Missing Sequences

Wednesday, 5 March 2025

Even More Season's Beatings (Session 288)

SESSION 288: Ascending Mount Strumpet (Season’s Beatings Pt. 2)

Hot on the trail of Orcus-Claws and his malevolent crueltide elves.

"we will shoot yer eyes out"

Day 247 Continued (Newville): They did not make haste to Lucinda’s cottage. First it as time to spread aid to the broken folk of Newville. Once done the thirty steps were taken to the mayor’s now hovel of a domicile.

Its door lies in a nearby snowbank. Wisps of white snow blow across the threshold and into the house itself. Inside, a large empty spot below a hole in the ceiling is where a cooking stove undoubtedly once stood. The timbers of a bedframe lie in the opposite corner. All the furniture in the room appears to have been disassembled down to its base parts. Even the nails that once held up the family portraits were gone. She invited them in as she sadly attempted to make home more welcoming than condemnable. Over a cold meal she explained the happenings of the previous evening. “a strange, demonic goblinoid creature came storming down from Mount Strumpet wearing a red suit and leading a small army of equally strange goblins clad in pointed shoes and wearing bell-topped caps. We News of Newville never saw them coming as we gathered to sing around the Festival Tree, we were uplifted in the singular rapture of holiday caroling. Orcus’ Claws announced his presence just before departing and it was then that we were torn from their reverie and realized that the strange creatures that served him (Crueltide elves) had stolen every piece of iron they could get their hands on. They had pried nails from walls, took hinges off doors, took plates from wagon axles, shoes off of horses, everything. With the village in shambles, I fear we won’t survive the winter, or worse that Orcus’ Claws will return and attack now that the village is completely defenseless”. She took a breath before continuing with more...

Bimbles jumped in, already at capacity for sob stories, “YAWN. Wow look at how late it is and we have been marching through the snow all day. I’m sure Green-Girl will have us chasing after that villain Orcus-Claws first thing in the morning. You wouldn’t want us to underperform now would you?”.

Lucinda being a somewhat naive little person did not get the underlying cynicism, “OH you are right Mr. Cleric. You should be at your best. Please make yourselves at home on my floor, it is all that I have left to offer”.

And so the night passed and with the coming of dawn they set out. Just as Bimbles rued.

Day 248 (Newvilleàthe Lair): With a crummy map in hand the group went north following the game trail into the pine forest for Orcus Claw’s lair atop Mount Strumpet. “Just follow the game path through the forest to the base of the mountain. May Festivus watch over you”, Lucinda pointed north beyond the Festivus tree to the ominous pine forest. Forward they as the skies darkened and the winds picked up. It was only a couple of miles of travel but it would not come easy as the weather arose and there were other things in this forest.

First they came across what appeared to be eight snowmen trail markers. They were such but had another overwhelming purpose – Kill Kill Kill. The snowmen animated and attacked swinging scratchy claws and stabbing with their detachable carrot noses. Two charged while the other six just disappeared into the snow only to reappear behind the hobos to backstab with frozen carrots. Once they ran out of tricks it was just a matter of pummeling the snowmen back into their constituent frosted flakes.

After a breather they pressed on to the next ordeal.

Winter Bones.

Over the howls of the growing blizzard and despite the muffling effect created by a blanket of snow, a merry singing rises on the wind. Much to your surprise, a black-clad skeletal scarecrow leaps from behind a tree. Inhumanly lean with overly long limbs, it stood more than seven feet tall and offered a grotesque grin to the hobos. Bones came on friendly and gregarious but noticeably giving birth to the clerics and paladin – “yeech”.

