Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » Trick or Treat: Scholar's Wagon

The holiday had been heard of in passing, a tradition caught wind of during one of their journeys out to some town or another. With no research to occupy their evenings yet, they decided to set up the wagon - at least for that night only - to be suitably fitting. It was a fickle and whimsical indulgence but most of all, learning.

Turnips were carved and set to either side of the door, and the tiefling likely had been spotted around the town during the markets picking up sweet treats, from merchants and bakers alike. Using a cantrip, then lit a series of glass beads on a string to illuminate where they were staying just within the town's walls, alongside other carriage-travellers and merchants as part of caravan trains.

Ready for those visiting for treats!

As the sky darkened and the twinkling of string lights began to stand out in the gloom of the evening, a presence slipped silent through the woods. The figure was elongated, the limbs and the fingers long and freakishly thin, the head bulbous. It moved with a smoothness that indicated that it was gliding, though the hem of its black robe whispered through the leaf cover on the ground. What was such a monstrosity doing here? Other merchants slammed shut their caravan windows as it slid past. It kept moving, until it was standing in front of Medlorath's wagon.

Trick or treat, it seems to "say" - everyone in its vicinity will have the distinct impression they did hear someone say it, coupled with a certainty that they did not actually hear anything, and that the "voice" was not even real enough to have distinguishable qualities like tone or gender hints.

As a magic user, and as a creature of magic himself, the disguised hybrid dragon sensed the being's approach. Although what exactly he sensed was unknown, as foreign as the monstrosity's signature of presence was. Already alert by value of that alone, they had sat up and just been about to open the door to investigate, when the neutral 'voice' sounded and also seemed to not.

Blinking a few times, trying to convince themselves that they had indeed registered the statement, the 'tiefling' opened the door, and presented the plate of sweet pastries. Both 'brows raised at the sight of the figure. Well, that was different. But it had asked politely and, for all of the fact it appeared certainly far from what standards of normal he had encountered in his travels, he was not going to be rude.

"Treat. I hope these are flavourful." They didn't know what such a being ate and so, hoping that the food was enjoyable to at least taste seemed to be a good option to go for!

The long fingers wriggle in the air above the plate of pastries, before it selects a twisted roll topped with white icing. It holds the confection between thumb and forefinger, dangling from its long nails. Maybe it doesn't really like cinnamon whorls, or maybe it objects to getting itself sticky. Then again, the creature's skin is visibly moist. It might be self-cleaning if any stickiness dared try get on its hands.

That is the wiser choice.

The tiefling was fascinated, as much as they too were not immune to the deterring effect of the creature's presence. As much as the dragon ordinarily found themselves able to withstand a lot when it came to other beings simply due to what they were, this being was so alien as to offer no point of reference.

When the treat was selected, they nodded approvingly at the choice, the golden trinkets secured to their horns glinting in the magical light as they did so. At the 'voice', one eyebrow raised in curiousity. Were they going to ask? They bit their lower lip for a moment, warring internally, before deciding to. Fortune favours the nosy.

"Is trick something you have done when asked or has everyone been smart enough to pick 'treat'?"

What counted as a trick?!

The traditional question is a threat. One does not select trick. They refuse treat. Then, by process of elimination... Is it not respectful to honor the custom's of another's land when within it? The lidless eyes just stare, stare, as this pronouncement is rendered, the sweet still dangling from the claw of a hand.

Kitsunebi materialized midair and landed in a flurry of sparkling leaves and a swirl of shimmering ribbons of light.
"Hello," The witch said politely, looking with interest at the treats and the tiefling before her. "Trick or Treat?" She knew she wasn't a kid, but, this was the most magical holiday she loved to participate in.
Given the chance, she was absolutely trying those sponge cakes before leaving.
Her costume this time was not simply her usual gear of hat, cloak, and robelike garb; this time she wore gilded gold hat, gilded white cloak, and glittering soft gold tunic drapery. Her attire was simply and joyfully decked out in different kind of lilies, but the flowers were not gilded. She thought that seemed.... unnecessary.

The Illithid moves as a new trick or treater arrives. It doesn't turn away, simply reverses, hovering backward, and is abruptly gone -- no flurry of shadows, no gust of wind. There is simply nothing there any longer, as questionable a memory as its not-voice was.

Medlo had just decided on how to phrase their response to 'trick', when another individual suddenly appeared in a flurry of magical effects. The strange, eerie reversal of the illithid had them staring but, any questions that the strange being's presence left lingering could be considered later. The new arrival earning focus.

"I offer treats!" The plate of delicious cake and pastry samples was offered forward, and the opportunity was taken for the mismatched eyes of the 'tiefling' to admire the costume. "Interesting choice of garmentry." Their tone one of approval, of course. Gold was always admired.

Kitsunebi curtseyed and took a pastry.
"Thank you, and yours as well. Blessings be upon you. This looks delicious, by the way. I can hardly wait to eat it!" she waved her pastry delicately. "By the way, before I leave... do you find everything... as it ought to be? I can add a blessing spell to some incense, if you like, and burn it, or... place wards. I mean no offense, of course, but there is a strange air about the place."
She waved her hand vaguely, like brushing away mist or cobwebs, and got a faraway look in her eyes.
"Never mind, I think it's gone. But if you do find that something is off, I can give you my calling card. It doesn't, well, it doesn't summon me automatically without intermittent consent, of course. But it can summon me, here you go." The witch winked, and offered a smooth, heavy paper card. It sparkled slightly, opulent in its simplicity. "A magic trick for a magical treat. Have a good evening!"