The Carnival
Amrynn
What a strange first page of a new journal but I figure with the odd things I’ll likely encounter, it would be good to organize my thoughts. Writing left-handed is a constant reminder of my loss.
We met at Madrick Raslan’s cabin – a retired adventurer and warlock. He’s lost his patron, Zybilna, supposed ruler of Prismeer. He hired us, a group all missing something due to the Witchlight Carnival, to investigate the Carnival for clues.
My loss? A hand. All those years ago, tricked by some cruel turn of phrase for sneaking into that blasted Carnival without a ticket.
The carnival itself is a sensory overload, a crossing to the Fae, and apparently, a place where things are stolen. Nicholas Midnight, the ticket attendant, was… odd. He gave us pre-paid tickets but also offered a weird bargain for more.
We met a button-collecting goblin, and a talking displacer beast acting like a housecat. Thankfully it spoke Elvish. It mourned its lost cub, and rewarded us with Feywild trinkets for helping find a boy who wandered off.
Carnival games: I won magical face paint at ring toss. P.B. wasn’t so lucky. Fable and Barnabus won wine and pixie dust guessing the number of feathers on a bird.
Dragonfly rides next, ran by a talking tree named Northwind. Chaos struck as we went to ride. A dwarf fell from a dragonfly, straps undone. Melina saw a feathered figure flee. My mage hand saved the dragonfly’s reins, P.B. caught the dwarf. Melina tackled the culprit: a kenku warlock of Zybilna named Kettlestream. She spoke of overhearing the carnival owners and a pact they made in exchange for taking from the carnival attendees.
Melina, Fable, and Barnabus rode the dragonflies, getting a bird’s eye view. Northwind rewarded us for helping: I received a sudden, overwhelming sense of amusement but Melina and Barnabus got a gold piece each. Odd. The tree’s squirrel gave us five dandelions each, instruction us to wish. My wish? A secret.
The carnival is full of questions. Answers, I fear, are in the Faewild. My life is no longer quiet scholarship. It’s a strange, dangerous story now. I will find the truth, and maybe, what I lost.