Fireflies in Farbarin
Rodrig Dirthart, 623 CT | Reading time: 8 minutes
Grey ash staining the blue sky is a common sight in the industrial mountainside city of Farbarin. But on the eve of the 11th, that ash is falling on technicolor canopies beneath the night sky. The air leaves a cool kiss on the skin of the citizens who are out to celebrate.
"The March of the Fireflies" is an annual festival where the night sky lights up across the world, as thousands of lightning bugs migrate back to hotter climes.
Some cultures see this event as an important Spring holiday. Some view it as an auspicious time for family ceremonies. And some believe that fairies and fey beings hide among the fireflies.
This week, Farbarin has been awake beyond its already robust schedule. Fireworks and belligerence have given way to softer touches and natural flairs. Outside every house is a small offering to deities of nature - berries and fruit in cups made of leaves. Families and friends gather inside safely to eat and pray.
There are events in all major districts of the city. The enterprising owner of a popular tavern gathered his competitors to organize an ale festival. The estate of a retired dwarven community leader hosted a neighborhood get-together. But of course, the most anticipated event was always going to be in The Gnade Courtyard, the city's main square.
The city's gnomish planners erected gazebos of wood and bloom in the center of the courtyard. The March of the Fireflies was a festival of magic. Its beauty was best enjoyed in the open. However, it was dangerous to be out in the open. During this festival, fey magic was at its peak. The ethereal borders between our plane of existence and The Fey realm were at their weakest.
Therefore, they enlisted the help of the dwarven temple of Moradin and the gnomish temple of The Wildwanderer. There had been no magical incidents on this day in the history of Farbarin. The city would like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Fey magic was unpredictable, and care was needed.
The clerics of the two temples sanctified the viewing galleries and placed protective wards around them. People attending the event would be able to enjoy the sights safely. Care was needed, and care was taken.
It is this event that our intrepid adventurers, The SoC, chose to attend. Taking one of the five gazebos, they spent the early hours of the evening enjoying themselves. Conversation and light drinks flowed while music played from an unknown source. One could hear murmurs from the other guests in the other viewing galleries. Lights shimmered around the plaza, dancing gently.
Riglade looked around. "Do you notice? The lights around the promenade pulse in time with the music," he said.
Ovannrab jerked up, looking around for a few seconds. A wide smile plastered his face as he boomed, "You're right! Good eye, Rig! How do you figure they did that?"
The normally reserved Amara chimed in with enthusiasm. "It is a form of illusion magic! A bit beyond me, as it looks like it has been programmed to keep in time with the music. It's quite clever really! Maybe one day I'll figure out how to do it myself."
Shubh meanwhile surveyed the scene. "Just normal citizens..." he thought. He noted that one of the clerics of The Wildwanderer temple was in one of the other gazebos, likely keeping an eye out for trouble. He moved his attention to another gallery. Loud laughing and animated body language meant one thing - the famed sailor Archie Aogiri was entertaining a few other citizens. Shubh's nose wrinkled for a moment.
The lights pulsed and danced. The sky turned grey, then dark blue, as the evening continued. The wards around the gazebos were activated, and everybody settled in. A while passed in idle conversation. At one point, the others caught Shubh awkwardly practicing puffing his chest outwards. Rig looked over, noticing Archie holding a room.
Shubh coughed, and cleared his throat. He started talking, and as only he can, steered the conversation towards stealth work. "It's all about body language, you know. Just clothes aren't enough. If you adopt the stance of the person you're imitating, you'll find it easier to stay in disguise. Stressing and tightening your muscles the right way really sell the whole act. Even accents are all about studying the shape and dynamics of the mouth. If you purse your lips, then you..."
The others smiled, and found themselves getting into it. A small game followed, with the four heroes imitating the people they'd met on their journeys, even Riglade. In the middle of the conversation though, he turned his head northwards.
"Do you hear that?"
"Hear what?" asked Ovannrab.
"That rumbling."
The people in the plaza all turned. A dull rumbling, like rolling thunder, grew louder in the distance. It seemed to be emanating from the North district.
As slowly as it grew, the noise subsided. Silence.
For a while, nothing moved, though the soft music continued playing. Slowly, the people went back to their conversations. The lights around the promenade pulsed a little brighter and became more animated.
The gnomish cleric was still turned in that direction, his brow furrowed. Maybe it was because he was occupied, or maybe it was his old age, but he didn't notice Amara exit her gazebo. Before he could stop her, she stepped out of the protective ward and crossed into the nearby one. "Is there something we should be worried about?" she asked.
He was taken aback and lost his words for a second. "You shouldn't cross..." Abandoning the sentence, he looked around to see if anything changed. After a few tense seconds, he released a breath and turned to her. "No, I'm sure it was nothing. The city's forces are on alert tonight anyway, in case something happ..."
