I spend the early part of the day backstage, waiting for my entrance in act 2. After a bit of pacing and muttering my lines to myself, it is time to get on stage and set about pretending to torture Ignatio/Lazarod.
I wheel out a cart full of fake torture implements and proceed to use them on Lazarod for a few minutes. After lashing open a blood packet on Ignatio's back and giving it a good splatter around the place, I give him a few good prods with a cold but magically glowing iron rod. Some of the prods may be slightly harder than necessary, but I would call it method acting.
"If Asmodeus wishes it so then my soul stands with his. If my hand has failed you, then I shall burn for it. I shall face the remaining five trials at Larazod’s side!"
I then clap Ignatio/Lazarod firmly on the back as the act comes to a close.
"Ah, I do so enjoy the next act. Its when the fighting finally begins!"
My ecstatic expression suddenly turning I grope at my neck, tearing a prop fluke from my flesh and letting it drop from my fingers onto the dust below.
I swing my eyes to Lazarod, my expression pointed disappointment. Between you, my hideous half-breed young master and a dream of three succubi's frolics on my flesh- I remark sourly, my tone tinged with a barely noticeable air of fading yearning, - a hard choice, Lazarod, but somehow your sweet countenance won out. I punctuate this last sentiment by bringing my foot down on the fluke, crushing the life from it, my dour expression allowing the smallest hint of victory to cross it before settling once more.
As I finish my performance I notice I have failed to capture their attention as my comerades had done, individuals in the gathered crowd shuffling and talking amongst themselves, clearly bored and unimpressed.
The crowd moves and changes as the sun rises and the actors perform in earnest, by the time the sun is sinking back towards the horizon they are covered in dust and sweat a long days work completed, their throats raw and dry. But they gathered more and more attention as time passed, even nobles stopped to watch them for a time, and word of the murder play to be performed is the topic of many conversation as the word spreads.
When they return to the playhouse Robahl gives them a terse congratulations, and tell them not to slack or be late for final rehearsal tomorrow. The open dress rehearsal fast approaches and the master of the Limehouse is tense, his employees picking up on their master's frayed nerves and equally on edge.
Over the time spent with them you learn that most of the crew are Varisian and have little love for the diabolical monarchy, more interesting Robahl himself while he proclaims faith in Asmodeus regularly and loudly has no real conviction, and in fact is scornful of the devil-church.
The week passes quickly and before the Children are ready, the day of the dress rehearsal is upon them. Tonight they perform in full regalia in the Limehouse, the greatest danger the heckling of the patrons, however tomorrow they perform an unsurvived murder play on the stage of the Nighthouse in front of the mayor and the city's nobility.
I spend my time double and triple checking my stage torture implements. So far they are the only real metal I am allowed on stage, and so have become my favorite props.
I attempt a bit of banter with Wat and Serjia, but my mind isn't really focused on it. One more day of play-fighting and then finally a challenge worthy of Krazga Ironsoul...