Off to the side of the main thoroughfare is a large area with dozens of small tables set up with ample space between them. Upon the tables lie various knives and carving tools, all set in neat rows on each of the four sides. To the left of this area is a small section that has been fenced in by a white, ankle-high picket fence with hundreds of pumpkins of all shapes, colors, and sizes within. Opposite of this pumpkin patch has a long wooden table set up that runs the length of the central seating area. Along the back, with corn fields off in the distance, a small stage with a podium has been set up with a large banner above everything proclaiming to one and all that this section of the celebration has been set aside for the “Spooky Pumpkin Carving Contest!”

Walking back and forth on the stage, paper megaphone in-hand, is a tall, gangly man wearing a gaudy purple and green suit with white makeup on his face… and an almost manic smile. He is loudly doing his utmost to gain the attention of anyone that passes by without actually stepping off of the stage itself - almost as if he is incapable of doing so.

“Come one, come all! Come over and give your best shot at carving the most spooktacular pumpkin that Revaliir has ever seen!” he cries out while gesturing grandly to passersby. “Tis the season to celebrate! And what better way to celebrate than picking up a knife and carving designs into something firm, round, and fleshy…?!” He laughs loudly as his eyes flash dangerously and his grin widens slightly. “I do mean the pumpkins, of course.”

The man leans forward so that his torso is hanging over the edge of the stage and gestures with his free hand towards the pumpkin patch. “All you have to do is pick out your victim, take it to one of the provided tables, and mutilate it to your heart’s content.” Another maniacal chuckle spills forth from his lips as he stands up straight and waggles a finger. “But we can’t just have you hack away without meaning, no, no! Unfortunately, this contest has rules,” the man’s disgust with such an idea is plain to see, “and the rules must be followed,” he grumbles just loudly enough to carry through his megaphone. “That being said, those rules are quite simple!” he exclaims, once more sounding excited.

“Your victim’s new decorative carving must fit with the theme of ‘Celebrating Revaliir!’ So be sure you choose your design carefully! After all,” he lowers his pitch and tone slightly, “we wouldn’t want to anger the gods or anything.” The man begins to tap one foot against the stage and rub his chin with his free hand as he continues. “You can use any means at your disposal to carve your victim to pieces, but do be careful with them! There’s only so many to go around for everyone, after all! That being said, if you do break your victim too badly, you are each allowed one extra victim to play with!”

The man then walks to the side of the stage closest to the long table and raises his voice as he gestures grandly towards it. “Once you’ve decided that your victim is as pretty as a peach and ready to be judged, you can just bring it over to our magnificent Judging Table and set it down anywhere!” The man then lowers his arm as his face shifts from ‘insane bubbly’ to ‘dangerous evil.’ “Be warned, however, that while magic is perfectly acceptable to use on your victims for the purposes of mutilating them… it is not acceptable for magic to be used for presentation purposes,” the man warns lowly. “Any active or passive magic matching your magical signature that is found on a victim is grounds for your immediate and brutal disqualification! And I do hope very much that someone gets disqualified…” He trails off while moving both of his feet to the exact edge of the stage - and can seemingly move them no further beyond… for now.

The man then perks back up and walks back to center stage while reaching behind his back and twirling out a large carving knife. “Oh, and speaking of disqualification, allow me to introduce you all to the lovely individuals responsible for deciding which of your victims is the most fetching!” The man then spins in place, swiping the knife through the air around him… which seemingly tears through the very fabric of space behind him on the stage to reveal a trio of - literally - faceless figures sitting at a small table with cups in front of each of them. Each of the three is a different size, but they all share several features between them. None of them has a discernable feature or orifice anywhere on their head, their genders are impossible to tell from their bodies alone, and their clothing are all matching shirts and slacks of some odd, grey fabric.

