Moon Man

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

I'm not sorry for the chaos Miizel is going to create.

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

As Miizel and Zavakri made their way to the Big Top, the gnome was having trouble navigating. It was less about the direction and more about size. The place was packed and he found himself being constantly bumped and pushed around. Needless to say, this irked him rather quickly.

“Watch where you’re going you shit with legs!” He yelled at one before turning to another who bumped into him saying. “Just cause you’re tall doesn’t mean you can’t fall!” Before balling up his fists and punching the poor fellow’s kneecaps.

But his efforts at deterring people were useless as everyone rushed to get seats which caused more collisions and only served to infuriate him more. He grabs Zavakri’s arm, signaling her to stop before reaching into his pouch and pulled out a handful of ball bearings before tossing them into the ground in front of them. Scattering the tiny metal balls into the crowd.

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

Zavakri & Miizel

& The Dungeon Master

As Zavakri and Miizel make their way to the Hall of Illusions, they notice that the air around them seem brighter than before. The stars above them twinkle a little more so, and the people around them seem happier. When they reach the Hall of Illusions, they see that this large tent is painted with a mural of shifting images that show grinning faeries diving into pools of color. The helical stripes of the tent's pointed canopies rotate in spirals, and the whole display seems designed to befuddle onlookers.

Near the Hall of Illusions, there is a wooden mannequin of a grinning, raven-haired young woman in witch's attire and a green flowing cape hovers inside a glass cabinet. At the top of the cabinet, a sign reads "Tasha the Wizard—Known for Her Hideous Laughter."

Right now, a human witchlight hand stands near the entrance of the attraction with a ticket puncher ready.

Miizel approaches the witchlight hand and presents his ticket.

"I’ve been told that a certain bugbear was last seen here.” Miizel casually mentions. “Was it inside the Hall or the general area around it?”

The Witchlight Hand tilts her head and she answers, clearly confused, "I'm...sorry? I'm a new Witchlight Hand, so I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're talking about. I'm just holding the fort here until Candlefoot comes back,"

She then asks, "Oh! Are you here for the Hall of Illusions? Well, step right up and I'll punch your tickets for the attraction!"

Zavakri frowns slightly. Then severely. And finally she tilts her head a bit.

"Do people truly enjoy...Illusions? I can't fathom it, honestly. Willingly allowing yourself to be deceived? That's so mind boggling, that'd be like leaving the kettle on to boil then starting a chore only to forget that you had the kettle on in the first place and having to run back across the house to get at it as it screams at you the whole time. I like my world to be the way it's supposed to be, thank you very much!"

She extends her ticket all the while, offering it to the attendant despite her diatribe.

"Candlefoot? New Witchlight Hand? This is all so very interesting- who's Candlefoot?"

The new Witchlight Hand tilts her head as she listens to Zavakri's biting words regarding illusions. She shrugs as she answers, "I mean...I guess it depends on the person? Plus, if you're told up front that you're about to see illusions, then is it really deception to begin with? In the kettle context, by informing fairgoers that they're going to see illusions, we'd be telling them to keep an eye on the kettle, right?"

She then shrugs at her own questions, her own mood cheerful despite Zavakri's words. The mood is too good for anyone to take offense.

The Witchlight Hand punches Miizel's and Zavakri's tickets as she answers, "Oh! Candlefoot is the mime. He was here earlier, but then he took off running when he got his voice back! No doubt to see Palasha,"

Miizel looks up at Zavakri with a puzzled expression, as if just now realizing that his companion is a little bit stuck up. He then turns back to the Witchlight Hand and says. “Bah, don’t worry about it. Come on let’s go.”

As they enter he’s going to say to Zavakri. “You don’t have to think too much about the logic of a carnival attraction. Not everything needs to be philosophical.”

As Miizel and Zavakri enter the Hall of Illusions, they see tall mirrors line the interior walls of the tent. The mirrors near the entrance reflect onlookers in their youth; the images grow steadily older, until the mirrors deep within the hall reflect onlookers in their twilight years.

Miizel begins to look distracted as he stares into the interior of the Hall of Illusions. His brows furrow in confusion, trying to make sense of the memories, or lack thereof. It seemed like the Hall held answers to questions he didn't know he had. Miizel begins to enter the Hall without waiting for Zavakri.

"It's not about the philosophy it's about-"

She watches, briefly surprised by Miizel's sudden departure. She raises a hand as if her solitary source of stability in this uncertain world were slipping away, then rushes herself along with him.

"I take it you're fond of illusions then." She chimes.

