Late in the night, the crackling of flame can be heard from the fairgrounds.

Upon investigation, the old Midnight Circus tent has been burned down, only smouldering cinders left.

Eyewitness reports place a pale, dark-haired human man, and shortly after, a Fey-touched girl in a burned dress with white flowers in her hair leaving the scene of the arson.

Each night, a woman's voice rings from the ocean's shore. The song is slow and mournful, carrying over the waves once the sun sets. For anyone curious, they may catch a glimpse of pink skin before she departs home.

∘₊✧── [ ] ──✧₊∘

The tavern stage's been quiet for a few days. Not even a hint of the familiar violin or gentle songs of a lute have been heard at where the bard may be found lurking. Their house candles never flicker with a telling flame, nor do the ones in their cave hidden away from the world.

A cruel stroke of luck and timing considering recent news, or perhaps timed intentionally? Some whisper they saw a trace of teal leaving down the path out of the Spire near the valley as the sun was barely rising; guided by the glow of a small star light hovering around their head. Equipped with nothing but their usual belongings and bag, leaving not even a single written note behind before they departed.

∘₊✧────✧₊∘

OOC

A ... love letter? Has been posted to the notice boards.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

To my dear poet,

Your words have ignited a fire in my heart. Your blessings are immense, and I have painted with your flames, sparking embers of inspiration reminiscent of the fiery heart of a first love, glistening and warm, that organ, my heart, roasts in my chest until the meat is tender, melting away; a luxury taste like no other.

I had not thought of you until now, but I will remember you until the fire burns blue and turns to ash, and until all warmth is swept away from this world. 

Your poetry enthralls me, and I wish for nothing more than to meet you.

 If you enjoy tender, honey-sweet flavors and sweet songbirds, then you will most certainly enjoy my company as much as I have enjoyed your poems.

....With a passionate and /burning/ love, 

Yours forever and truly, 

Your Ever Curious Muse,

- 'Elska'.

A thick column of smoke rose from the canopy of trees along the coast in the residential area between the Valley of Flowers and Spiretown. The fiery  haze consumes the interior of a house next to a large tree with pink leaves. The gateway marked 'Nergui Residence.' The extent of the damage is not quite known yet, the smog too thick to get any details yet. 

A small group rushed two figures covered in ash and soot to the hospital. A Greatling with thick red hair and an Arsa with impressive mustache and sideburns. 

[!]

After a while, Marionette spreads rumors of her trying to gather money to fix Nerguis house. 'DONT TELL ITS SUPPOSE TO BE A SURPRISE' 

Child of Rapture:

 

A love letter finds its writing suddenly changed, as if the letters were re-arranged to create a new letter altogether.

To my dear,

I express deep regrets publicly for my arrogant letter.
I know nothing of the what's at hand and committed a great error.
I ask everyone in this town for a favour from deep within:
please humiliate me, punch me in the stomach, spit on my face!
It's what I deserve for what I did.

In Darkness Falls a Knight...
[TW for Blood | Gore]
@dogshitfartelectric

In the early morning of the dawning day, a message has been left for the spire carved in the blood of an unconscious dark-clad knight. Maliketh's form was dragged through the streets of the spire, left in a trail of oozing blood and dumped unceremoniously amidst the crossroads where the Knight once felled Terryn Bellefuelle... Grounds left unhallowed. 

Crows cry in a spiraling murder above the display and the air is thick in the morning's fog... As the scene unfurls and reveals itself, a message has been left, drawn elegantly in well-trained penmanship, inked in loops of sanguine viscera. 

"Is this the Spire's Finest?"

The man is beaten, battered but unconscious... Reflection still gripped firm within his twitching palm in a vice snare. Soon the Dour Knight would awaken, left to depart in the wake of the scene... But the crows still flock well into the morning, departing and scattering with a cackling laughter upon the wind, dropping in the midst of the man's departure a single withering White Lily and the feather of a corvid. 

OOC:

A pair that was rather unusual was seen departing from the spire. One white-haired, woman wearing a sun hat to keep away the sun. The other, a Rulan Knight. Dressed ready for an adventure.

They seemed to have enough rations for a long period of time, and in the early morning after anything that was needed to be taken care of, they faded into the morning mist.

They would not be seen again for four weeks. Time would pass and carry on. But when they returned, the woman held a box with a faint glow that emitted from the inside of it.

Once they returned to the gates of the spire, they parted ways. He to the Lake behind the fairgrounds and her deeper into the valley of flowers.

A star fallen, a star seen, a wish granted.

BirdmanDean:

In Darkness Falls a Knight...
[TW for Blood | Gore]
@dogshitfartelectric

In the early morning of the dawning day, a message has been left for the spire carved in the blood of an unconscious dark-clad knight. Maliketh's form was dragged through the streets of the spire, left in a trail of oozing blood and dumped unceremoniously amidst the crossroads where the Knight once felled Terryn Bellefuelle... Grounds left unhallowed. 

Crows cry in a spiraling murder above the display and the air is thick in the morning's fog... As the scene unfurls and reveals itself, a message has been left, drawn elegantly in well-trained penmanship, inked in loops of sanguine viscera. 

"Is this the Spire's Finest?"

The man is beaten, battered but unconscious... Reflection still gripped firm within his twitching palm in a vice snare. Soon the Dour Knight would awaken, left to depart in the wake of the scene... But the crows still flock well into the morning, departing and scattering with a cackling laughter upon the wind, dropping in the midst of the man's departure a single withering White Lily and the feather of a corvid. 

OOC:

Spoiler

Related to the Locke & Keye eventline! Note that no follow-up RP is planned as of now for Maliketh's awakening, the site is not available for further investigation at the time: for now, treat it as a passing rumor that has now-since begun to be cleaned! >:] 

A white haired woman would approach the mementos left behind as the scene had started to be cleaned. Rumor having spread like a ember to a flame. The words rang silently in her head, the voice echoed, familiar, but a narrowing of her gaze was all that was offered. She'd pluck the wilted lily, and as she did, life would return to the dying flower. Silent conversations had betwixt her, but she embraced the message, the flower set within the crown that already sprouted from the Fey-Touched's bark. Should a crow linger, they would be met with simply.. contempt.