Bones asked a ceaseless stream of questions about winter, the holiday season, and the tiniest details regarding both. It is as if he had never encountered much of much before in his existence. He was a time sponge and would not stop his endlessly enthusiastic interrogation. Our gang had reached their limit and just began marching away no more questions would be answered. With an innocent mercilessness he began to dance around the hobos, “You will now be dancing fools just like Winter Bones”. This was old magic. The kind that is leftover from eons past and having great potency. To be taken by the dance was an excruciating affair as bodies bent in bone cracking configurations. Bones was fast and erratic. Many the action was disrupted and sword came up out of reach. However, eventually Winter Bones’s own incessance would lead to his disruption. Bones disintegrated into a sparkling and laughing cloud that was picked up by the wind and dispersed amongst the snow covered pines. For those that were dancing their suffering did not end with Bones’s abolition. These old magics refused to be dispelled and lingered until the Fool’s Dance had completed.

After a bunch of healing and such they marched on.

Finally they came to the base of Mount Strumpet. Conveniently, the trail continued up the mountain and it had been cleared of snow recently. The lair would be found at the end of the path. To reach the end and the penultimate chapter of this Winter adventure they would be visited by three ambushes this afternoon.

The first was now. Jumping from the snowbank a host of crueltide elves with wicked contraptions.

The second occurred along a treacherous portion of narrow path. Blightskrieg the demonic reindeer flew from a hidden position breathing fire and attempting to gore grumpy Bimbles to death.

The third was as they approached the entrance of Orcus Claw’s workshop. More rotten crueltide elves triggered an avalanche and then sent crossbow wielding wind-up tin men at our band, many of whom were buried waste deep in snow, rock and ice. The clerics taught them a lesson as they combined forces and unleashed a horde of snakes. Why didn’t they immediately freeze, don’t ask me I can only fight so many fights unlike our unstoppable horde.

Into the lair.

A large fissure split open after ten feet into a massive cavern that goes on far beyond the light of the many lanterns placed at very points around the room. Seemingly endless piles of various metal objects lie against the eastern and western walls, these mounds taller than an ogre. Nails, screws, heads for axes, picks, hammers, hinges, and wheel axles — all the resources stolen from the kindly people of Newville. Half a dozen Crueltide elves were working through the mounds in pairs across the room, one manning a wheelbarrow while the second shovels metal objects. They glowered and growled at the hobos. The barrow tenders reach into their wheelbarrows while their partners raise their surprisingly sharp shovels like broad-bladed spears. Goblins dressed like goofballs, even with strange contraptions, would not stop our seasoned murderers. Cleaning their blades the hobos prepared to take the singular passage leading deeper into Claw’s workshop.

The CBB-Team: Carla, Bimbles, Bunny, Saffron, Charles, Dolec, Nara & Lester

ROLECALL

Carla the Green High Priestess of TMB (C10) 356271 xp +10% <400001> CRT 1d12/III

Scars: permanent loss left index finger and scarring on arm

Bimbles the High Priest of GSS (C10) 320506 xp +5% <400001> CRT 1d12/III

+2 save to poison and internal body things; Double eat (gotta feed my baybay)

Bunny the Thief! (T10) 312116 xp <400001> +10% CRT 1d24/II

Light wound: permanent loss of pinky finger, off hand

The Henchmen

Saffron the Mad Fairy Queen of Ribbits (FY7) 198080 xp <200001> CRT 1d10/III

Moderate wound: Scar on abdomen

Lasting injury: -1 STR, mashed guts

Nara the Nearly Naked Purple Swami Girl (PS7) 112609 xp +5% <125000> CRT 1d16/II

Wraith Drained: -1 CON

Charles in Charge the Myrmidon (F6) 86207 <120000> +10% CRT 1d20/IV

Franz the Grave Return (Lawful; XXXX) Sword

Critical Wound: Punctured lung (-2 CON)

Mostly DEAD. (-1 CON)

Dolec Da the Hero (F7) 71196 xp +10% <120000> CRT 1d20/IV

Missing five teeth

Lester Flanders the Guardian of Oceana (P6) 48456 xp <95000> +5% CRT 1d16/IV

RESERVES

Elapsed Campaign Time

(702 b) days at beginning of session (Dreamlands)

688a (Bunny Group Newville)

701d (Ding-We Gang Liwil)

Join us for session Two-Hundred-and-Eighty-Nine when we ask the questions:

Why has Christmas dragged on sooo long?