Miizel doesn’t hear what Zavakri says and instead takes a step forward. Then another, and another, and before long he was winding down the Hall. Each step and turn had purpose in them, as if he knew this place like the back of his hand. It even surprised him.

As he passes by the mirrors, he could see a younger version of himself. Dozens upon dozens of reflections of a gnome child walking through these halls. He wasn’t even looking at where he was going anymore, his focus was on the reflection of a childhood long gone.

Suddenly his feet came to an abrupt stop and looking forward he could see another mirror. Those around him still showed his younger self but the one in front was different. He couldn’t quite make out what it is but that it tugged at something on the furthest reaches of his memory. His heart was pounding and a cold sweat began to form. Miizel took several deep breaths and slowly reached out to touch it.

As he slowly reaches out to touch it, the few seconds seem to pass agonizingly slow...

His heartbeat pounds louder and louder, his hand shakes more and more, until finally....!

...

...

His hand touches the mirror. It rests on the mirror surface. Nothing happened when Miizel touched the mirror.

Confusion overtakes the gnome’s face as he puts his other hand against the mirror. He taps it a few times then begins looking around and behind it.

The mirror surface remains just as solid when he places the other hand on the mirror surface. Nothing happens when he taps the mirror. He doesn't see anything odd or out of the ordinary around or behind the mirror.

Miizel shakes his head and turns to look at Zavakri, an annoyed look on his face. “Sorry. I don’t know what got into me. The moment we stepped into the Hall I felt something tugging at me. Pulling me forward and leading me…well…here.” He turns to motion at the mirror he was just inspecting. “I’ve searched the mirror and the area around it but to no avail. Sorry for wasting your time.”

Miizel shakes his head and turns to look at Zavakri, an annoyed look on his face. “Sorry. I don’t know what got into me. The moment we stepped into the Hall I felt something tugging at me. Pulling me forward and leading me…well…here.” He turns to motion at the mirror he was just inspecting. “I’ve searched the mirror and the area around it but to no avail. Sorry for wasting your time.”

"Eh, what?" She blinks at him, severely distracted in her own right; this current mirror was annoyingly portraying her in all her teenaged glory... And it was not very flattering to her mind, what with her gangling limbs- and, drama!, how she needed to wash her hair more! She blinks several times before tearing her eyes away and looking to Miizel. She clears her throat, her mind digesting his words.

"Oh, nonsense there chum; this place has some kind of power over us all, I'm sure of it. Each of us given a free ticket is here for a reason, though mine is plain enough. I raced off to where I felt drawn to; you did as well. To reference our conversation with Feathreen and the perceptions of time...You didn't waste my time, we're all here trying to regain some time we lost long ago."

She smiles wanly and places a hand on her hip.

"Frankly, friend, I'm terrified to go much further down this hall of mirrors. I don't think I'm ready to see myself as a crone. I already suspect I'll be needing glasses 'fore long, I'd hate to have a visual to back up that probability. We can stay here and look around as long as you need though! I'm not going anywhere." she offered supportively.

"I appreciate that. I'm good now, I'm sure it'll come back to me as we travel the carnival." He gives her a smile and puts his hands on his hips. "Well, I suppose we should get going then."

As Miizel and Zavakri head out of the Hall of Illusions, they hear the joyful sounds of the crowd bustling about outside. The carnival outside of this Hall seems to have become a much more welcoming place compared to this Hall...

When they reach the outside, they see that a lot of the customers are heading for the Big Top! The next event is apparently taking place there.

Within the hall, something lurks in the shadows, watching them leave before it vanishes.

In This Fine Town of Arkham - A Tale of Lovecraftian Horror

---

---

Eugene Esposito

Arkham always seems to attract gloomy weather, so it has certainly rained in the last few days. In fact, it is fortunate that it is not raining now. Now that they were standing still, Eugene observes his companion. He doesn’t notice any irregular breathing, but Mister Violet appears to be a fit and healthy figure, so he likely would have recovered for exertion quickly. Not only that, but the mud on his shoes appears to be dried somewhat.

