Exploring the Lost Realm

Jarlath had no real memory of how he had stumbled upon this faire, but frankly he didn't care. A faire meant many distracted lythians running around getting scammed in carnival games probably. He remembered when he was younger he watched several youths waste all their hard earned allowances on a stupid game that rewarded them something worth pennies. One might say that as long as they had fun, that's what mattered, but to him it was stupid and pointless- a waste of money on some trash.

Really, his goal here wasn't to play the games at all, but to conveniently bump into other lythians and "apologise", attempting to swipe something from their pockets with his many hands. It felt good to be built to steal, really. Unfortunately, it seemed like all people had were knick-knacks and fair tickets. Not a gem in sight- not even a single loonole!

He had managed to even take a peek at the contents of one of the stalls, but all he saw there too was fair tickets in the register. It must be the currency here- but... Well, you had to get tickets somewhere right?

Despite his best efforts he couldn't find any exchange stands where all the shimmering loonoles could be awaiting him. He didn't have a bag with him, so he wouldn't be able to carry much, but even a handful can get him some snacks at least.

He sighed to himself as he grabbed another fistful of faire tickets in his hand, turning them over and eyeing them carefully. He lightly stomped his foot on the ground and groaned, before turning to the Nitpicki that was running off already to catch up with their friends.

These things were worthless to him, so there wasn't a point to steal.

"Oi, kid. You dropped your tickets." He called out to them. They stopped and padded their pockets, realising that Jarlath had been right. After a brief exchange the youth had their thirty tickets back and seemed overjoyed.

Truly what an act of kindness, right?

Jarlath weakly laughed to himself as he began moving between the faire stands, not really enjoying being out on the main path of the event. How did he get here, actually?

His questioning was interrupted as he saw a small round... thing. Whizz past his view.

It smelled weirdly sweet. Then another round thing whizzed past him, an air of cheese wafted to his nose. He shook his head and focused on these fast-moving things. Just as a third weird little blob thing whizzed by, he grabbed it out of the air. It felt weird, jelly-like, and was vaguely shaped like an owl. In his confusion the creature simply phased through his hands. As he stared at the small thing floating in front of him, he felt a nudge on his foot. Looking down, there was a large cluster of these collecting around him. Now, normally he would have simply ignored this and flown off, but multiple of these blobs shaped like very-real-looking sawblades suddenly  dashed in his direction. He wasn't stupid- flying when these things were clearly faster than him in the air would result in getting your wings ripped up like a dumbass. Instead, he opted to run in the opposite direction of these things. Quickly. Very quickly.

Within just a few seconds, Jarlath had bounded through the outer rim of the fair and into the woods. Just barely not tripping over logs and stumps, and finding that it had been an increasingly better choice that he hadn’t flown into the air. These woods were becoming thick, almost unnavigable for any flying creature- let alone quickly. You’d need some insane reflexes- and he was lucky that the saw blade blobs did not have that kind of dexterity. He heard a few of them hit a tree with a loud ka-thunk, bringing some relief to him until he made the mistake of looking behind himself.

There were thirty of them.

Why were there thirty of them?

He didn’t know, but there were.

And he was running out of breath. Actually- he realised that running had been a stupid idea. Why did he run into the woods? He would have been safer in the fair, surrounded by people. “Stupid idiot Jarlath”, he thought to himself. At least if they kept chasing him, maybe there would’ve been some bodies to take the hit for him so he could get the hell out of here- However one does that.

He could hear the blades spinning rapidly behind him- cutting through the wind.

Actually… No he couldn’t. He didn’t hear anything behind him. He cautiously stopped and looked behind himself. Nothing was there. He was… safe? Had they all hit trees? Was it over-

A loud snap of a branch startled him into the air, and after a few seconds he realised what had happened. He sighed deeply and put all four hands in his face in exhaustion. He had stepped on a branch, and had startled himself. Today was not a very good day, huh. He looked around himself and wondered where he was.

The forest was riddled with thick fog in every direction, which was frankly just very rude of it. Jarlath wanted to get the hell out of here before those little blob ghost knife saw blade things would find him again. He sighed and looked up, being met with a thick canopy that blocked out most of the night sky- and made flying out of here very tricky. The thorns hidden between the leaves weren’t comforting.
He picked a random direction and began walking, eventually he’d have to either end up outside the woods or back in the carnival, both were good options really. But the walk was long, and tiring, and there was not a single person or even animal in sight. It was unnerving to say the least. He grumbled something to himself, but his attention was quickly drawn to a light source in the distance. Now, normally someone in his situation would see this as their safe haven, but Jarlath was paranoid and wary. He slowly moved from tree to tree, utilising as much cover as he could as he approached the light source. Eventually, he spotted a bonfire- With no one around. Or so he thought.