What do these cruel contraptions do?

Do ya think anyone heard the avalanche?

Tale of the Tape

Nothing outside the norm here, fight fight fight.

KILLS

Frosted Snowmen (8)

Winter Bones

Blightskreig the Demonic Reindeer

Crueltide Elves (19)

Windup Toy Soldiers (2)

LOOT

Crueltide Contraptions assortment (12)

24 gp

Sunday, 23 February 2025

Hexcrawl to Murder (Session 287)

SESSION 287: Three Days Ago in a Town Named Liwil (super-side Session I)

Looking for snakey chick(s) leads to more trouble.

Weird, that's actually Cobra-Man... Oh well, the bots won't complain.

Day 244 (Liwil): “Yes it's done! Three for three”, Peg-Leg was feeling good with a complete success with this second round of potion brewing. High fives went around - Peg-leg, Chung-Li and the Stirgi alchemist. Ding-We always a mercurial bastard decided to only un-stone Rhags and Bob, “I got a plan. We need to keep one of these in reserve. The Captain can rest a bit longer”. The plan was to collect Biff and Steve and then head to the hex southeast of Liwil and address the probable medusa presence. Winter gear was acquired and the following morning they would set out. Chung-Li piped up as this was all going down, “Sir, I believe it is time for me to finish rebuilding my spell book. As you can understand.. I feel incomplete without it”. The wizard recognized that even henchman, even fruity elves, have their limits and provided no opposition, “Fill your boots…man..woman..elf…whatever you are”.

Day 245 (Liwil - Stinkville): The weather was crisp and the snow was approaching two feet but their sturdy Basilisk Ponies made little complaint. They arrived at the stronghold before dark. Biff was elated to see BoB again and nearly squeezed the life out of her. Only his anger at the wizard for smearing her with the restorative rather than him broke Biff’s deathcrush of his mute companion. Steve broke the tension with a call to repast. Ding-We revealing a keg of ale really helped things along with his plan to get back to killing and looting. Every one of our hobos can get behind murder and loot.

Day 246 (Stinkville – Forester camp 15.24): It seems that our wizard, at some point in time when he was not brewing potions, coordinated the establishment of a forestry camp in 15.24. They would use the joint as an overnight before pressing on.

Day 247 (Forester Camp – base camp 15.24): This morning the gang of five set out for the planned base camp location. It took a couple of hours and then they spent the rest of the day setting up and plotting their incursion into the uncleared hex (15.23) that laired a medusa, or two perhaps.

Day 248 thru 253 (base camp ßà15.23:0503/0504/0603/0703/0604/0704/0805/0705/0806/0605/0403/0404/0303): The snow was deep in the wilds and would slow down Ding-We’s new plan of hex-clearing their way to the target. They all knew that chopping would come sooner or later so even Biff let the wizard’s screwing about pass without comment. Beyond the first day when a trapped zombie was discovered in a cleft all was quiet, just boring tracks. On the fourth day a deep freeze rolled in, making things even more pleasant. Aside from some slightly old boar and human tracks the hex-clearing was completely uneventful. They realized that camp would be moved as their exploration days were exceeding ten hours.

Day 254 (move base camp 15.24 to 14.23): Camp was packed and moved to the Liwil hex. It was still damn cold.

Day 255 thru 257 (base camp ßà15.23:0205/0206/0306/0304/0405/0305): They began exploring the western portion of the hex. On the second day the stone garden sub-hex was discovered. It was more of a snowman garden during the winter season. The next day they worked around the sub-hex hoping to sight the lair without actually entering the area proper. That night there was a lunar eclipse and Ding-We was convinced that it was a sign to commence the assault.

