Jan 11, 2021 9:36 pm
It’s the dead of night, and all Hell has broken loose in your quiet village. You jump up from a peaceful slumber as cries for help ring out in all corners of the hamlet. What could have happened to spoil the end of a perfect day? Hours before you had experienced a thrilling afternoon with family and friends at a traveling carnival set up in the valley below the village green. Everyone had enjoyed a rare but well-deserved day of games and excitement: a far cry from the usual routine of back-breaking farm labor.
The day had been magical in every way! Every child won a prize and every adult walked away with memories that would warm them through many cold winter nights. But now, to your horror, you learn that every child in the village has vanished! What witchery could fashion such a mass exodus? Your only clues are tiny footprints in the soft ground and trails of discarded wax-paper treat-wrappers, all leading back towards the village green… and the traveling carnival.
With pitchfork in hand (and your lucky hen tucked under your arm) you join a band of the bravest folk in the hamlet to make your way back to the carnival in search of answers; and, if the Gods will it, to win the safe return of the missing children!
You find yourself looking down into the moonlit valley that hosts the carnival. Thick fog clouds the entire area, shrouding the carnival in a hazy veil. The dim glow of garishly colored lights breaks through the mists here and there, shaping a vast oval. It’s almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you: you don’t remember the carnival being nearly so large by light of day! Making your way down to the entrance, you discover that what you had mistaken for fog is something else entirely: the floating mists are sickly pink, coursing about unnaturally in an almost sentient fashion, like a curious serpent! They pour over the wood and canvas walls, shrouding much of the entranceway in a pink haze. Your exposed flesh tingles as the cool mists close in to coil around you. The air smells faintly of sweets.
Two jesters carved into tall standing poles mark either side of the entrance. By day they looked innocent and comical, but under the light of the moon they have taken on a sinister aspect. Their eyes seem to follow you wherever you move. A tall rectangular object, some 15’ tall, is just visible beyond the entrance, looming ominously in a shroud of pink mists.
The day had been magical in every way! Every child won a prize and every adult walked away with memories that would warm them through many cold winter nights. But now, to your horror, you learn that every child in the village has vanished! What witchery could fashion such a mass exodus? Your only clues are tiny footprints in the soft ground and trails of discarded wax-paper treat-wrappers, all leading back towards the village green… and the traveling carnival.
With pitchfork in hand (and your lucky hen tucked under your arm) you join a band of the bravest folk in the hamlet to make your way back to the carnival in search of answers; and, if the Gods will it, to win the safe return of the missing children!
You find yourself looking down into the moonlit valley that hosts the carnival. Thick fog clouds the entire area, shrouding the carnival in a hazy veil. The dim glow of garishly colored lights breaks through the mists here and there, shaping a vast oval. It’s almost as if your mind is playing tricks on you: you don’t remember the carnival being nearly so large by light of day! Making your way down to the entrance, you discover that what you had mistaken for fog is something else entirely: the floating mists are sickly pink, coursing about unnaturally in an almost sentient fashion, like a curious serpent! They pour over the wood and canvas walls, shrouding much of the entranceway in a pink haze. Your exposed flesh tingles as the cool mists close in to coil around you. The air smells faintly of sweets.
Two jesters carved into tall standing poles mark either side of the entrance. By day they looked innocent and comical, but under the light of the moon they have taken on a sinister aspect. Their eyes seem to follow you wherever you move. A tall rectangular object, some 15’ tall, is just visible beyond the entrance, looming ominously in a shroud of pink mists.