He stepped into the clearing and eyed around himself, still no one, before gazing at the bonfire. “Yeah, unattended bonfire in a forest, that’s safe.” He commented to himself, eventually grabbing a log and sitting down to rest his weary talons. At least the crackling of the firewood was nice. And not one other sound-
Just as he thought there wouldn’t be anything to disturb him, multiple of the little blob things appeared seemingly out of thin air. He stared for a moment. Then another. And then he let out a loud groan. “FINE! Kill me already then.” He told them. But they simply quietly sat on the other logs and looked at him with expectant eyes. He looked at them in confusion. “Did you guys start this?” He asked, gesturing at the fire. They did their best to nod, which was actually rather cute. Until a saw blade blob showed up. Jarlath jumped up in panic as the thing went ham on the ground in front of him, but when the dust settled he calmed down. In the ground, the word “story” was etched, with an arrow pointed to the fire.
“You want… A campfire story?” He asked, just to be sure.
The blobs eagerly nodded yes.
Jarlath suffered internally. He was chased out of the fair by murder blobs to tell a children’s campfire story to the murder blobs. Actually- If they were murder blobs maybe they would enjoy something more violent. He thought deeply about what anecdote he could tell them. “Alright… I might have something?” He said. The creepy things bounced in excitement.

“Okay! Okay! Settle down then- Tonight, I’ll tell you a story I went through-” He began telling a tale that happened… About two months ago. Graphic descriptions of violence with body acting to boot- Absolute exaggerations of how monstrous his foes were and how skilled he was with a knife. Though, maybe the knife talk wasn’t exaggerated as he skillfully did perform some knife tricks for the little things. He spoke about stealing jewels and setting the bank ablaze- that one was a blatant lie, though he did set a trashcan on fire. Regardless of lies, the bloblets- ghosts? They loved it.  
He stopped his foot hard on the ground. “And then BAM- Blood EVERYWHERE! On the floor! On the wall! On the food! In my MOUTH!” He dramatically spoke. “But I won- and the beast was no more. Of course, I had to quickly escape through the window, but that’s the story of why you don’t cut me in line at the market.” He ended with a grin. The ghosts were pleased, jostling and bouncing about in joy. At least they were happy, huh. “Now, can I go home or something? The fire’s nice and all but I’m starving and that cheesy one over there is starting to look delicious.” He gestured to the cheesy ghost, which playfully hid behind the others.
It was a good evening, at least. He looked above himself and noticed that the clearing had no canopy over it, the moon shining strongly above them. How quaint.

Jarlath looked down when the little blobs simply vibrated and… popped? He blinked at them, a little baffled. Did he uh- Did he just kill ghosts?
That- He wouldn’t get in trouble for that right. There’s no laws about killing the dead right.
While Jarlath was pondering how easily he could get arrested for his crime of murdering several small weird blob things, a voice spoke up behind him, startling him out of his seat and swinging a claw at the stranger behind himself.
Oh.
That’s another ghost.

After the brief introduction with this individual- the “ringleader” apparently, he was finally being led back to the fair. The question rang in his head. “What is something good that’s happened to Lyth since I’ve been gone?”
That was probably the worst question to ask him. He didn’t know- he certainly wasn’t it though.
“Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhh…”, Jarlath said, elongating his apparent lack of knowledge of anything good happening. He scratched his face awkwardly. “I have no idea if I have to be honest.” He admitted.
“Well, something good must’ve happened right? Even small- Or perhaps… Something bad for you that was good for others? I did hear your… Story. I know that you’re not the usual passerby here. Which- by the way- I would appreciate it if you didn’t pickpocket tickets from visitors.”, The Ringleader lightly scolded him, though with no genuine anger. She seemed more amused by his actions rather than upset.

“Ehheh. Yeah don’t worry about it, I don't need tickets. I’m good at winning games.” Jarlath reassured her, chuckling a little. He pondered her question further and suddenly seemed to come to an answer.
“Oh! Well- Bad for me but good for others I guess… My friend Lezzaro got arrested? I think? Either that or he’s dead in a ditch somewhere.” He casually said, as if fondly thinking about his potentially dead friend.
“...And how is that good?” She inquired, a little concerned.
“Oh- yeah uh. You haven’t been around Lyth, sorry. Obviously you don’t know about him.” Jarlath felt a little awkward at forgetting about that. “So basically Lezzaro was responsible for a lot of arson, and robberies, tax evasion, more arson, murder probably…” He began listing off various crimes and offences, until the Ringleader raised her hand to stop him.

“I see- Well… Yes, that is certainly a good thing. I think? I hope that he only got arrested and not killed, I don’t wish death upon anyone… Especially in the way you described-” She spoke, being cut off by Jarlath. “Oh! Don’t worry, that’s how he wanted to go out. He was a strange guy honestly.” He quickly let her know, seeming absolutely unphased by this.
“Well… Regardless, death isn’t good for anyone- But it is good if he was arrested. I’m glad that the realms of Lyth have become a little safer with that.” She concluded, seeming a bit unsure about her words. This visitor was a weird one. “You’re not gonna cause any other trouble… right?” she asked.
Jarlath shrugged. “I’ll try not to.”