The Story of Lancquasso the Playwright

"The world's a stage, my dear, and each of us is an actor! If only I could have written the play. Maybe then it would not be so utterly boring." - Lancquasso the Playwright

Lancquasso the Playwright is a Chaos Lord, and the leader of the Ensemble Ensemble.

Youth

Long ago, in the world-that-was, Lancquasso was born as the youngest son of a noble family with a name even he himself no longer remembers. His family being patrons of fine culture, Lancquasso familiarized himself with theater and opera at a young age. He fell in love with the mystique of masked actors and the thrill of the interplay of music, writing, and acting. Young Lancquasso had found the world he belonged in.

He took to writing his own plays, initially just for his own amusement, but soon he began to arrange private performances for his friends. Their furious applauses at the end of each performance fueled Lancquasso’s enthusiasm, and – encouraged by both his friends and family – he offered his plays to small theater groups for public performances.

Lancquasso’s undeniable genius was soon recognized, and as his fame began to grow, so did his ego. Lancquasso found himself invited to the most fashionable events, being served exquisite wine and foods, and surrounded by admiring masses who hung on to his every word. The young playwright was whisked away to a world of hedonism and idleness. His each play was proclaimed a success before their ever more lavish premiers even took place, and Lancquasso began to believe he could do no wrong.

The Woman

But as is usual, everything changed with a woman. At one of the endless parties Lancquasso threw at his pompously decorated manor, he met the most enchanting young lady he had ever seen. She was more beautiful than all the flowers in his garden and her voice was sweeter than finest honey-drenched sweets. Lancquasso fell passionately in love at the first sight of the woman and, after a night of courting, swore to prove his feelings for her the only way he knew how: he’d write the greatest play ever seen in her honor.

Lancquasso set to work, and for a month he slaved night and day at his desk until he had produced what he considered a play worthy of the gods. He chose to play the main role himself, in order to ensure flawless performance and to further impress his fair lady. The night of the performance came. Lancquasso poured his entire soul and being into his role. Just before the first intermission, he stole a glance at his audience. Not a single dry eye was to be found, all the people gathered in the theater had been moved to tears by the performance. With a self-satisfied smile, Lancquasso finally turned to the love of his life, and felt his blood turn to ice. Behind her fan, the woman was covering a yawn.

Lancquasso Falls

Screaming in agony and frustration, Lancquasso stormed out of the theater and locked himself in his manor. For months he isolated himself from the outside world to wallow in his despair. Even his most trusted servants were forbidden from seeing him, and soon rumors began to make rounds about how the famous playwright had completely lost his mind. Some of his servants said they had seen Lancquasso talking to his reflection in mirrors. He only left his private quarters at night to wander around his garden as if desperately looking for something.

When he finally emerged from his self-imposed exile, he seemed a changed man. Outwardly he was still the same, with his long flowing hair and immaculately sculpted features, but there was a new burn inside him. He was convinced that the only way to win over the woman he loved was to write a new play, one that would be greater than anything ever written before. No, the next play Lancquasso would write, he boasted, would be comparable to the eternal dance of the cosmos itself.

But how could a mortal man write such a play? To find the inspiration he believed he needed, Lancquasso became convinced he would have travel far away, into the north of the world-that-was called the Chaos Wastes. Lancquasso revealed his plans to the object of his love in a letter, vowing he’d return only after he had found the inspiration he required.

And so Lancquasso set off with his troupe. For weeks they traveled, staging small performances of Lancquasso’s old plays along the way. They were as well received as always, but some noticed that new, more sinister tones had been worked into them.

The Palace Of The Genesian

As Lancquasso’s troupe reached the Chaos Wastes, they met an old woman, who said she had been sent to lead them. Lancquasso took this as a sign of divine intervention, and agreed to follow. After several days of travel, they arrived to a cave and the old woman beckoned them to enter. Inside, Lancquasso, to his surprise, found a green valley, bathing in sunlight, and in its center stood a massive, magnificent palace.

In the palace a being, calling itself the Genesian, received them. It told Lancquasso that it had noticed his skill long ago, and would like to commission him to write him a play that could make it laugh and cry, love and hate, and feel happiness and sadness, all at once. Lancquasso thought the deed impossible, but after the daemon promised to aid him in his pursuit of the perfect play should he succeed, Lancquasso took to writing. Lancquasso found the new, strange, and wonderful things he saw at the palace inspiring, and just after two days of restless work the play was ready. Lancquasso could not bear to watch the performance, but after the Genesian burst into his quarters with tears of joy running down its face, Lancquasso knew he had succeeded. Squealing with delight, the Genesian offered Lancquasso an eternity in his Silver Theater to perfect his art if his “sublime ensemble” would in return continue to entertain the daemon with such exquisite plays.

The Grand Performance

To the Genesian’s dismay, Lancquasso turned down the offer, believing he had already written the perfect play. He had, after all, charmed an immortal being. Lancquasso returned to civilization, and set up a new performance of the play he had written for the daemon. In the front row, he reserved two seats for himself and the woman of his dreams.

As the play started, screams of horror soon began to erupt from the audience. Lancquasso’s eyes widened as he realized the true terror of what he had created. The play was a menagerie of debauchery. Blood was spilt in live performance and the basest human desires were given form in flesh.

Shocked, Lancquasso turned to his lady, fully expecting her to be dismayed, but instead found her enthralled by the play. With a smile on her face, she turned to Lancquasso and – planting a kiss on his lips – told him it was the most wonderful thing she had ever seen.

Truly, Lancquasso had succeeded in crafting the perfect play.

Beyond The End Times

Not much is known of Lancquasso after the performance. It’s said that the play was so depraved that he had to flee back to the north with his entire ensemble. There, they returned to the Genesian who was delighted its favored playwright had come back. In exchange for regular plays, the playwright was given free rule over the Genesian’s Silver Theater. However, the Genesian told he would need to shed his mortal name, and instead work solely by the name of ‘Lancquasso’. Residing in that green valley, he whittled away the millennia, granted practical immortality by the daemon.

However, nothing good lasts forever. The Genesian has told Lancquasso that the god Slaanesh, the source of all the daemon’s power and Lancquasso’s inspiration, has gone missing. Terrified of losing his ability to write plays, Lancquasso has taken his ensemble outside the valley, setting foot in the mortal world for first time in thousands of years, to look for Slaanesh. But the world outside is not the one he remembers…

Lancquasso looked around himself. He shivered, and pulled his thin silken cloak tighter.
"It's cold out here Tania. And dirty. I do not like this place. Tania, I want to go back."
Tania curled her serpentine body around Lancquasso and looked him straight in the eye.
"Go back where, my lord? You wasted that chance long ago."