myself on the man who betrayed my father.”
“Ahhh!” sighed Hagen, as he finally raised his sword, resting its blade on his shoulder, “truly a most laudable pastime. I shall accompany you, to ensure your quest’s success,” he concluded, sheathing his weapon.
The swarthy driver’s eyes bugged out at this announcement. “Ah, well, you really needn’t do this.”
“Oh, I insist,” interrupted the black-clad warrior, “out of devotion to my king, if not for my high regard of you.”
CUT TO Joxer and Gabrielle.
“But, Gabrielle, do you realize how hard it is for a guy to establish a rep while hanging out with the pair of you.”
“Joxer, think! Every time you go off, we end up having to pull your hide out of trouble.”
“HEY!” Joxer protested heatedly, “If it weren’t me, you two would STILL be dead! And I was doing just fine until you can riding along, isn’t that right Regin?”
“Care to introduce me to our companions, Oath-brother?” Both Joxer and Gabrielle stopped arguing to regard this tall new-comer, who guided his dappled-gray alongside the wagon.
“Um, Hagen, this fellow is Joxer, the Mighty,” Joxer puffed up to his name, only to deflate under Hagen’s steady regard, “And his lovely lady friend there is … ah?”
“Gabrielle,” supplied the Bard as she held out her hand in greeting.
The blond giant gently took the hand and kissed the knuckles, “Charmed,” he crooned, “I’m Hagen, son of Aldrik, Thane and Champion to King Herman; and allow me to present Regin, son of Otter, my Oath-brother, and King Herman’s foster-son.” Gabrielle flushed at the courtesy, and nodded a greeting towards the driver. “Will you be joining us on this noble quest of vengeance.”
“Um, well, I don’t know,” began Gabrielle, when Joxer interrupted.
“Vengeance? I thought we were going after a dragon?”
“Ah … it’s a long story,” admitted Regin reluctantly after shooting his oath-brother a poisonous look. “I’ll tell it on our way.”
Hagen sat back in his saddle and looked at the Bard, his brows raised in inquiry.
Gabrielle gave a tight grin and shrugged. “Oh, all right,” she agreed, “I’m always up for a new story.”
Joxer settled deeper into the wagon, watching sullenly the silent interplay between Hagen and Gabrielle while the cart lurched forward, with the riders riding close beside. “He only raises his eyebrows, and she’s convinced to come along,” grumbled Joxer. “What’s he got, that I don’t got?”
CUT TO establishing shot of the party making its way through the skeletal forest. FADE TO full screen, black and white footage filmed reminiscent of the silent pictures, complete with pancake make-up and heavily mascara’d eyes, and exaggerated gestures from the actors, as Regin begins his narrative.
“Well, I was just a stripling, when my father, Otter, and his noble bride, Sigrun, were the pre-eminent nobles in the world.”
Shot of Otter, sitting on his throne, with his wife and son beside him, handing out gifts of gold to his warriors as they feast about a table. In the shadows stands his brother.
“But with his wealth came greed and discord, and his brother, Fafnir, plotted to have my father overthrown, and his castle pillaged.”
CAMERA PANS to follow Fafnir, who approaches a short-haired, clean-shaven Hagen, and the two begin talking animatedly with many furtive glances at those around them.
“Thus, late one night, Fafnir drugged the guards and left the palace doors unlocked so the bandits could get in. They slaughtered nigh all who had resided with us, and set the Palace on fire. My mother gathered me up and spirited us out of the building when they were seeking my uncle, for their share of the treasure.”
CUT TO great oaken doors flung open, and stereo-typically dressed Vikings come streaming in.
CUT TO King Otter being cut down in his bed-clothes by a giant of a man. Otter is declaiming all the while as his life ebbs from him. CUT TO Title Card reading “OUCH!”
CUT TO Shot of Mother clutching a fully clothed Regin in Lederhosen and a Viking-style beanie to her bosom as shadows of the mayhem play against the walls behind her as they watch wide-eyed. She then grimly sets her mouth, and the two of them scamper out of the Palace.
“The bandits ransacked the burning structure venting their rage against my uncle who had spirited the treasure out a secret passage before they had arrived.”
CUT TO Shot of Hagen whispering in a bandit’s ear, and the bandit raising his arms in fury, and begins to trash the Great Hall.
“However, when they had finally managed to track down my uncle, and the treasures, he drank down a potion, and recited an incantation which transformed him into a dragon so he could better guard the great treasure of my father. And to this day, he lies nestled on his horde, devouring any who’d challenge him.”
CUT TO Horde of Vikings who come upon Fafnir, who stands in front of a great pile of treasure, and halts them with a word. He drinks the potion, recites the incantations with his hand raised heavenward, and then convulses.
CUT TO terrified visages of the Vikings, as a shadow darkens their features, and Hagen trying to rally them. At last, even the clean-shaven Hagen retreats.
CUT TO Letterboxed color shot of the party continuing on their journey, as a darkly colored thrush sits on a branch, as if listening to them.
“My mother and I made our way to the court of King Herman, who would soon marry her, and managed to gain his protection. That night, I swore that when I became a mighty warrior I’d avenge my father and slay his traitorous brother.”
SHOT OF Thrush suddenly taking to the air, punctuating Regin’s statement. The thrush flew the gray skies before landing on a skeletal branch of a bush in front of a cave, and began singing. A deep sigh of wind is heard eminating from the cave, as a large red eye looks out to regard the bird.
"So my nephew has gotten help to steal my gold," the oily voice rumbled with grim amusement, "well then, I should make ready for their visit."
End of Act 2
To be continued......