So listen to the secret things you hear the west wind say.
Sunset, days after the vanishing of the first group, the Carnival goes oddly still. The rides don't stop, the crowd keeps moving, but in spite of all the noise and motion there's a frozen feeling in the air, like everything in motion is just a collection of confetti in a shaken snow globe.
They pour onto the midway without a sound and the fae in attendance melt out of their way - those that don't move fast enough lose limbs or heads to the invaders. They themselves are a mixed lot, going on a hundred in number, some of them snakelike with front claws and rear wings, some built like scorpions, some like other animals and some humanoid. A few have metal limbs or twisted faces. Their goal becomes clear after moments, as they seize every stranger to the wood they can lay claws on. Cloths dipped in something aromatic and intoxicating get shoved in the faces of the victims, dropping them in seconds. The clumsy kidnappers sweep their prizes up and flood out of the carnival as quickly as they came.
When they wake, the kidnapped will find themselves in small cells with outlines of doors cut into sandstone - only outlines, almost like cave drawings, with no way for the things to be opened. Each person has their belongings intact- including those initially kidnapped, who will wake to find themselves shifted to these smaller rooms with new company. They will also find themselves wearing bone collars without clasps, not secured to the walls this time, but impossible to break or remove. Holes in the ceiling let in a little light, and every so often someone overhead will pause and peer down and whisper to someone with them, variations on a single statement.
It's them. The ones she sent the raiders for. It's them. We're almost free.
[[To see cell arrangements, click here.]]
They pour onto the midway without a sound and the fae in attendance melt out of their way - those that don't move fast enough lose limbs or heads to the invaders. They themselves are a mixed lot, going on a hundred in number, some of them snakelike with front claws and rear wings, some built like scorpions, some like other animals and some humanoid. A few have metal limbs or twisted faces. Their goal becomes clear after moments, as they seize every stranger to the wood they can lay claws on. Cloths dipped in something aromatic and intoxicating get shoved in the faces of the victims, dropping them in seconds. The clumsy kidnappers sweep their prizes up and flood out of the carnival as quickly as they came.
When they wake, the kidnapped will find themselves in small cells with outlines of doors cut into sandstone - only outlines, almost like cave drawings, with no way for the things to be opened. Each person has their belongings intact- including those initially kidnapped, who will wake to find themselves shifted to these smaller rooms with new company. They will also find themselves wearing bone collars without clasps, not secured to the walls this time, but impossible to break or remove. Holes in the ceiling let in a little light, and every so often someone overhead will pause and peer down and whisper to someone with them, variations on a single statement.
It's them. The ones she sent the raiders for. It's them. We're almost free.
[[To see cell arrangements, click here.]]