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Even if you don't share this text, however, the format is designed with a purpose: It provides a useful tool for your own role-playing, showing how three prominent members of the Carnival would interact with 'Georges'-newcomers to the circle of freaks.Д¬?n' (nature there no blemith but the mind (none can be calrd deform'd but he unhind: 43jrtue it beauty, but he beauteous evil A're emyty trunht oerflourithd by the devil. After all, the audience for the narrated tour is someone just like the heroes. After the heroes in your campaign have had some experience with the Carnival (perhaps after you've run the adventures in the Appendix), you may decide to let your players read some of this book. The players, however, should be left to figure things out for themselves. In fact, the last page of this book reveals the greatest secret of all: who is the woman who leads the Carnival. While they may lie or mislead, don't despair as the Dungeon Master (DM), you'll be privy to the underlying facts. The narrators hold differing views, and each tells his or her own version of the truth as they liff the curtain on Carnival Secrets. Each chapter has its own narrator: a Carny barker, then a fortuneteller, and finally a scheming professor who manages the Carnival's 'Hall of Horrors.' Their audience is an Outsider-someone who comes to the Carnival seeking refuge. This accessory offers an in-depth look at the Carnival, introduces its people, and exposes a phenomenon called the Twisting, which can change the lives of those who travel with the troupe forever. Freak show or haven, monsters or allies-it's ail a matter of perspective. Often, it comes to the aid of those who simply need to disappear, secreting them away into the Mists. Under the protection of its mistress, Isolde, the Carnival offersrefuge to those rejected by the world. But the Carnival is much more than a simple sideshow, and its performers are more than mere freaks on display. For once in their lives, and for just a copper or two,common folk can stand in the light of day and examine the bogeymen that haunt their nightmares. TOthose who flock to its spectacle, the Carnival is a traveling freak show that offers a 'safe' glimpse of the abnormal and the unnatural. By the next mom, the painted wagons will be rolling into town. Then the handbills appear-erie, teasing flyers, promising that the Carnival is near. Out of the blue, the residents of a village sense that someone, or something, soon will enter their lives. T begins with a tingle of anticipation, a sense of dread or hope, but nothing more. 'It means the Carnival is coming,' he replied. 'What does this mean? she whispered, unable to look away from the handbill, even though she tried. and there was a word, too, but she could not read it. Blasse began to see images in the colored patterns: unnatural beasts, distorted figures, exotic and unearthly delights. The parchment was a handbill decorated with strange, swirling designs.

As she glanced down upon it, she felt a strange attraction, for the paper's magic affected her even more strongly than the man's. yes.' A wave of desire welled up from Blasse's heart, pushing the word to her lips, but before she could speak, a sudden draft rushed through the door, and a square of parchment drifted into the room.

'Do you want to be what I can make you? Do you want to be what we can become together? All you must do is s a y. I can make you the object of all men's desire, and the envy of all women. 'And I can make it so that all the others see your beauty just a s brightly. 'Your beauty blinds me,' he continued, leaning in closer. 'Why is it,' he said softly, 'that when others look at you they do not see what I see? Why do they shun you, when I wish only to become lost in your beauty?' He ran a hand through Blasse's snowy hair his touch was electric, and his voice left her spellbound. The gentleman offered her a hand and helped Blasse to her feet. At once, Blasse felt enrapt the man was simply the most beautiful creature she had ever seen, and meeting his depthless gaze stole her breath away. Then the door creaked open, and Blasse turned to see who had invaded her peace.

She tried to focus on her work in the cellar, but all day, she had suffered from a curious sense of anticipation, a feeling that something momentous was about to occur.

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The scullery maid called Blasse remained indoors where no one could see her, where no one would ridicule her ghostly skin and pinkish eves.

3fooh fhe road less traveled by, 2 n d fhaf has made all fhe difhrencP.

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