Essek had heard of carnivals, had watched them come through Rosohna from a safe distance away. Caravans made of carts would set up, the whispers and skeptical looks of residents – especially of higher Dens - would be shared, and Essek would hear about them between lessons. That was always the extent of his involvement: rumored whispers and gossip. He was too busy with studies, then work, and finally politics to partake.

Until he arrived here and had nothing but time.

He didn’t trust this particular carnival because it was here. Anything that was in this plane seemed poisoned, warped in some way, regardless of what Lucifer promised, but he was interested in what made it beguiling to so many people. Besides, they were important to Mollymauk, and so….

…it would be important to Essek as well.

The long draping of his dark cloak brushed against the ground and he floated his way through the aisles, watching the demons, the people, the…civility of it all. It was impressive given the customary interactions around this time of month, and he was ready to actually turn away before he caught a flash.

Magic? It had been caught out of the corner of his eye, not letting him see enough to make a solid assumption. The instinct in him craved to know exactly what that was. Carrying his open parasol, he drifted his way over to this woman, curious, especially at the markings on her skin.

“If you do that often enough, they will begin to follow you and ask for more,” the drow said, his accent curling softly against his tongue. “They can get a bit demanding in time.”