Hydaelyn Role-Players

(The story written below was co-written by myself and several others, but it sets up the backstory for Elsie Grey, aka Aranya Northbrook. I'll be posting it in several parts, as it's quite long.) 

The door of the tavern opened with a flourish, and he entered. That was the moment Elsie's life changed.

She had been sitting at a table by herself, nursing a bowl of stew that was slowly cooling, and watching the other patrons of the bar. Everyone was in a jovial mood. Nearby, a trio of men were sitting around a table, rolling a game of dice. The sound of mugs clattering, people talking, and laughter filled the air. Her eyes were drawn to the man that entered. He was hard to miss. The flickering lights of the tavern were too dim to see the face beneath that oversized top hat. The walking cane was spun and the light glinted off the silver goat's head at its top, smiling back at you with beady and terrible red eyes. The purple velvet coat was faded and worn, its tails dancing around the man's calves. The loosely worn belt served to hold a bullwhip and a dagger with a ridiculously long blade. The black and gray vertical striped pants had seen better days, the material thin and frayed, tucked into knee high brown boots of worn out leather, buckles and straps. He lifted his head just enough to glimpse the goatee and the baleful smile, the black painted lips, grease painted face and teeth that had been filed to points. In one grandiose motion, the hat was removed and he took a deep, extravagant bow, long black hair obscuring his features. His head raised, and the first bemusement of the night is seen in one glass eye, an "X" serving as a pupil.

Elsie was entranced. Her spoon remained poised in midair, as she stared at the man who had just entered the room and captivated her attention. He caught her bemused stare, and flashed a grin so sharp it seemed like it could cut a person. In a few swift strides, he had crossed the room and placed himself at the table across from her.

"Greetings, Lass." His voice was like smooth whiskey. "Might I be joining ya for a drink?" He spun his hat in his hand as it was taken from his head, and plunked down on the table next to him. Grinning broadly, he leaned across the table, his one good eye going from her face, to the mug in front of her, and back to her face again. "What are we having?"

Elsie blinked at the man for a moment, a bit taken aback by the man. He smelled like cherry tobacco, wind and rain. She had never met anyone quite like him before, in her life. Introducing herself, she learned that his name was Jeriko Arcady. That he was the leader of the Duskmoon Fair- a band of drifters, swindlers and rogues that had found their way to one another and traveled from city to city. The two of them talked long into the evening, and he invited her to come see the show, the next night....

Set out among the fields is a long dirt road. A soft glow in the distance tells you that you're on the right path. The old, cracked wooden sign stuck in the ground proclaims that you have indeed found the Duskmoon Fair.


A 10 foot tall fence that is in desperate need of a new paint job obscures your view of what lays beyond it. Usually these places have something sordid about them- which is both intrinsic and necessary. the sawdust on the track, the smell of animal dung, the dust from old marquees, the whiff of sweat below the tent canvas. The silver gleam of the eyes of a nocturnal animal can be seen stalking between the wagons.


The smell of animals, hay, candied apples and popcorn grows even stronger now. Outside the tent, small booths are set up allowing one to test their luck at various games. Knock bottles over with a ball, win autographed circus posters of the act of your choice. Throw hand axes into chunks of wood, win free popcorn or candied apples. There are no cheerful stuffed toys, no annoying calliope music. One booth in particular stands out from the rest....a booth, the classic mysterious fortune teller style..


Finally entering the Big Top tent, filing in like cattle, people pause to gawk at the thing in the cold iron cage. The cage is only just large enough to house the raving lunatic inside. Frothing at the mouth, squirming and jerking, arms stretching between the bars, reaching, straining to grab a hold of a chunk of flesh. He would eat you alive if not for that cage. His skin is deformed, scarred, horribly disfigured. He lets out horrid moaning sounds that meld into a somber duet with the pipe organ music coming from inside. You might even find yourself pushing past the crowd to get into the main portion of the tent.