He stopped short as one of the dancing lights behind her started moving faster. Too fast.
His eyes followed as the small sphere crossed the ward of one of the other gazebos and disappeared into the back of a human. As it emerged out the man’s front, one of his friends gasped loudly. The ball of light, as if delighted, circled the interior and sped away. Nobody moved for a second.
And then the human screamed in pain. He screamed with all his might. Standing up taut, as if pulled by invisible forces, he froze. His eyes rolled back in his head. His skin grew paler and paler, turning grey. His hair turned a shocking white and fell out in big patches, and his scream turned into a moan.
His muscles unlocked, and he sank a few inches, then lunged at the woman in front of him.
On cue, other lights awakened and moved. Three other people - two more humans and a gnome - fell to the same fate. One in the south transformed with rage and bit into a screaming patron. One in the north was stopped by a quick-to-react Archie.
But Amara saw none of it, because her attention was transfixed on the one who transformed directly in front of her. "Watch out!" The aged cleric pulled her aside before the ghoul could leap at her.
Shaking off her shock, Amara pulled out her longsword and dagger, and readied herself to fight. A short distance away, The SoC did the same.
Ovannrab was the first to react. Pulling out his glaive, the big green-scaled warrior bounded, then jumped, towards the first ghoul. It had attempted to tackle a woman, who shrieked and fell backwards. Before the ghoul could fall on top of her, Ovan landed, crouched into a wide-stance, huffed, and swung his glaive upwards with sharp malice. The ghoul's neck was cut halfway through, and the creature went limp.
But then it blinked, and pushed the blade out of its neck. It let out a baleful moan, and lashed out at Ovan, who barely parried it. Trapping the pole of his glaive in its stretched mouth, he attempted to wrestle it to the ground, and it gouged at his torso. Ovan smelled his own blood. He grunted and levered his glaive. The creature's head, already half-severed, came fully apart and it finally stopped moving underneath a heaving Ovan.
Shubh and Rig couldn't stop the gnomish ghoul from biting his companion, who cried out as a chunk was ripped out of his shoulder. They watched in horror as the wound mutated and the man seized and transformed before them. Both creatures turned on them. Shubh pulled out his daggers and slid in front of Rig, who readied his staff and summoned a flame. Rig's flame then went out as he felt a shock run through his body. He was blindsided by one of the wisps of light.
Two will-o-wisps whizzed around Amara and the ghoul in front of her. The cleric with her attempted to cast a spell and she followed, but the three monsters forced them to dodge. She abandoned the spell and spun in the air, pulling out her longsword. A quick thrust, and she blinded the ghoul. It swiped forward randomly and managed to pull out some of her hair, but she remained focused. With three quick swings, she cut it down to the ground.
The next few minutes went by in a flash. Amara channeled her magic into her lute to scatter wisps with a thunderous chord. Shubh and Ovan, though getting injured, blazed through the transformed fiends, and Rig and the cleric healed grievous wounds when they could. Everybody was caught up in the moment.
It was for Ovan that time slowed. In the heat of battle, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Three figures ran in from the north district up on a dais at the top of the courtyard. The one in front, hooded in a navy travel cloak, was casting a spell. Ovan felt sweat run down the back of his neck. He had only barely managed to turn and call out when a mote of firelight flew in from the dais in his direction and exploded.
When the blast happened, Archie was tussling with the two companions of the mage, and Shubh was dispatching the last of the wisps. The explosion would catch some of the ghouls, but it also caught Amara, Ovan, Rig, and the cleric. A white flash filled their visions.
The world spun around Rig, his ears ringing. He briefly heard another explosion somewhere on the field, but his vision was blurred. He was in a fugue state... he didn't know how much time had passed... and then he felt a tug on his arm. He pressed his tongue to the roof of his mouth and closed his eyes until the world stopped spinning, and saw Amara pulling him up. "Let's go, we have to go."
Rig stood up. All but one of the gazebos were on fire. Archie and the other two hooded figures had disappeared, as had Shubh. The mage on the dais was still casting magic. Another small explosion. Ovan had picked up the cleric and was running into one of the alleys in the opposite direction.
"Get on!" he said, as he started to run down the main thoroughfare. His body folded into the air and unfolded into a horse form. Amara ran up and vaulted onto his back, and they tore down the road. Everyone else in the courtyard was on the ground, likely dying if not already dead.
By this time, alarm bells had begun to ring. Amara faintly saw the figure on the dais become translucent and disappear. The fires in the courtyard still roared, under a shimmering sky. The fireflies were migrating, hundreds of feet up in the air.
She looked ahead. "I hope the other two are okay," as she rode out of the courtyard towards the lower town. "What the hell is happening?"
...Shubh saw his allies get away in two different directions. He melted back into the shadows, and his body began to flicker. His appearance changed and there stood a dwarf. Opening a grate, he escaped into the sewers.
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