The Carnival arrived, much fanfare indeed.
Along with The Circus, in a time of need...
Your days have been dark ones of late. Months and months go by, and things have been stagnant or decaying around you. The factory hums, people collect paychecks, but... there's something in the air about your town. The cracks in the sidewalk loom wider. The mood of your neighbors turns darker. And your baby sister seems to be losing that spark of hope and innocence she always had. But what can you do in this world to change it? You've got bills to pay, a job to get to, and it leaves you too bone tired to do anything else except subsist.
But tonight, something changed. Tonight you left work and headed home like usual, only to see something you had never seen before in this town. The city park had been overtaken by a forest of tents, and uniquely decorated booths only belonging to a carnival, all ringed by a wrought iron fence, its bars warped into the shapes of birds in flight, dragons battling knights, and other fanciful images.
The tents themselves had no uniformity of look. They all came in black, white, emerald, scarlet, purple, and a hundred other hues you've seen but cannot name. Drawn by this strange happening, you approach the ticket booth along with a growing throng of individuals. It is not free to enter, but you are shocked by how cheap it is to buy a ticket. Surely they mean to milk you dry for games of chance or prizes.
But you find none of these. As the sun sets, the circus tents come alive with supernatural, and stupendous acts. You are not charged a dime for any of these, but some ask for strange things- for you to kiss your own palm upon entering, the name of your favorite toy as a child, or the last name of your first love.
A fortune teller knows your name, that your birthday is in two weeks, and advises you to call your mother promptly tomorrow at noon. When you do, you find that you reached her just in time to help her with a medical emergency, saving her life. But that will come later.
The knife thrower volunteers you for her act. Her blades will buzz close to your skin, sheering off your hair. When you step away, it looks professionally cut, and Michael Bellikoff, your crush, compliments you when he sees you later on.
But the strangest thing comes as you're eating caramel popcorn, taking a shortcut between tents. Two performers are whispering around a corner. They plot about hunting a "rooted demon" in the town, how "its' corruption has only begun taking root" and how they will speak to the Circus Masters about "leading a hunt" for the beast. This puzzles you, but you've seen a theater tent earlier. No doubt this part is just an act.
In the morning, the carnival - the circus - is gone. And the shadows cast about town are strangely lighter than before...
In times gone by, battles between creatures of Order and Chaos played out among humans in the every day. The Powers-That-Be have since... mellowed out a bit, and declared a truce. No more cities laid waste by fire and ash, no more beasts running rampant in the streets devouring innocents. And for a while, the truce held.
But the forces of Chaos were never trusted, and rightfully so. They sneak and skulk through the human world, infesting towns and cities with their insidious presence, claiming earth and souls alike for the dark powers. The creatures of Order know that to call them out on this behavior would tear the treaty asunder. Millions would die from the destruction unleashed by the Powers-That-Be going to war on the mortal plane.
And so, they themselves did something remarkable. They cheated.
One of their numbers voluntarily Fell, was cast down to Earth, and forfeited most of it's power. But, in exchange, it was given the strength to empower others in the quest to root out the daemons of chaos to new, mythical heights. These performers form a pact with the Being, called "The Ringmaster", to forfeit their souls in exchange for some measure of power. For 7 years, their lives are forfeited to the Circus. And they may renew the contract for another 7 years after it expires, again and again until they perish in battle or grow tired of the fight.
The Ringmaster and the Circus move from town to town, city to city, as a traveling troupe of a city-sized-circus. To the citizens of its latest stop, it is a place of respite and wonder. A lure to draw in all those cast in the shadows of daemons. And while the people are distracted by the glorious acts before them, teams of mystical performers-turned-warriors have one night to hunt the daemon of the city. To tarry too long in one place is to invite the ire and hunger of the daemon hordes...