You find your seat on the uncomfortable wooden bleachers. You catch a glimpse of an old pipe organ, immaculately polished and even though it could use a paint job, it pours out amazing and eerie music that remains in minor tones and almost seems like the whole circus area should be haunted with spirits of acts that perhaps have already seen their final curtain call. Directly ahead is the stage and the ring, centered in front of the bleachers. Occasionally a performer will stroll through the crowd, some juggling, some offering to paint your face like the ringmaster's, some swallowing burning steel rods of flame and then breathing it back out. It's done over the audiences head giving the illusion that if something goes wrong it could easily kill or maim an innocent bystander.


The perceptive will notice someone slinking through the shadows and maneuvering among the wires and 2x4 beams some sixty feet over head.With a sudden, mechanical clang, the lanterns go out and everyone is drenched in darkness amid surprised gasps. Just as the crowd begins to whisper, wondering if something's gone wrong...




A single lantern flutters to life, focused on a small entrance to one side of the stage. The flaps are parted and a menagerie of freaks walks through. A parade of oddities. An incredibly beautiful naked woman with glowing white flesh,( long curly red hair covering the essentials) is seated upon the bare back of a huge black horse with curved ebony horns. Jealousy sparks through the crowd; the women, jealous of her beauty, the men, jealous of the horse. Next, a black and gold painted female clown in a skin tight body suit backflips onto the stage. Up above trapeeze artists slither down from brightly colored ropes, another thin man bent over backwards at an impossible angle walks onstage on all fours. A demon in a red suit walks onstage, muscles bulging, three giggling girls in skimpy outfits perched on it's shoulders. Delighted and excited gasps echo around you as the performers file out. A black haired and white faced young magician walks around offering the children in the front row tricks of illusion and slight of hand. A booming voice heard from somewhere... but where? The more perceptive will realize it comes form overhead somewhere.. in the shadows...


"ARGH!!! Welcome Lads and lasses to the Duskmoon Fair!" Fireworks shoot from his hands to boom and snap under the tent's canopy in a show of silver and red sparks. He descends a rope of his own to land on the platform in the middle of the entertainment that stills goes on. "I'll be yer host this evenin,' Jeriko Arcady..." more cheers and clapping fom the audience.




With long and nimble fingers, Jeriko draws six balls from his pocket, juggling them without even having to concentrate. They begin to glow and burn with an eerie green flame and the crowd coos in delight. The Ringmaster puts both hands up, yet the balls still spin in circles around his face and chest. His finger is brought to his lips in a shushing motion, there is a some quick movement of his hand, an explosion of sulfourous green smoke, and the flaming balls and all the performers disappear. The smoke clears and the Ringmaster remains standing there, hat tilted forward, both hands positioned on the cane. From behind him, two hands reach around to trace his chest. That slow, villainous grin spreads across his lips, and he grabs the hand, to spin her out into a set of pirouettes. She bows low and with a swish of her coat and hair to the crowd and grins back at The Ringmaster. She is a mere 5'6 and 110 pounds of pure grace and beauty. Masses of curling hair falls to her tiny waist in perfect ringlets. Delicate features of angelic proportions crease into a wicked grin. Wearing a corset and a lacey gown of black and purple, she is an image of femininty and style. She steps free of him to turn and pull a long sword from her throat... slowly and deliberately watching the crowd as they gasp. Then another... and another as she hands them to the Ringmaster with a wicked little smile and sparkling eyes. 


