As they passed back through the chambers, Aria slit the throats of those who were merely unconscious, whispering, "The tragedy is not death, that is just the beginning; the tragedy is the goddess into whose bosom you've chosen to place your afterlife..." She also double checked that the magic doors were still there, and the central one still open with the theater visible through it, to confirm they had an escape once the place was on fire. (If this was the Plane of Shadow, then a Teleport spell wouldn't work to take them to other Prime cities.)<br/><br/>Starting from the back room, she found it quite cathartic to toss flasks and watch that storage room burn (the scents of packed spices quickly filling the hot air), and then the other rooms in succession as she went down 'her side' of the ring-shaped temple. In this black and white world, the light of the fires was weird: although it gave light which she could see by, all still seemed black-and-white in this shadow world, which she typically associated with darkvision. Moreover, the light of the fires seemed weaker than it ought, illuminating only half as far. Strange...a place she'd be happy to leave, and happy to burn.<br/><br/>Aria wiped a bit of sweat on her brow as she reached the foyer, tossing one of her last flasks into the library behind here where they'd fought the nightwalker, then, in sync with Kass, one in the foyer. "Whew!" she whistled and ran back through the magic door.<br/><br/>She gasped - color! It was such a relief to see real color again, and to feel the warmer air of what she could only think of as 'the real world' after being in that dry dead shadow plane.<br/><br/>The crew and cast backstage had been seemingly too busy with their show to go about caring about the door. Through the curtain, the pit orchestra's music came in muffled but booming tones - something grand, melodramatic, and tragic, by the sound of it, with a single deep voice booming in baritone about death and loss.