"So. This is the Wayfaire huh?" Arath eyes the much-too-brightly coloured tents
in the distance with detached disdain. The place is much too noisy, with too
many children and general tomfoolery. Yet from what he had heard, helping out
these overenthusiastic tricksters with their games will earn him a hefty reward.
He checks over himself one last time to make sure his rapiers are secured in
his scabbards. He removes his helmet and straightens his whiskers, before he
touches up one last time on his appearance. Satisfied with himself, he strides
into the overly green pastures, only to be pushed aside by a large bunch of
eager kids. He tries to step away to avoid getting in the way of them, but he
slips, falls and ends up flat on the ground, and before he can get back on his
feet, the stampede of children rush over him. He mutters harshly as he pulls
himself back up on his feet, one paw moving to the hilt of his right rapier to
pull the weapon halfway out of the scabbard. "I swear..." He snorts loudly as he
pushes the weapon back in. "No. They're just a buncha kids. They're not worth
it." He begins to brush dirt of his armour, when a large, stressed and clearly
emotionally fragile man rushes towards him. The crazed guy talks loudly and
rapidly, raving on about some missing props of some sort. Arath only pays him
half an ear in attention, before he finally yields as the nagging becomes
unbearable. "Fine. Fine. I'll look for your props. Probably scattered around by
those kids anyway. Just stop bugging me." Arath pushes himself away from the man
and stumbles further towards the centre of the faire. Another group of kids pass
him by, and he has to quickly step back to avoid the trampling horde. He glowers
darkly as he watches them disappear towards a strange, spinning mechanical
contraption. Not interested in them the least, he turns to walk in the opposite
direction.

It does not take him long before he stumbles into a dimly lit tent, the shadows
almost as choking as the stale air. He notices several cages spread around the
tent, and curiosity compels him to step up to one of them. Inside the cage is a
very peculiar beast pacing back and forth with its back turned towards Arath. He
leans a little closer to try and get a good view of the creature, but this
prompts the beast to turn towards Arath and roar viciously. Instead of recoiling
back in surprise though, Arath merely claps his teeth together in response.
“Oh shut your trap. I'm not scared of you." Arath's eyes turn to gaze deeper
into the darkness of the tent, and he notices a tall, moving shape. In just a
few steps, he walks over to him. "Hey there. These your beasts?" "Yeah, mate.
Welcome to Garridan's menagerie. Sorry, but we ain't ready for a performance
just yet. I still need to feed the beasts." "Let me guess. You need help to feed
them?" Arath eyes the man suspiciously, his gut telling him that the answer is
"Yes, I could use your help, seeing that I'm all out of food." Arath smirks as
he tosses a quick glance out of the tent. "So what do they eat? Kids?" "HAH!"
Garridan's boisterous laugh echoes through the tent. "They'll eat that too given
the chance. No. I feed them rabbits. Live ones that live here in the wayfaire.
Makes em hard to catch." "Oh that's no trouble. Tracking live prey is my
specialty. I'll return shortly."

Arath leaves the tent to take in the fresher air outside, though he doesn't do
so with a smile. "Yeah. Just as I thought. These guys are really helpless. Gah!"
His thoughts trail of as a loud "HONK!" echoes into his ear. He turns to look at
a harlequin who backflips away from him to give similar treatment to another
visitor of the faire. Angered, he gives chase after her, a prospect which she
only laughs at. The two weave between guests, tents, workers and trashcans,
until the Harlequin disappears into a large house. When Arath follows her
inside, he is treated to many different reflections of himself, with no sight of
the harlequin anywhere. He stumbles through the mirrored hallways, angrily
glaring about himself until he finally stumbles upon a very peculiar woman in
the middle of a handstand. "Erm... did you see a woman run through here?" "Eh.
No deal no. If you're here for the show, you need to wait a while. My jesters
and harlequins all took a break to get some cotton candy. No idea why either.
Gives em terrible popmouth." "Popmouth? Oh nevermind. Now you need me to get
them back for you?" "Sure. If you do I'll give you a free ticket to the show."
Arath shrugs and nods. "Sounds like a good deal to me. I'll return later with
them." Arath turns to stomp his own way out of the house again, though that
would be easier thought than done. After a lot of getting lost, he finally
stumbles out, muttering to himself. "Moronic harlequins. As if they can frighten
me."

"Weeelcome, traveler. Welcome to the greeeeeat and mysteeeeerious madame Vadoma
Drabardi. Have you come to have your fortune read?" "Really..." Arath stares
blankly at the elderly woman before him. "You ask me if I want my fortune read?"
Arath rolls his eyes in disdain, before he turns back to glare harshly at the
woman. "I thought your job was to already know such a thing." "Yoooour futuuuure
is obscuuuured by the veeery threads of faaaate." "And also soooo very spooky.
Get to the point." "But before I may part the very threads of the fabric of
creaaaaation, yooooou must do me a faaaaavour." "Yeah, I really did not see that
one coming." Vadoma prods Arath rudely on his chest, as she slips a crystal ball
into his grip. "Empower this, so that I may see your future." "I'll show you
future." Arath grumbles to himself as he leaves the dim tent. He tucks the ball
into his backpack as he wades towards the last part of the faire which he has
yet to visit. He eyes the merry go round and quickly walks to the centre. "Okay.
You're the last guy I have to help. So what do you need help with?" The
toweringly tall man looks up from admiring himself, and licks his lips as he
gazes down upon Arath. "Yes. Yes. I know I'm gorgeous. Save that for later. What
do you need help with." The man does not seem to be taken aback at all by
Arath's blunt attitude. "Ja. Andzrej Pitivo can use your help. He needs you to
bring his strongmen and barkers to get back to work." "Sure. I'll do that. And
while I do that, you'll be here staring at yourself..." Even before Arath is
done speaking, Andrzej is back to staring at himself. With a very malcontent
grumble, Arath stumbles off the merry go round to finish the many requests.

"Blasted bastard brats." Arath grumbles as he removes a stray silk flower that
has entangled itself into his armour. "And that Dukker. I can't believe that the
fool didn't think to look at the very stage he used for his show to find his
missing props. Such disgusting helplessness." He grumbles as he kicks a stray
carrot out of the ground. "And those rabbits? Bah. Should've gone with children.
Less trouble for everyone involved that way. Not that the show was any good
either." He grumbles as a stampede of children pass him by. Used to those by
now, he nimbly steps aside. "And that... psychic? Psh. If she can see the
future, then I'm a Sentinel." He ducks low as a barker swings his cane towards
him, narrowly avoiding a direct hit to the head. "And those... "strongmen". Psh.
I could wrestle one of those down onto the ground without any trouble at all.
And then they cry. Pathethic. And only to move some statues in a circle. I'm
surprised even the brats enjoyed that." He growls darkly as he pulls some pink,
sticky fluff from his ear. "But the Harlequins. Oh that was the worst. Those
condescending smirks of those barkers. How I wish I could be hitting them with
the hammer and not the bell. I'm sure they'd scream loud enough." As prevalent
as the thoughts are, he brushes them from his mind as he enters the main tent.
He finds his seat, still growling even as the lightning dims and the show
begins. "At least it'll finally be over. Just one more stupid show and then..."

A while later, Arath exits the tent, a peculiar smile on his face. "I... have to
admit. Maybe it was worth it after all..."