"ARGH! ladies and gents.... The Lady of Swords! Miss Beija Savage!" In a flash of fire and smoke, the Ringmaster disappeared and gave Beija enough time to strip off the long coat she wore to toss it to the side and expose the costume beneath. She was a decent juggler and pulled three daggers from a pocket to juggle with one hand while with the other she pulled a large sword from her throat yet again. The crowd ooh'd and ahh'd as she cleared her throat and smirked. She wagged one crooked finger to a man in the front row of bleachers, beckoning him forward. She laid the daggers and the sword in his hands, and then drew another sword out.... this one was thin and easily manuevered as she tossed it up and caught it between her teeth. The show is ended when she threw the two swords back up and let them slide down her throat again, where they came from. The man who had been holding her weapons shuddered. God she was something. The Ringmaster steps onto the stage again, wearing a longer version of his ringmaster's coat, this one black. He envelopes the young woman in this coat in a romantic and tender motion. And she simply disappears.


And so it went on, one act after another. Eventually all of the performers came out into the ring at the very end, to give a deep bow before the black curtain fell for the final time, that evening...


Of course Elsie stayed for awhile after the performances were over, to meet the other performers, and to talk more with the Ringmaster who so intrigued her. He looped his arm around her shoulder and told her to stick around, because the fun wasn't over....

A couple of weeks came and went, and most nights were spent at the carnival. Elsie and Jeriko had been spending a fair amount of time together, recently. But the time had come for the fair to move on.
And then the unimaginable happened..

It was late, the sun had been set for hours now, the people of the city had begun to sleep and the creatures of the night had nearly all risen.The distant lights of the fair reflected softly off the over cast sky and many in the city may know that tonight was the final showing of the Duskmoon Fair before the group left to the next city. However, the somber waiting lights of the show and the silence of the night were abruptly broken by a echoing BOOM accompanied by a sudden burst of light. Moments went by and the soft glow of the lights were replaced by an eerie red orange light show and a thick dark rolling smoke. It didn't take long for the sounds of sirens to fill the night as emergency alarms began to blare, and the fire bridage rushed toward the travelling fair.

Elsie was in the little makeshift campsite that she called home, for now. Curled up beneath the tarp canopy she had strung between a couple of trees. Suddenly, the night sky was lit up by the shattering explosion. She jolted awake and sat up quickly. Seeing the reddish glow of fire illuminating the sky where she knew the fair was at, filled her veins with ice. Then she was up and running. Sirens swelled in the distance, as men on horseback went whizzing by on the nearby road. Elsie's feet flew over the damp earth as she rushed towards the carnival grounds.

When Elsie got to the fair, she saw see the fire wagons surrounding the blaze in the "backyard", which was the private area occupied by the performers. The tents were fine....nothing happened to the big top....the blast happened in the circle of wagons where they slept and kept their supplies. Howard's wagon was blown to smithereens.... but it was in close proximity to Jerikos', which had rolled several dozen yards away. No one in the company knew what happened. Howard would be fine- he was sitting off to the side beneath some trees, in shock but apparently alright.

Elsie raced into the camp, making her way to the line of wagons.. her eyes widened in horror at Howards wagon.. and then she made her way towards Jeriko's. It burned...the trailer broke off the back, and it burned. Beija screamed in absolute horror while Dizco held her back. The girl fell to her knees, screaming with outstretched arms...she'd just left him, just trimmed his facial hair not ten minutes ago... he was still in there..

Elsie circled around quickly, trying not to panic. Searching for an open area that was not currently on fire. She'd attempt to kick through the door, a window, whatever.. But everything was on fire...the wagon was completely engulfed... one of the men from the fire brigade gently blocked her way. "Miss, stay back please..." The heat was incredible. She circled again.. every second that ticked by, made it more difficult for her to focus. There was no time for panic now, no time for emotion. Her eyes searched, looking for an opening.. a way to see inside, at least. The brigade had three hoses aimed at the wagon, furiously pumping water from the fire wagon into the blaze. They were told there might still be someone inside...but it was evident that if there was someone inside, there's no way in hell they were still alive... It's clear now that either Jeriko is dead or not in his wagon.

Elsie chewed anxiously at her lip.. her eyes darting over towards Dizco and Beija. Then she started off towards the horse pen, to check there. The horses had all run off in fright. Leopold had already checked the grounds for Jeriko, and now they're all waiting for the blaze to be extinguished, staring in anxious anticipation. "He ain't in there..." Leopold shook his head, almost trying to convince himself...the old man stalked off..