“Ladies and gentlebeings! I introduce to you our judges for the day: Eenie, Meenie, and Mineie!” the man proclaims loudly with a flourishing bow. “After the evening meal has been cleared away from the main fairgrounds, these three will then carefully grade each victim on a list of criteria.” The man then made an exaggerated motion to cup his ear with his knife-wielding hand, the knife brushing through his wild green hair. “What’s that, you ask? Criteria?” He smiles widely. “I’m so glad you asked!”

The man motions once again towards the pumpkin patch. “Each of your victims will be judged on how relevant their new decorations are to the theme of ‘Celebrating Revaliir,’ the originality of the design you chose, how aesthetically pleasing the design is, and how much detail you put into the design,” he explains plainly, with almost no emotion in his tone and a blank, emotionless expression. With the seemingly ‘boring’ part of the rules out of the way, the man’s insane smile returns. “The designers of the top three scoring victims will each win the fabulous prize of lucrative amounts of silver! The third place winner will receive five hundred silver, second place will get a thousand silver, and our grand prize winner will leave our little contest with a whopping fifteen hundred silver!”

The man then pauses, and after a moment taps the knife lightly against his cheek while supposedly deep in thought. “You know what? Screw it!” he exclaims with a cackle, then turns his attention back towards the main thoroughfare. “It’s a celebration! So why don’t we just sweeten the pot a bit, eh? Every person that submits a valid entry by tonight’s deadline will also get a little something-something to take home with them, regardless of how well their victim does at judging time!” He gives an exaggerated wink to the crowd while poking his knife forward a few times.

He then suddenly spins in place, turning his back to the crowd, and begins to walk toward the table where the judges are seated. He only takes a few steps before stopping in place and perking up a bit, knife pointed straight up into the air as if he just remembered something. “Oh, yes. One last thing…” Suddenly a malevolent aura begins to emanate from the man as he slowly turns to reveal an abnormally giant grin and blackened hollows where his eyes once were. “Only one entry per person.”

Just as abruptly as his horrifying visage appeared, the man’s features returned to normal. “Haaaave fun, now~!”


OOC Rules can be found at: https://revaliir.net/forum/vilpamolan-coast/perditi-cemetery/5088/

"Might as well grab a pumpkin and start carving." He had browsed the other attractions, but this was the only one that had caught his eye. The rest either were too unpleasant or weren't his style. But carving, crafting something–that he could do. Raizel took a very large white pumpkin as his sculpting canvas. While not the conventional color, the paler flesh would better accentuate the details of what he planned to make. Even if he didn't win, at least he could showcase his skills to any potential customers looking for someone in his line of work. The larger the pumpkin, the deeper and larger the ridges. This would normally give carvers a challenge in cutting pieces away cleanly, but the artificer had already worked this into his design. The stem was dry, woody, and coarse. For a few moments Raizel weighed his options on whether to cut it off or to leave it in but decided on the latter. Were they being timed on their performance? He didn't remember.

The stem would act as the reference point from which all other forms and structures would be based around. And it was a good thing he had chosen to leave it in, as it would hold a bit of the ‘ceiling’. Unlike other pieces of produce, pumpkins only have a small area of flesh to carve. The center is hollow, holding the stringy mass of fibers and seeds that account for a good portion of the gourd’s weight. Even as the pumpkin grows larger, there is a ratio of thickness which remains generally constant with the increase in size. So hypothetically, the bigger the pumpkin, the more material you had to work with. With a careful hand, Raizel began to make pencil outlines of what he intended to carve into the white fleshy layer once he had scraped off the hard, waxy skin. With a blade, he cut lightly to mark the patterns, then began to use coarse sand to slough off the waterproof skin. He could have used a knife to peel, but Raizel wasn’t going to waste any of the flesh if he could help it. The sculpture would be sturdier this way. Now that there was less resistance to his knife, he started to carve.