Day 258 (base camp ßà15.23): Lunar eclipse. “A wonderful portent for our endeavours today”, exclaimed Ding-We. “Sure bud”, was Rhags retort. Biff snorted in agreement and BoB lobbed a snowball over the oblivious wizard. They set out for the stone garden. About halfway there a trio of hunting owlbears were encountered. The beasts were on a trail and did not notice the murder squad. This would expedite a murderous outcome for the beasts. But! Not before they put up a good fight. Rhags was bowled over and pretty brutally mauled by one. The outcome was a tactical retreat to camp. The eclipse was not so super great after all.

Day 259 (base camp ßà15.23:0406 the Lair): Once more they make a run at the medusa lair. This time they get there with the help of the wizard’s onyx wolf statue. The magical beast scouted the sub-hex and ascertained the actual location of the well-hidden lair. They closed in on the obscured lair entrance – a dark hole descending into the earth normally obscured by scrub brush now a little more obvious. ‘Human’ tracks were noted, moving to and fro from the hole.

They moved to a hill overlooking the cave mouth. After hunkering down Rhags was sent down to make some noise and attract attention. He wandered about for an hour trying his best to be a lure. It didn’t work out according to plan. A woman in winter cloths, with bow in hand, appeared a 100’ away coming along the gulley between hills. She immediately loosed an arrow at the dwarf before taking cover behind a snowy-stone-man. The rest of the gang launched a sneak attack on the woman pummeling her with magics and missiles. Checking out the body it was confirmed that she was a medusa. Her hood made handling the head much easier for Steve to handle after removing it from the body. Ding-We produced an alchemical jar for Steve to stuff the head into and then it was stowed away into a conveniently present bag of holding.

It was time to enter the cavern. It rolled downwards n a noticeable angle ending 30’ later at a damaged stone door. Defaced to be precise. The door was slightly ajar revealing an antechamber. Rhags noted the quality construction, “If you ask me this was built by Dwarves”. There was a corridor going south or a wide stairwell descending deeper to the north. They took the corridor.

Passing a locked stone door they continued and took a turn. Leading to a circular chamber with at least three statues in it. Centrally there was a large bronze statue of a demonic four-armed entity with snakes for legs. Around it on the floor were numerous pelts and beyond that were two more demonic statues of stone. They did not like the look of this chamber and they could only see about half of it. They fell back and continued down the original corridor. It lead to another door. This time unlocked. Inside was a small bedchamber well beyond disrepair. A quick search did discover a silver symbol that looked like it could be on the unholy side of the ledger. They pressed on and discovered a walkthrough library full of ancient clay tablets. A scroll was found and a legible tablet. Rhags identified the language on the tablets to be old dwarven which he could not decipher. It was packed away and they decided to fall back to the first locked door.

It took some bashing to open, which echoed through the dead halls. Inside was a locked iron chest. Steve grabbed it they were about to leave when they were blasted by a lightning bolt. It looked like gargoyles. Biff blasted back with his gem of brightness. Blinding one of the two revealed monsters. Then Ding-We hit them with a freezing blast. The gargoyles did not like the situation and retreated to the circular chamber. The hobos gave chase.

Back into the circular chamber. The gargoyles were gone, escaped through a northern passage. Now getting a look at the whole room there was five pedestals circling the demon statue all now absent of toppers. Ding-We didn’t like the looks of this and ordered a retreat.

Returning to the surface they encountered another medusa returning to her lair. The got lucky and had the jump. Ding-We decided not to take any risks and zapped her with a lightning bolt. The body hit the ground, well scorched and unsalvageable. They double timed back to camp.

Day 260 (Return to Liwil): The snow has returned and our D-Team has failed to defeat the medusa lair. Ding-We ordered a fallback to Liwil, “I think we need Mason. All sorts of trouble in that hole”.

