If you like you can look at the (sketchy, incomplete) GM notes as well.

The Theatre District

The major road through the district, which borders the Noble District, the Imperial Gardens, and the Government Ruins, is Fitzkarald Thoroughfare, named after the grand Fitzkarald Opera House at the very centre of the district. This imposing structure was built by an entrepreneur from Irgar, to replace the old Imperial Arena which was destroyed during the Siege of Horizon - every musician, actor, opera singer and director dreams of being involved in a performance at the Opera House. Facing the Fitzkarald is the old Imperial Museum. Whilst the Museum itself was still standing by the end of the Last War, it was looted by both citizens of Horizon and enterprising soldiers towards the end of the Siege, and there are still many bare spaces where priceless exhibits used to be displayed. It goes without saying, of course, that the major galleries and museums are great big targets for the city's thieves; in system terms, they are almost all Well-Secured, and especially valuable exhibits might have Stronghold-quality or even Airtight security.

Branching off of Fitzkarald Thoroughfare at the Opera House is a series of broad streets, and branching off them is a series of smaller streets and dark alleyways. Grand, prestigious venues and galleries occupy the Thoroughfare, less pre-eminant (but still respectable) theatres crowd the broader streets, whilst the underground arts scene thrives in the alleyways - literally, since most of these dingy threatres and galleries operate out of people's basements, and seat only a few dozen people at a time.

After the Last War, the fashion in the mainstream theatre was for pomp and splendour. The upper classes went to the theatre to vicariously relive the glory days of the past, and when the lower classes could scrape together enough money for theatre tickets they wanted to see a grand spectacle. People just didn't want realism, depth, or discussion of important social issues, they wanted overblown acting, outrageously unsubtle orchestral music bashing them over the head, lots of action and a happy ending. This all changed with Crown of Steel, a masterpiece of the stage which starred Jurican actor (and alleged Cartel operative) Joakhim al-Bahrad and Lasinian diva (and soon-to-be revolutionary) Clia Rosto, which heralded the so-called New Theatre movement. Critics believe that the New Theatre was born out of a rivalry between the two stars, a rivalry which provoked them to actually act; as a result, the climactic scene of the play in which Joakhim, portraying the Emperor, confronted Clia (in the role of Lady Christina Ferrars) as the Empire crumbles around them was the most powerful and emotive interaction seen on the Horizon stage for decades. Suddenly, intelligence and depth were the in thing, and gaudy spectacles - while they still had their place, and are still popular amongst children - became sidelined. The ideals of the New Theatre movement were crystallised in Joakhim al-Bahrad's I, Tucous, a masterpiece produced, directed, written by and starring Joakhim which ran for an unprecedented five years straight at the Fitzkarald.

In many ways the underground theatres have consistently been the antithesis of the mainstream theatre. Where the Fitzkarald and its imitators house thousands of people in order to present them with lavish and expensive productions, the underground theatres provide a more intimate atmosphere, in which struggling artists put on productions with a shoestring budget. In the postwar years, while the mainstream theatres churned out frivolous nonsense, the underground theatres put on highly political, often highly realistic, frequently bitingly cynical and depressing plays about the Issues. Depsite their highly politically charged nature, these plays didn't reach very many people. Thanks to the cramped conditions, the small size of the underground theatres, the amateurish acting, and the tendency of writers and directors to have artistic ambitions far, far beyond their reach, very few people visited the underground theatres on a regular basis, and the city authorities were reluctant to regulate them unless evidence emerged that they were being used for Horizion People's Liberation Front recruitment.

Now, however, the New Theatre movement has deigned to borrow certain techniques of the underground theatre in order to put on more meaningful and realistic plays, and the underground theatre has responded by diversifying. While there are still realistic productions in the underground theatre, they tend to occupy a very different niche from New Theatre productions; the New Theatre might put on a production with a cast of hundreds about some hero of the Second Age's epic quest, whilst the underground theatre would produce a production with a cast of four about the hopelessness and drudgery of the Slum-dwellers. There is, in fact, a whole subgenre of underground productions devoted to parodying or satirising popular New Theatre plays - for example, Jocular and Wrongway are Dead tells the story of two minor characters from I, Tucous, and in doing so neatly turns al-Bahrad's parable about the importance of loyalty into a polemic about the necessity of rebellion.

However, for every underground production that goes to extremes of realism in order to outdo the New Theatre at its own game, there's another dozen that pursue some other extreme. Absurdist comedies, scatological puppet shows, abstract monologues and visceral shocks all have their place in the underground theatre - but it is always unfailingly highbrow stuff. Those who want cheap, sleazy entertainment can go down to the Docks for the burlesque shows, cabarets, and prizefights that Shoreleave House specialise in; while it's not unknown for a bit of blood and nudity to show up in the underground theatre, it's almost always more disturbing than titillating.

The underground theatre is all about extremism; it's unsurprising that things get a little dangerous out at the periphery. Going to see a new production is always a risk, especially when the actors involved aren't well-known in the underground scene: you never know whether the actors will start cutting themselves with pieces of glass whilst screaming about the impossibility of perfection in a corrupt world, or whether there'll be HPLF recruiters in the audience guaging people's responses to a subversive play in order to see who might be convinced to join the cause, or whether the Watchdogs will raid the performance due to reports of subversion or blasphemy. And then there's the rumours about the really underground stuff - the snuff shows that the toffs go to in order to watch the death of some unfortunate plucked off the street, or the occult plays put on by cultists in order to spread the word of their malign gods - but those rumours can't really be true, can they?