The lighting designer needed an all around assistant and gopher so he arranged with Masterson for her to work here evenings. You can probably find her...somewhere backstage now if you wanted to talk to her."I decided to check out what was going on down on the stage and perhaps look for Stephanie. I had only a short while before the performance. As I was coming back down the stairs from the second floor rehearsal room I ran into the choreographer of today's performance. He seemed to know who I was. His body was filthy, covered with dirt, scratches and streaks of dried sweat. His lopsided face, wrapped with blood-stained strips of leather, swelled hideously. The Light-Eye scarcely noticed his condition. Overcome by rage, he acted on instinct, and before anyone knew what was happening, his hand wrapped around the shaman’s throat. People shouted, pulling at his arm, his body, begging him, demanding him to stop, but he neither heard nor saw them. The Spiritwalker rasped, pleading for his life. More

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