The D-Team: Ding-We, Rhagnar, Steve, Biff & BoB

ROLECALL

Hobo Steve the Lord (F9) 326064 xp +5% <360,001> CRT 1d24/V

Brain Damaged: reduced mental capacity (tough night on the town)

Rahgnar the Dwarven Superhero (D8) 233287 xp <280001> CRT 1d20/IV

Serious wound: permanent loss of an eye (-1 to missile fire)

Critical Wound: disembowelled less able to process poison (-1 penalty)

Missing thirteen teeth

Ding-We the Peg-Legged Wizard (W10) 515312 xp +10% <620001> CRT 1d10/I

Critical Wound: Left leg obliterated, runs at ½ rate (peg required)

The Henchmen

Biff Bartley the Half-Orc Blackguard (HO7) 102620 <120000> +5% CRT 1d12/II

‘BOB’ the Deadly Shade (N7) 64817 <90000> +5% CRT 1d16/II

RESERVES

Elapsed Campaign Time

(702 b) days at beginning of session

688a (from Session 264) (also applies to recuperation)

685d (Gang of Five)

Join us for session Two-Hundred-and-Eighty-Eight when we could ask the questions:

Did we kick off the rust?

That is two dead medusa is that the lot of them?

Who put gargoyles in the mix?

Could there be anything else?

What’s up with the demonic snake-legs guy statue?

Tale of the Tape

Chung Li needs 12 weeks (74 days) and a stack of coin to rewrite his lost spell book.

Elapsed: 58 days (from A-Team calendar) -back to work-for two days rested for one after brewing.

Potion Brewing: Completed three days ago

KILLS

Zombie

Owlbears (3)

Raisa

Milda

LOOT

Silver unholy symbol 80 gp

Scroll ward against elements

Locked Iron Chest

Tuesday, 11 February 2025

...And Now for Something Completely Seasonally Murderous (Session 286)

SESSION 286: What’s the News in Newville? (Season’s Beatings Pt. 1)

Winter comes out swinging and we have to go for a hike.

Continued from Session 276

Day 236 – 240 (Helix): They awoke to a fresh blanket of snow and Mother Nature was far from done. The heavy snow would last for five days before respite. The treasure hunters were a little disappointed but saner folk would have hunkered down for the season. So the gang more or less spent the time lounging about the Brazen Strumpet as Jack Frost raged outside. Bollo the barkeeper was happy to have them as the weather had exaggerated the new quieter norm caused by the defeat of Barrowmaze. On the eve of the third day Muzzah rolled in demanding drink and a service from our mob.

“You! Favour mooches keep my glass full and heed my words. This early storm has created a headache that you are going to resolve. You are at least partially to blame anyhow. With the coming of Winter Solstice I send supplies to my friends in Newville, a small mostly halfling village residing under the shadow of Mount Strumpet about four days to the north of us. I can see Billworth asleep in the corner so the Silver Standard Merchant Caravan are out to lunch and you are Osen’s only occupants of the merc guild barracks…So you will conduct the delivery and check-in errand and you will depart as soon as this storm breaks. Here take this cookie compass. The single chip always points at Newville. No I am not going to field any questions.Now get me another drink”.

The sagely wizard did not leave an opening for negotiation so our mooks just rolled with it, “Sure Muzzah whatever you need” came from our usually looking for something for nothing green cleric.

“Another drink and a bowl of Bollo’s Winter gruel”, was Muzzuh’s retort.

The thick blanket of snow now exceeded two feet in depth and was still going strong. They would be walking to their destination. Bunny an Carla had ideas about strange implements to ease the travel. How these thoughts came to be we cannot say but they earned more than a few scoffs and gaffahs.

Day 241 – 246 (Helix-Wilds): ..And on the sixth day the weather grabbed a break. The clouds were no longer dumping just a constant light snow. The storm however would return. Hopefully not before the gang had completed their errand for Muzzah. The sage had a stack of goods outside his tower with a note to deliver and not bother him. Bunny opened up the portable hole and Charles, Dolec and Lester loaded in the assortment of barrels of wine, cheese wheels and salted meats. The trek northish began.

This could have taken four days but distractions arose with greater frequency the deeper into the pine wilds.

They made good time for the first three days and then the distractions started kicking into gear.

