Inside an old fortunetelling tent a painted harlequin in ragged motley hunches over a rose-colored palantir. He giggles occasionally, his white-painted features twitching
Palantir of Pain
The horrid figure giggles more, the choked sound like a drowning victim coughing his last. The pink globe paints the tent fabric with a sickly fuscha glow - a sick-room color more suited for nasty-tasting nostrums.
Lucinda Darkeyes wrote:
The Gigggler prances over and grabs the biscuit, Kytania following
Dog I may be,
Looks over at the small lizard
Wisdom comes from unexpected places
Lucinda Darkeyes wrote:
The Giggler looks at the woman, as does Kytania
Greetings fair maid!
Two figures flash into being on the dock with the boat readied by the Denezins of Leng. One beats out a hornpipe dance on the ancient pilings while singing aloud, the other giggling as her chains beat out a lively tempo to her companion's gyrations.
Free at last!
The clown cavorts, the chained girl giggles and the boards creak and maunder.
The harlequin bows
My liberator, Kytania sweet
He opens his mouth and a gout of foul-smelling water comes bursting forth. The water swirls in a circular pattern, hovering in the air. The center opens up to reveal a portal. The Giggler steps through, holding out one bony hand for Kytania. They disappear and the water portal collapses on the ground.
The black vapor reforms into a skiny man in greasepaint and motlry clothes. His hat is festooned with multiple bells that jingle and cry.
My love my sweet!
But 'fore we leave here one last trick
The man capers around the chained creature, cavorting madly and giggling
The Shadow wrote:
The clown grins evilly
The shadow with a weeping heart,
The harlequin shifts his dagger and advances on Oroth
The harlequin man prances through the carnival, then pauses, head c0cked to the side
By the pricking of my thumbs ...something wicked this way comes ..
He leaps up and addresses the shadowy crowd.
The pale girl nears! The time for the autumn people to rise up is nigh! Follow me and we shall dance the Danse Macabre!
The odd crowd roars and follows the Giggler as he leads them out and away towards the distant Threads of Light
The carnival's loudspeakers crash out an off-kilter carnival tune as the Giggler leads a parade of shadow children, freaks and undead down the midway
See the freaks!
The line of weirdly mutated and oddly amputated beings shuffle hop and slither to the din of the carnival organ's tune
Smagnavast the Black wrote:
A skinny man in motley dances along the carnival
A lizard with an ego huge
Perhaps we have no acid dire
The man jumps and cartwheels along the grotesque inhabitants giggling in a high-pitched voice
A skinny figure dances among the garish tents of the morbid carnival. He turns a flip or a cartwheel every so often.
Blood on the threads where the heroes now linger
He giggles occasionally, a sound that makes hearers uneasy as he prances down the ghastly midway.
The skinny harlequin dances the Chaleston around the spot where Oroth stood:
A shadow with a bleeding heart
The harlequin tickles the chin of a newly-formed shadow minion.
I think he's stolen only meat
The skinny harlequin giggles obscenely
'Tis not the laughing clown,
The Giggler snatches up two more daggers and pitches them downrange. They each land in one of the child's eyesockets. His screams cut off like a light switch. The Giggler bows to Oroth.
I have done as you have asked,
The lean clown does backflips and cartwheels around Oroth, laughing raucously.
A man dressed in fool's motley steps out from behind the erinyes' wings
Water water everywhere
The Harlequin grins, and his mouth opens impossibly wide. A gush of foul fetid water comes streaming out of his painted mouth with firehose ferocity, slamming into the heroes.
The Eighth Runelord wrote:
The harlequin turns cartwheels around the Runelord
Your satisfaction plagues me not
The raggedy acrobat backflips away.
The Eighth Runelord wrote:
The skinny clown dances about
My errand is to search for clues,
The skinny ragged man seems unusually animated, prancing about and chanting nonsense rhymes
A priestess and a harlequin
A bottle, spoon and pot of sauce
A braggart crowed up to the skies
He twirls and gambols all about the Carnival, pinching prisoners and chucking the chins of the small shadow children
The harlequin man prances about
I've done my best to tip the side
The skinny dripping man giggles obscenely, bowing and scraping before his dread lord
A harlequin-garbed man traipses in
Lord Momus your plans are near
The man trails droplets of water as he bows to Lord Momus, runnels of water pooling on the floor under his long feet.
The skinny man giggles and howls as the chain wraps his neck
Hee Hee Hee Hee!
With that, the harlequin's entire body turns into water and splashes to the ground. The liquid oozes into the cracks of the Record Room floor. Soon there is no trace of the Giggler save for the echo of his insane laughter.
A skinny man in fool's motley climbs over the edge of the eyrie where the wise birds sleep. He dances along, a trail of wet footprints behind him. He reaches into a small crevice and withdraws something, putting it in his basket. He hums softly to himself as he skips over to the sacrificial altar.
What came first, the chicken or the egg?
Pauses to sprinkle some strange dust on the sacrificial altar and then skips to the edge of the precipice and begins to crawl down the rocky slope. A faint sound of manic giggling wafts up as he descends.
The skinny man in fool's motley sweeps into the Records Room. He places two small pieces of the Goddess in front of the Bookkeeper.
I found two chunks of mistress dear
The mans voice has changed, sounding very phlegmmy. His footsteps trail behind him outlined in water, but his clothes are dry.
A skinny man dressed in fool's motley comes skipping into the weed-choked parking lot outside the ruined temple. He picks up something near the sewer grate and places it in a basket on his arm.
Tralaa tralee ...
Observing the many zombies wandering around the grounds, he capers and laughs
It's a dead man's party,
The skinny man raises his arms and makes like a zombie, staggering into the ruin. He follows the trail of squished revenants until he reaches the dias with the water sphere. The many zombies don't seem to pay any attention to him. He sees the revolving sphere and giggles to himself
Water rolling back and forth
He leaps onto the dias and grabs the sphere. The water collapses, running down his arms until it flows into his laughing mouth. The entire sphere disappears within the laughing figure. He gurgles, his voice much more watery.
Blub blub blub
The figure hops and dances along the corridors, eventually emerging and skipping offscene.
A skinny man dressed in fool's motley prances along the war-torn fields.
A trisket a tasket
And indeed, the man is swinging a wicker basket on one pipe-thin arm as he skips to and fro.
He stops by a grove of trees and picks up something
Aha! I think I found a part!
He looks up and sees the young willow tree. He reaches into his pouch and pulls a razor-sharp dagger
Time to let them know I'm here,
Carves a evil smile on the small tree, with the word 'Giggler' underneath.
Time to go, I must fly!
Skips off, not noticing the weeping sap his deep cuts have caused to roll down the willow's tender bark.
The Bookkeeper wrote:
The motleyed fool opens a pouch and the daggers and skulls drop in.
I shall gather the mistress as you have asked,
The strange man prances out of the Records Room, giggling in a high-pitched manner
A slender man dressed in ragged fool's motley sweeps into the Records Room. His face is made up in the form of a clown, making him look almost jovial, if you didn't notice his flat, dead doll eyes. He sweeps up to the Bookkeeper and gives her a sweeping bow.
I hear you search for secrets dire
The skinny fool withdraws several round white shapes from a pouch and begins to juggle them.
Perhaps this fool can help your quest
The skinny man adds several daggers to the juggling routine. Upon closer examination, the round objects are small skulls.