"Hear ye, hear ye all! Welcome to mine Karneval! I am Vrik, your kin and your keeper, and, for the next all-too-brief age, I shall be your guide through the wonders of our lands. The Myths of Haliar laid bare before you! From the titanic sky-city of Chossala, to the icy reach of Colchi'Cha, you will find no better collection of tales the world over!"

The man stooped, grasping his staff with both hands. With a whistle and a snap, he hurled the stick into the air. It exploded in a shower of sparks, drawing a chorus of awe from the gathered crowd. "From the faraway Tokh Nakjuvat, I present a staff of stardust, for your perusal." Vrik grinned wolfishly at the crowd, his hands held high. "Be still, my friends, for the dust of the starstaves are lethal to those unworthy of their power. Let your eyes wander, but keep your fingers steady!"

With another flourish, Vrik wrapped his cloak about him, a whirlwind of fabric that seemed to tug at reality itself. When the spinning ceased, an trio of flying beasts erupted from the previously Vrik-occupied space. A sharp chill pulsed from the chittering creatures, and they spiraled up into the dark sky. Observe the rare Icefin BoliƩr, came Vrik's voice from the bonfire in the background, from the distant continent of Hrotoka. Nasty things to be sure, but perfectly harmless in open spaces. Take care not to corner them, of course!

The temporary stars of above suddenly surged back together, coalescing in a brilliant flash of light. Vrik stepped out of the flash, staff in hand, and leaned on it toward the audience. "Ah, but we have only just begun, my friends." He winked, waving to the tents nearby. "We have trinkets and artifacts, exotic folk and finds, and perhaps a few things which might only be a fiction. Who's to tell? In a land such as this, the gods themselves may be just around the corner!"