Late morning of the third day a giant owl quietly watched the hobos pass by. It wasn’t until Saff absent mindedly flew past the strigiform turned her head and freaked out was the giant revealed. Saff divebombed into the folds of Bunny’s heavy winter hood. The owl quietly watched amused, curious or something else it was hard to tell. Carla called forth the ability to speak with animals and began hooting at the raptor. It seemed that the owl was trying to get some sleep after a successful evening hunt but our travellers were nothing but a source of racket. The cleric apologized and then was able to pull some information from the bird before its curiosity held back its rest. A hunting party of hyena-men were moving west across the forest, a cave bear was oddly active and no giants had been seen so far this season. After this the topic of conversation was not enough to stave off sleep. The owl hacked up a large pellet of fur and bone and closed its eyes. They pressed on.

On the fourth day the team intersected the gnoll tracks now partially filled with snow. A prolonged period of deliberation occurred. For some reason Bunny seemed to be channelling Ding-We and saying very Hop-A-Long type things like “We must follow the tracks and eradicate the gnolls” even if tracking was not in their wheelhouse and that they were in the middle of running an errand for an irritable sage. Carla did her best to channel their lost friend Lenardo and use the power of ‘Science!’ to assess the freshness of the tracks. She concluded that the tracks were one to three days old. We would not find out, “Maybe we should do the task at hand before trekking across the wilds” was Bimbles input. He was not keen on a wild gnoll chase through the vast wilds especially in-between major Winter storms.

On the morn of the fifth they were ambushed by the cave bear. It was sleeping under a snow drift and was awoken by plodding malcontents. It was hungry, probably always hungry, and brought Lester to the ground nastily opening his neck. Blood began spraying all over the once lovely pure white snow. Saff charmed the beast but could not communicate with it so they agreed to be friends. The bear went straight back to trying to eat a hobo. The fight culminated with a plan to skin the fifteen foot carcass. This wasted the rest of the day. That evening they narrowly avoided having their camp trampled by a herd of mammoths on the long haul away from undesirables to the west. Yup, those damn gnolls again.

Now on to the sixth day, the journey stretched even further in duration. Again the hobos were surprised. This time four humans with very cat-like characteristics sorta just appeared from behind some trees as the mob worked their way through a denser mixed stand of trees. “Mmmm

what do have here my siblings?” came from the female of the group.

“Waaaaaghhh.”, was Bimbles response.

“Little poppets why aren’t you behind closed doors being warmed by the fire. It winter when the wild things roam”. The gang began spilling their guts to these four with feline characteristics. The four struggled with their innate curiosity and present disinterest in our goof troop. It did not take long for the folk to bore of the gabba-gabba. “If you stay in the woods today, you’re sure of a big surprise”, they began to fall back into the forest. Their voices was all that remained for a few more moments, “If you stay in the woods today, you’d better be in disguise….”.

“They were an odd lot. Wonder what they meant”, came from Charles. We would find out shortly.

The snow picked up and they trudged on with Bimbles making regular complaint about the cold be bad for his skin.

It was not long after lunch when they heard the first howl and then response. Wolves and it sounded like they had encircled us and were kind enough to be tightening the loop and keeping us abreast of it. Then things went quiet. In like the whole forest. Just the sound of frozen branches creaking with the building winds. “No wolf would be foolish enough to attack a band such Metal Warriors as ourselves”, confidently stated Lester. “Ugh. That is the kinda talk that gets us into trouble new guy” was Dolec’s point was he adjusted his hand on the hilt of his blade.

The wolves pondered this for a few minutes before launching their ambush.

Giant canines with stunning white and icy blue coats that perfectly blended into the frozen landscape. Six winter wolves, far more formidable and wicked than a pack of wolves four times their number. Leaping forward they blasted the hobos with freezing breath before they simply began tearing into our mooks with wicked bone crushing jaws.

