The Carnival of Ringmaster Grymm

The carnival appears where yesterday there was only an empty field, its lights a sickly green through the evening mist, a merry-go-round grinding in the silence with no music and no children. It smells of cotton candy, and beneath that, of something rotten. A man with too many gold teeth spreads his arms: everyone wins a prize, but what are you willing to give?

The carnival lives on stolen things: a name, a voice, a year of your life, a happy memory. Every attraction is a trap, every ticket a contract, and Ringmaster Grymm collects souls like raffle stubs behind a smile. The townsfolk who walked in yesterday now work the merry-go-round with glassy eyes.

You work your way through the carnival games, each with a prize that costs more than it seems, rescue the missing villagers from the attractions, and follow the trail to the mirror tent where the carnival's true nature dwells. Along the way you must choose what to wager, for nothing here is won for free.

In the mirror tent waits Ringmaster Grymm, the Soul-Collector, among a thousand splintered reflections in which his gold teeth gleam, each image a soul he won fair and square. The grand prize turns out to be his own place: whoever beats him risks having to inherit the carnival. Break his contract and the carnival dissolves into the mist and the stolen souls return; lose, and tomorrow the carousel turns in the next town, with you as its newest attraction.