Good Friday procession participants are ready to pay up to €7,000 for an elaborate costume of a Roman soldier, or a biblical character, taking religious fervour to new heights.

And in the run-up to Easter, the man who creates them is busy, buried in his workshop, illuminated by the flicker of a television screen, playing the DVD of Alexander.

"That and other epic movies, or footage of pageants, set the mood," says Tonio Zammit, who is beating metal into breast plates, helmets, crowns, swords and shields for tomorrow's Good Friday processions.

The demand has increased considerably over the last decade and when Easter comes early in the year, Mr Zammit's passion turns into a headache. He starts working on the costumes after Christmas and is looking forward to next year when the feast is scheduled for April 22. The end of his "easy life" starts after carnival.

Mr Zammit, a security officer by day, uses all his leave at this time of the year and spends between 8 a.m. and 11 p.m. in his workshop, catching up on the requests for more high-end costumes and additional accessories.

He knows he is likely to be working into the morning of Good Friday, hammering out the last details, before he packs it all in and heads for the Luqa procession himself.

"That is the climax of all this - the full stop and the whole point of it all... That is my reward."

Mr Zammit started dabbling in the nameless skill about 20 years ago. Back then, it was just a hobby: he made a stage costume for himself. Today, it is a "passion".

And not only for him... Clients are willing to pay anything from €3,000, depending on their imagination, for the whole outfit, and some even return for a new one years later.

According to Mr Zammit, about 85 per cent of participants own their own costume, bringing him designs from the internet to be replicated - but never repeated for anyone else.

Then there are those who are so into it that they make a whole collection of costumes and lend them out.

Metals range from brass to stainless steel and even gold and silver plating, while the inside of the armour is padded to protect the expensive fabrics used for the costume. One mistake and he just throws the whole thing away.

It takes Mr Zammit about 30 hours on a piece of armour, he says as he shoves a torn shoe box of rudimentary tools across the table. It only contains worming metal wires of different lengths, and that is all he works with, twisting them into the intricate designs and indenting the plate on his lap.

As he explains the technique, Mr Zammit bangs out a shape into a woman's cuff, just following freehand a small drawing from the corner of his eye.

Unfortunately, often, only the negative aspect of the luxurious costumes is highlighted, Mr Zammit points out, quoting criticism.

"I never see the extreme in anything. If it can be reached, it is not extreme. What I see is that this is unique to Malta and cannot be found anywhere in the world, not even in Spain and Italy, where these traditions are strong, but the processions are limited.

"The local processions turn back to the Old Testament, bringing out new characters from the Bible," he says. Hence the need for so many different sets of armour.

"Yes, of course there is competition among the participants, but I look at the positive side of this too if it makes one develop things further.

"Nowhere do the Good Friday processions and pageants come close to what happens in Malta's 13 villages and we should capitalise on this tourist attraction," he insists.

Moreover, most of the participants, including the organisers, are youths, which Mr Zammit considers another positive aspect.

"It is good that youths lose themselves in this," he says of the pastime that is still very strong among them, showing they still have values.

"The negative side of things is always more visible, but the positive elements always win."

His nameless skill is not taught anywhere, but Mr Zammit is making sure to pass it on.

"There is a lot of interest; I can't complain. It won't die easily," he guarantees.