What was Revaliir? Revaliir was a world, but also many people. The first was Reverie, the Celestial whose body became the very earth itself. Then came her children and grandchildren: Parvpora—the smaller of the sister moons, and Onnen—the first World Tree. From Onnen and Mercury came forth the countless races of the land, sky, and sea. This was the vision he chose for his piece. It would be a sculpture that embodied everything Revaliir was, is, and will be. Encircling the circumference of the pumpkin was a depiction of the First Mother, Reverie. Designed after the statue he had seen in Zets’Ki’s cathedral, her arms were carved as if they were embracing something where the pumpkin’s cleaned cavity was. Above her circling arms were the dense boughs of a tree, symbolizing Onnen. It was Onnen’s roots that held the world together before the lands started to drift apart. In the space below Reverie’s arms, he slowly carved out individual figures. Winged angels, infernal fiends, elves, orcs, animals, and even humans filled up the remaining empty space until nothing was left.

Brushing away the shower of shredded pumpkin bits, he added some final touches before presenting his piece to the judging panel. “The details may be hard to see at a distance,” he explained. “All of these figures represent Revaliir in some shape or form. The most prominent ones are those who hold great importance in the world’s folklore. The first and foremost is none other than the Celestial mother Reverie…”

The cold air of Venti soared as Ciara stepped up towards the carving contest. The beautiful orange gourds caught her attention and drew her near. How many years had it been since she left the Feeorin forest? Time always seemed to fly away. It was already Venti when she swore it had just turned to Ignius. She scoured the selections of pumpkins. Too fat, too tall, too small. None of them seemed right. Or perhaps she was letting her somber mood get the best of her. She plucked a medium-sized pumpkin and found a place among the other contestants. Balancing the pumpkin in one palm, she gazed at it for minutes. How was such a small vegetable going to represent an entire world? She wracked her brain for some sort of creative drive. There were a lot of things she could do. There were the stars, the sun, the moons, and a thousand other things that were apart of it all.

The pumpkin fell back on the table as she slumped down in her chair. Her gaze wandered to the other contestants. They were filled with creative ideas and had smiles on their faces. One of them caught her attention. A little girl, barely over the age of ten, sharing her pumpkin with her parents. The design was terrible, but the family was happy. Maybe the competition didn’t matter? After all, there was no point in a contest without its contestants. The thought struck her like lightning as the realization slowly dawned on her. Picking up her tools, a newfound burst of creativity energized her mind. The fae pressed her pencil on the tough skin and began to create a masterpiece. She started with the image of an elderly lady holding a beautiful bright flower in her hands and continued onto a young boy with tears in his eyes. A goblin with stolen goods, a couple holding each other in their arms, a hero with a sword, a villain slain, a greedy merchant, a man with a mug of alcohol, and so many others. There were the tall and small, happy and sad, the loved and the grieving, and so many more. She included as many races as she could fit and tried to demonstrate the ups and downs of life through the expressions of people in the crowd.

Her eyes filled with nostalgia. Each one of these people represented someone she’d met in her travels. The center of the pumpkin was still blank. She filled it with the outline of a person and drew a heart in the center of that person’s chest. The outline represented people of all ages, time, race, gender, and situation. Her heart and soul flew as she worked through each tiny detail. Ciara carefully cut the top of the pumpkin and scraped out the stringy innards. Using a knife, she started sculpting the images into the vegetable. Each person was given special care and attention. Sweat dripped from her forehead but her passion lingered. Finally, she finished her artwork. The pumpkin displayed groups of people all with a different emotion and expression.

This was what Revaliir was all about! The magic, landscape, moons, or even history didn’t make this place so wonderful. The people were the heart of Revaliir, they were the center of it all. Without them, this place would just be a dull land, offering nothing to the universe. Ciara placed a small candle to light up the inside of the pumpkin then place the lid as a final part. She beamed at her creation and placed it with the other contestant pumpkins. Whether she won or not was irrelevant. It was the act of creation that gave her such bliss.

“This pumpkin represents people, in all their happiness and hardships.” Ciara explained, “Everything that a person can be, represented on a pumpkin.”

She had to hold in a snicker at the idea. All of revaliir, on a single vegetable. How amazing that was.