Elsie looked around and saw Anechka, the fortune teller, standing off to herself. Her eyes were closed, and she was whispering under her breath, consulting with the spirits, no doubt. She didn't look as distressed as she would were Jeriko actually dead. Elsie took that as a hopeful sign. Her eyes scanned the treeline. If Jeriko wasn't in the wagon.. maybe he had left the camp. And if so, maybe she would be able to track him. Focusing on the ground, she circled the caravan of wagons, again.. looking for a trail. Soon, she found one. It was a clear trail leading directly away from the grounds, and the faint scent of cherry tobacco, old dust and rain. She moved swiftly, following the signs that someone had passed through that area. He had crisscrossed the field several times. Here and there, she caught sight of bits of charred cloth and hair alongside the trail. He was alive. Injured.. but alive. She picked up the pace, and soon, she could see him not far ahead of her, still running..

Her eyes locked in on him, and she dashed along after.. but stayed back, for now. She tailed him, following to see where he was going, and why. But Jeriko was running. Running blindly, having no idea where he was going. The only thing he knew was fear and fire. He was in full flight mode, having been surrounded by flames, back there. Now he smelled purely of ash and fire. She saw bits of his hair alongside the trail, and it was charred. His clothes were burned to his skin, and bits of his flesh was missing and still smoking. Elsie sped up a bit, moving to run along side of him. She could sense that it was too dangerous to try and stop him, until he calmed down. So she let him run.. keeping near, but not too close. Eventually, they made it to the base of the mountains. Jeriko fell to his hands and knees in the dust and sagebrush. She could see his injuries a little better now that he was still. Only singed clumps of hair remained, and the scarf tied around his head was mostly gone, except for a scrap or two burned into the flesh. The black Ringmaster's coat tails were burned and the velvet was singed into the flesh of his arms. He fell to one side, shaking. It was amazing that he wasn't dead. But it was evident that he was very, very close. Rolling onto his back, he threw his arm up to shield himself from the blaring moonlight, wincing and closing his eyes against it. He managed to crawl to a nearby tree, out of the moonlight, which seemed to bother him with it's brightness.

Elsie waited a moment longer, letting herself by seen by him.. drawing a bit nearer. When it was evident that he was not going to attack, or take off running again, she finally moved to his side. Still trying to keep calm, but anxious. Jeriko was more or less alright, but his company needed him. She wanted to make sure he got back to them as soon as possible. Not saying a word, she opened up her pack and fished out three silver flasks. They were healing potions she had managed to lift from the pocket of a thug in the woods, not long ago. She kept them for dire emergencies. And this, without a doubt, qualified. She watched Jeriko cautiously as she opened one, holding it near him.

Jeriko weakly raised his head. His one good eye was glazed over, shriveled, even. Unfocused and unseeing. Burned, perhaps. His long, blind fingers, he reached for the flask. He knew it was her, somehow. His fingers were blackened, his palms scorched. He drank the potion down greedily. As he drank, Elsie opened the second flask, and then the third.. handing each of them over to him. She still didn't speak. This wasn't a time for words. She just watched him drink, keeping her eyes and ears alert to the night around them.

Jeriko drank down all three flasks that were offered to him, and leaned back against the tree, closing his eyes. The glass one was missing entirely, just an empty socket of dark flesh behind the lid. Every movement hurt. After a long, long time, he asked what happened.

Elsie frowned, her voice soft. "I was waiting to ask you the same thing.. I saw the explosion.. the Backyard is burning.. I saw Beija, Leopold and Dizco, they're fine.. I think everyone, is." She tilted her head to him. "You should get back, though.. your company is worried."

Jeriko ignored the comment. "Howard.." He growled. His fists curled and uncurled.

