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CriticalRoleTranscripts

Dataset card Data Studio Files
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ASHLEY: That’s an extra charge. We do do that,
though.
MARISHA: How much?
ASHLEY: Well, it’s an extra five gold pieces.
MARISHA: Five gold?
ASHLEY: These arms are worth a lot.
TALIESIN: It’s a very swaddling hug. You’ve never
experienced anything like it.
ASHLEY: It’s the best way to see the show, if
that’s how you want it.
MARISHA: I’ll give you five silver just to have
your shrug to sit on so my butt’s not on the floor.
ASHLEY: I don’t take off my shrug.
MARISHA: Oh, sorry.
ASHLEY: How about you just keep your money and
I’ll put you in a chair and I’ll just watch over
your weapons.
MARISHA: Okay.
MATT: So she places you on the ground, as there
are no chairs.
ASHLEY: On the ground, I mean, because there’s no
chairs.
LAURA: Oh, there’s no chairs? Aw. I was picturing
benches. That’s okay.
TRAVIS: There’s no benches? Oh, fuck.
MATT: Where are they going to transport benches
from place to place?
ASHLEY: That’s a good point.
TRAVIS: Carnival? I don’t know.
(laughter)
MATT: Well, sorry, you have Fletching and Moondrop
to deal with.
TALIESIN: Bring a cushion from home like a regular
person.
MATT: So, as the music has died down and everyone
begins to crowd in and whisper to themselves,
eventually it begins to quiet a bit, everyone
having their seats. The familiar sound of the
fiddle begins to play, and everyone quickly gets
quiet, down to a hush. The music seems sourceless
in the interior of the tent. Everyone begins to
look around to see where it may come from. You
hear points of hushed “look"s, pointing off in
different areas, and at the top of the tent, you
see, seeming to stretch and fall, like a slow drop
of water, the man in red you saw earlier descends
from the top of the tent, but now dressed
head-to-toe in a matching deep blue outfit and
full makeup, to where he appears out of the canopy
of the tent. He hangs from a rope by one foot,
it’s wrapped around and clutched as his foot
catches the edge. Playing his violin
ever-so-slowly as he carefully descends, and then
at the last moment releases the rope and lands on
his feet, continuing the music he’s playing. He
slowly spins as the longer-haired elf leader of
the earlier parade that you saw, the one that had
marked back briefly to your two new friends over
here, enters the tent from the distant flaps, the
performers’ entrance, his head now sporting that
same tall hat, flopping backwards at the apex. He
extends his arms, removing the hat, and takes a
deep bow as the crowd begins to clap.