Mister Violet takes the cigarette with a smile, holding it out to Eugene to be lit. "Thank you, old boy. I feel that where we are headed, friends will be a rare commodity" From further down the road, there comes the sound of hooves on stone, and both men will turn to see a horse-drawn carriage making its way towards them. "Looks like our ride"

Perhaps he was in a hurry and took the first pair of shoes he found? No? As far as he know only people with a certain amount of power can get into Wilde Hall. Maybe Mister Violet was like him, obtaining an invitation using a different method. He took a long drag as the carriage stopped in front of them. Eugene studied its driver. "Good evening sir, is this the carriage headed to the ball?"
The driver is a tall and wiry man. The first thing Eugene notices is that the driver is only wearing a dark shirt, and breeches, despite the chill in the air. If the man feels the cold, he doesn't show it, and his face barely shifts as he turns to look at Eugene. The driver is young, younger than Eugene, looking to be in his early twenties, or even his late teens. His voice is monotone, and disinterested. "If you have an invitation"

Eugene looks at Mister Violet with a raised eyebrow and digs through his coat pocket to retrieve his invitation. Mister Violet shrugged slightly, before pulling out his own invitation from a pocket within his suit jacket.

How strange, Eugene thinks to himself before handing out his own invitation to be inspected.

Eugene notices once again that the man's face barely moves, and there's no real reaction to the invitation as the driver scans it. Seemingly satisfied, he will hand it back, before doing the same with Mister Violet's. Returning Mister Violet's invitation, the driver straightened up slightly, hands moving to grip the reins again. "I'll be leaving in a few minutes. You'll find seats in the back"

Eugene takes the invitation back and boards the back of the carriage. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable on the inside, perfectly sheltered from the night chill. Once seated he'll look over to Mister Violet as he climbs and pretends that he is only now seeing the state of his shoes.

"Took a wrong step on the way here?"

Mister Violet clambers inside, closing the door behind him. At Eugene's words, Mister Violet glances down at his shoes, turning them slightly to get a better look at the mud as he shrugs slightly, smiling warmly. "I guess so. But then, you know how the streets are. Progress all around us, but still mud on the streets"

Eugene’s tried to see if there was a hidden meaning behind Mister Violet’s words but the man seemed quite truthful. Just like he himself had seen, some of the quieter roads that trace through Arkham are still little more than dirt paths. He decides to pass the time, engaging his companion in some idle chatter. After a few minutes, the carriage starts to move forward, but before it could gain distance there is a shout from the street, and it slows to a halt again. Through the window of the carriage, Eugene will be able to make out a muffled conversation.

Peering through, Eugene sees a figure talking to the carriage driver. With his eyes having grown accustomed to the light in the carriage, it is difficult to make out any details, but he notices the figure holding something out towards the coachman. Mister Violet who is sitting opposite Eugene, had his back to this scene, so as Eugene peers out, his companion will lean forward slightly, his voice low. "Another guest?"

“It seems so.” Eugene replies, trying listen in on the conversation. He makes out that the newcomer is offering his invitation and coach man with his monotone voice tells him to enter. The stranger makes their way to the door, pulling it open, and seeming to start slightly when he sees Eugene and Mister Violet inside. This gives Eugene a chance to get a good look at him. Dark hair, cut short and neat, an unremarkable face, a simple, black mask, resting a nose crooked from some long-healed break. It's the eyes that catch in the light, and that catch Eugene's attention. The right is dark, like the rest of the man's features, but the left is a brilliant blue. The stranger seems to be breathing a little heavy but considering how cold the night was getting, Eugene just pushes it to the back of his mind.

A booming voice rings out as Mister Violet breaks the silence. “Another guest! Wonderful!”

Eugene nods and does a much calmer greeting. “Good evening.” Looking closely he notices that their new companion had two different coloured eyes. A dark right, and a brilliant blue left.

The man gets over his initial startle and looks between Eugene and Mister Violet before forcing a smile. "I apologise, I didn't expect anyone... Good evening." His voice is a drawl, clearly from somewhere in the deep south.

"No need to apologise, we're all colleagues on our way to a grand party." Eugene extends a hand. "I am called Genie, and the happy fellow next to me is Mister Violet. Let's get along Mister.."

The stranger looks down at Eugene's hand, apparently still in shock at the presence of the two men in carriage. A beat passes, a moment that seems to stretch out, and then the man takes Eugene's hand in a firm grip, shaking it sharply. "Call me Red. Nice to meet you both." With that, he clambers inside the carriage, goes to close the door once he has taken his seat.

Eugene leans back into his seat but then quickly perks up when he hears someone call out to the carriage. Just as Red was about to close the door his hand shoots out, keeping it open. He peers outside and sees a woman in a lovely blue dress. He turns back to his companions in the carriage. “It seems like we’ve another guest joining us. The more the merrier isn’t that right Mister Violet?”

“Room for one more?” The woman inquired.

His attention returns to the newcomer outside. With an extended hand, he says. “Of course madam, come on in.”

