<div class="floatright">(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcSvCmjwtqp1zLousJDFK_oKiGOThjWoDZLO5nB8YLOq6psywVxc5Q)</div><br/>When Henry re-enters the dressing room from wherever he went after the performance, he is carrying a softly clinking leather satchel. Ignoring both punch, tea and fellow group members, he half-tosses the bag onto an empty table and pulls an assortment of vials and containers out. Pours from a half-dozen different ingredients into one empty glass result in a truly evil-smelling concoction that seems to emit a faint haze of smoke. Whatever the creation might be, he throws the entire thing down his throat in a single throaty gulp before beginning to repeat the mixing process. All the while, he continues to mutter and growl under his breath in two different tones, half-audible beneath the clink and clatters.<br/><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"What is the matter with you? Do you not realize what's at stake?"</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"Stop acting like this is my fault, you brought this on us."</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"You made us look like an idiot. All you had to do was say your lines!"</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"I didn't have to do anything. You're the one who broke the Agreement."</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"I was perfectly within the letter of the Agreement, you oaf."</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"Dark take the letter when you spit on the spirit. You forced my hand."</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"To throw a tantrum in front of the collected nobility of the city?"</span><br/><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 8pt;">"To remind you that crossing me has consequences."</span>