Warnings for language, blood, gore, body horror, clowns (evil), and lots of child endangerment
The air reeked of celebration.
It was an odd observation, to be sure, but it was an observation nonetheless. The air carried with it the telltale signs of something
special happening - quick-fried foods, sugar, beasts of burden and considerable amounts of strewn straw. The general odor of crowds of bodies in an excited state. Sweat, lantern oil, and-- interestingly, paint. This all coincided, of course, with the other general signs of something Fun happening. There was laughter, a natural byproduct. Amused chatter cut by loud cries grabbing for anyone and everyone's attention. Music played on various instruments filled what little quiet that filled the ever-darkening evening air.
Admittedly, Shea Ru would not consider himself a particular expert on things such as local festivals - the Incident in Thanatos had made that much extremely clear. It was a gap in his learning that he didn't feel was particularly important to rectify completely within a short amount of time, but it was a gap that needed rectifying nonetheless. If he just so happened upon one, it was imperitive that he investigate. Devotion, after all, did not possess limitations.
It also didn't hurt that he quite literally had been walking the roads of Ravensway for days, and this was the first town he had come across since crossing the provincial border. While his mind remained perfectly alert, the body did require some form of rest, and he had not had time to prepare himself for a fresh start quite yet. A few nights' stay in a quaint little town would certainly not hurt him any - even if the bright, alarmingly-smiling visages painted on the sides of the wagons gave him something of a pause.
While there was plenty that could be said for artistic license, Shea Ru was very,
very sure that no human possessed quite that many teeth. Or was ever that happy outside of a considerable psychological event.
Given that there were wagons, and the tents arranged on the outskirts of the small town had the look of being well-used and well-traveled, Shea was sure that this was not an exclusively local form of festivity, but rather more akin to a roving band of entertainers. He stepped along the pathways created by several smaller tents, each one advertising something different: feather candy, sweet dogs, candied apples, sticky corn, deep fried pies, games involving bottles and rings, balls and cans, tests of dexterity and strength. All of these were carefully monitored by blindingly colorful people - each one with their face painted and their mouths pulled into wider and wider smiles.
Shea Ru was familiar enough with the facsimile of smiling to know none of them actually meant it. A quick dart of the eyes here and there, and the motivation was clear - the games were not meant to be something most could win, and even the presentation of specialized foods was done with the intention of collecting as many coins as possible from the townsfolk.
The further he walked, the more the influence of magic became obvious. The lanterns towards the center all floated several feet above everyone's heads, each one twinkling between various bright colors, bathing all of them in veils of greens and blues and pinks that shifted smoothly from one to the other. The brightest lights were around the center tent, which was also the largest of all them, making sure everyone around the whole carnival could see and read the words even in the gathering night:
Happy Jack's Funhouse!
Shea stopped in his tracks to consider the tent, its doorway a huge mimicry of a clown's wide-open mouth. He couldn't quite see inside, and it took him a moment to recognize why - more magic, darkening the space beyond the clown's mouth, the only hint that passage was capable being the railway tracks that led directly inside, currently housing a cart that was being loaded with grinning, laughing townsfolk.
Once the cart was loaded and several metal bars were lowered to keep its passengers in place, the assortment of colorful clowns manning the front of the funhouse stepped away. Shea watched as the cart pulled back on the rails, before speeding forward, the delighted yells of the passengers disappearing into the mouth while a laughing, disembodied voice yelled "yum!" After that, Shea couldn't hear the passengers at all.
Curious.
The body needed sleep. But the mind needed to know where that passage led. As Shea considered his options, one of the clowns approached, boisterous and welcoming.
"Hey now, don't be shy! The next cart is coming, so step on up, and enjoy the ride!"
Very curious. Shea watched as another cart did, in fact, materialize onto the rails, empty of passengers and metal bars open to allow for a fresh batch to settle in.
"Just a shil, and you'll be on your way!" the clown insisted, one gloved hand held out expectantly. Ah, yes. Shils, those were one of the (admittedly numerous) coins used in the borders of Serendipity. Shea pulled a small purse out of his satchel, and considered the contents for a long moment, before recognizing which of the various forms of currency were appropriate for the environment. He pressed the coin into the clown's hand, and returned his smile. The clown, however, did not seem to be prepared to be met this way, and his own painted smile faltered just a bit upon meeting Shea's eye.
Still, payment received, and he quickly waved Shea on board the cart, before turning his attention back to the other carnival-goers in the hopes of finding another passenger.
"Step right up for a wild ride! Just one shil!"