“Thank you. I’m pleased I caught you. I thought for a moment I would have to make other arrangements and arrive late.” She smiled, taking his hand. “As to introductions, I’m Mrs. Copper this evening, a bit tarnished I’m afraid,” This was said with a sweep of her hand over her silk aqua harem trousers. “And you are?”

"Mrs. Copper? That's dandy, just dandy. Thank you for bringing some much needed grace to our rag-tag band, madam." Mr Violet says with a warm and jovial tone.

“Oh, how rude of me. Tonight, I am called Genie. Thank you for gracing us with your presence Mrs. Copper.” He complimented. Eugene knew that these rich folk loved it when you give them words of praise no matter how tacky. Still, her name sounded familiar. He was suddenly brought back to NYC. Memories of corrupt policemen working with the mob and the few just ones that tried to bring them down. They had a nickname for those type of people. The fuzz. Blues. Bulls. Buttons.Copper.

Eugene swallowed saliva, his heart pounding. “Well then, it seems like the carriage is practically full.” He said, trying to divert the topic. Poking his head out the door to call to the driver, the night wind cooled his face. “Excuse me driver, I think we’re just about ready to go.”
Mrs Copper leans back into her unclaimed seat and relaxes. “For all the grace it provides, I hope my presence does not strip the joviality from you fine men! Tonight, is for gaiety and I mean to make merry! Laughter led me to your coach. Do let me in on the joke, unless it dulls in the retelling, in which case do substitute another.”

Eugene notices that Mister Violet’s gaze remains on the newcomer and his already wide smile somehow…gets even wider when she requested a joke. How unsettling. "I am afraid there was no joke of note, but I am joyous to hear that we are kindred spirits in merriment!” Said Mister Violet. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, and I shall endeavour to ensure that we enjoy our night, or at the very least, this coach journey. Speaking of..."

He leans forwards lightly and joins Eugene in looking at the driver. If he heard Eugene’s request he didn’t show it but a flick of the wrist could be seen and the coach finally starts moving. Heading towards their destination.

"Quite a strange fellow that one." Eugene motions towards the driver. "Doesn't seem like the type of person to be hired by someone as influential as our host." He looked at the other three in the carriage. Mister Violet, Red, and Mrs. Copper. Out of all of them, Mister Violet seemed the most out of place. His loud and joyful demeanor freaked Eugene out a bit.

Leaning back into his seat comfortably Eugene spoke with a curious tone. “What an honor isn’t it? Being invited to the Wilde Hall after all those years of silence. I must say, I’m quite nervous and excited. Still I do wonder, what made them open the gates after all this time.”

Mister Violet cast’s a sideward glance at Eugene before speaking. “Perhaps the question is not why do they open their gates it’s why we choose to go in.”

The air in the carriage shifts for a moment as the question made Eugene and perhaps, the others, question their own motives. As he looked outside, Eugene could swear that the dark was getting darker. But it was a fleeting moment as Mister Violet continues. "I have to say, I am damn glad to have bumped into you all, if you'll pardon my language Mrs. Copper. I was worried that the evening was going to be a painfully boring affair, but I feel far brighter knowing I will have you fine folk at my side."

He notices that his jovial companion glance at Mr. Red before quickly averting his gaze. As if nothing happened, Mister Violet and Mrs. Copper engage in some back and forth conversation, the words going in one ear and out the other as Eugene chooses to look out the window instead. There wasn’t really anything to gleam from their talking, something about wild elephants or whatever. But what Mr. Violet says next caused a chill to run down Eugene’s back.

"I have not had the pleasure of seeing Wilde Hall with my own eyes, no. But I assure you, Mrs Copper, that I have a personal interest in the night that lies ahead. I imagine I am not alone in that."

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

Dirlagraun looks so damn cool

The Wild Beyond Witchlight

LOL.

As a DM...
I'm just looking forward to what you guys will encounter in the future. Muahahahaha...!

@Guardian Angel Haruki

Can't wait to get explosives in the future

Fall of Faerieland

Arma climbs up the ladder and tries to fiddle with the lock to no avail.

“Damn! It’s locked pretty well.” He says, emerging from the fireplace. “You guys can either have a go at it or we could keep looking around.”

Fall of Faerieland

@Birdboy Just a straight dex check?

Edit:Yeah it doesn't matter either way

Fall of Faerieland

@Birdboy Could I still try to pick the lock without thieves tools? Or can I use a substitute like a dart or something. Also what's the trap door made of?

Fall of Faerieland

Damn, Arma doesn't have any thieves tools. Maybe he should just try punching the lock XD