“You ever played in a theater this big?” you ask. “I haven’t, but I’ve heard stories about it. It’s tough to keep a stage that size lit while keeping the audience in the dark. Especially when you want to focus on different things at different times.”
“We mostly do outdoor performances and small theaters,” Bert replies. “So how do they pull it off?”
“Projection. There’s a couple of main lights for the audience, which they put out when the show starts. But for the stage itself, they keep the lights in a small room. Then they use mirrors and stuff to direct the light to where it needs to go. And that room – they call it the lighting nexus – is where they’d keep most of the lamp oil.” You put one of your hands flat. “Say this is the stage.” You put your other hand a little bit above it. “Then the nexus would be about here. On the second floor, facing it.”
“Will they let us go poking around there, though?” Bert asks.
“That’s not the question you should be asking,” you say with a smirk. “The question is how much are they going to care if we go poking around in there when they find out there’s a greatrat on the loose.”
You lead Bert to the stairs, and soon enough you find the nexus. There’s only one guard standing in front, and they don’t look like they want to be there. They also look rather big, though, so overpowering them would be difficult without making a lot of noise.
“I think they’ll be pretty suspicious if we just say there’s a greatrat,” Bert whispers.
“Don’t need to pull that trick yet, but I do have a plan for when it’s time,” you reply. “Right now, we’re just going to try to get information.”
You walk up to the guard.
“What do you want?” they ask, sounding pretty annoyed.
Is the fire out? Need to know what grade of lamp oil is needed here, wouldn’t want to combine incompatible types.