Elsie eyed him. "What about Howard?"

"He blew shit up." Jeriko spoke slowly. Pained. Even speaking hurt him. The potions had been enough to stabilize him, but they were not nearly powerful enough to fix most of his injuries.

Elsie stood. "Do you want me to go get them?"

Jeriko rolled onto his side, again. "Howard was working on a new trick.. everyone else is fine, you said?"

She began to piece it together. Howard's new trick had something to do with explosives.

Elsie nodded. "I saw Beija and Leopold with my own eyes.. I think everyone else was at the tavern, tonight.. and I didn't see anyone else hurt.. but they are beside themselves with worry.. they thought you were in your wagon, still. We should go back.."

Jeriko shook his head. "No...not yet..." He held breath in his lungs...he was too mad to go back.. who knew what would happen when he saw Howard next, it was no secret, but it was whispered Jeriko wasn't exactly sane. He needed time now, to sort things out in his mind, and to heal. His entire life was in that wagon. Years of traveling, that wagon was his home. It was where he returned to every night. Years of memories and pictures, collections of costumes and masks and old playbills, it was all gone now.

Elsie slowly nodded, her eyes still on him. She studied his injuries.. wishing she had more potions. Knowing that what she offered wasn't a drop in the bucket to what he needed. She was also uneasy. The Carnival was situated at the outskirts of bandit territory, and the two of them were deep in the heart of it, now. Not to mention any creatures that might be lurking around. It wasn't that safe, out in the fields. Jeriko and his Duskmoon Fair had a rocky truce with the area bandits.. for the most part. But they still had strict rules about which territories people could and could not enter.

"Well, if you won't go back to the fair, we should at least find someplace else.. it isn't safe here."

Jeriko nodded. "I just need time to think.. to plan." They were supposed to be moving on the night after tomorrow. This meant that they weren't going anywhere. He was stuck here, and it was a dangerous thing for a drifter to be trapped or stuck anywhere.

"Can I hide you, for now? I know a place.. I can come back later with more potions, if I can find any. You need to heal more. It's too dangerous for you to stay like this.."

Jeriko nodded weakly. He only wanted to sleep.

Elsie moved closer to him, gingerly helping him to his feet. "I know a place nearby, if you can make it. It's an abandoned cottage I use sometimes when the weather is bad.. it's not far from here.." Slowly and painfully, they began to make their way towards the shack in the distance. She led him to a dark, abandoned looking house. Windows boarded up, lawn overgrown, paint peeling. The place looked like hell. They entered through a back door that led into the kitchen. It was dark in there, no lights.. the place seemed empty. In the kitchen, there was dirt and grime caked into the floors and walls, The whole place smelled musty. Elsie moved to the middle of the kitchen, opening a trap door in the floor, and helped him down the ladder into a dirt cellar. She helped him down carefully, then jumped down behind him. The room was mostly bare. A dirty cot stood in the corner, unused. A wooden chest. On a crate stood a small lantern, which she lit.

She then turned to him, slipping her blade into a pocket in his shirt.. or what was left of it. She'd be damned if she was going to leave him like this, and unarmed, too. "Anything else, before I go? A message for your company? Anything at all?"

"Don't tell them anything...not yet... I don't want them to know where I am... and if you tell them that I'm alright, but won't tell them where I am, that would put you in danger... so tell them nothing yet..." His logic was twisted...but it worked. Even like this, it was hard to ignore his charm and the fact that he was expressing concern for her. And maybe he didn't want them to see him like this.

Elsie nodded. She had already considered telling them behind his back. But she knew perfectly well what would happen. They'd tear her to pieces, skin her alive, burn her at the stake. Anything to get his location from her. She'd to the same, if she was in their position. So she promised him.

With reluctance, she left him there and disappeared back up the ladder. It was hard to leave him behind. But she had no choice- she needed to find supplies. Food, water.. he needed clothing. And she had to find some more potions for him, if it killed her.