Bimbles screamed out “Don’t wreck those pelts they are worth stacks of gold! Flats and blunt!”. The blade wielders were bummed by this but the prospect of riches always gets our team on target. The fight was extended in duration due to caution and this resulted in more spilt hobo juice than necessary. One of the wolves escaped and then the rest of the day was spent harvesting three pelts. The trip would once more be delayed. Camp was set.

Even in the cold there are creatures with keen senses able to zero in on a kill from leagues away. This evening it was a giant wolverine.

Wow. What a foul temperament. It came in full of murder. Blasting into the camp messing up everything and then it hit Dolec with a spray of disgusting musk. The fighter was blinded, retching and his clothing was disintegrating. Even though giant and possessed with wickedness the mustelid could not hold against a hobo huddle.

The camp was in ruins and had a god-awful stink to it, so did Dolec. It was the dead of night moving camp any more than fifty or so feet would be a major headache and potentially attract more unwanted attention. Dolec was stripped of most of his (stinking) armour and sent over there as the rest of the gang spent the remainder of the evening over here on the other side of the fire.

Day 247 (Wilds - Newville): The camp stunk and Dolec stank. With a new day the group were not feeling well rested (again). The clouds were getting real thick and real black the storm break would be ending soon. Bunny figured an hour or so after lunch they could get to this Newville if there were no more distractions. She was correct. The great Mount Strumpet stood before them wrapped in Winter’s great black clouds. They came over a rolling hill to see the forested valley under the shadow of Mount Strumpet. A large clearing where the village of Newville sits surrounded by endless banks of twinkling white snow in the light of the winter afternoon. The icy tranquility of what would otherwise be a breathtaking view is marred by thin tendrils of smoke rising from various cottages and buildings that are visible even from this distance. Quickening their pace down the last ridge and into the valley of the village proper- destruction has been visited upon this idyllic rural community. Several corpses lie in bloodstained snowbanks, and the wails of villagers wracked with pain and sorrow break even the snow-muffled silence of winter. Something far worse than a bad fruitcake has been visited upon this winter

wonderland … Before them the eastern fields, a thick blanket of snow pockmarked by blood and dirt covers this long, low valley. Making their way toward the village, they observed small huts that were undoubtedly homes to the farmers who tend these fields in the warm season. Most now lie in ruin. Collapsed houses and crumbled stables are all that remain of most of these simple and welcoming homes. Several humans and halflings are sullenly and futilely dragging the corpses of their fellow villagers from the snow or attempting to repair their broken homes. “To the village don’t look around there is a giant tree. That is where we wanna be! We can’t help the dead”, was Bimbles the Not so Benevolent’s direction. Strangely, there was no dispute. I guess the cold had frozen all their hearts. Into the village.

A massive pine tree covered in candles of bright wax, wrapped in strings of nuts, candied fruits, and lovingly polished apples sits in the center of the tiny village of Newville. It is a forty-foot testament to unwavering holiday cheer crowned with a twinkling silver star. Several News mill about the tree, halfheartedly singing cheerful songs that sound all the more mournful for their attempts. Among the crowd of a dozen or so, one New stood out: A halfling woman with an exceedingly round face, wild golden curls,

and eyes as bright and shining as the winter sky. She trundled up, wiping the tears from her eyes and took a moment to obviously compose herself before putting on a bright and innocent smile. “Lucinda New, Mayor of Newville! Welcome to our village — and merry Wintermass!” holding out a sausage-fingered hand in greeting.

Carla explained that they had been sent by Muzzah to deliver goods, for the solstice celebration and do a wellness check. The consensus on the latter task was – not so good. Lucinda New explained that while the village sang around the Wintermass tree the previous evening a wicked creature known as Orcus-Claws, and his Crueltide Elves visited a tragedy upon their joyous little village. She directed them to come to her house so she could tell the tale over dinner without causing further distress for the locals moping about.

They were about to move along when a small halfling boy on tiny crutches approached, holding out one hand covered in a frayed glove. “Please spare a copper or two good travelers. What with it being Winter Festival and all” came from the wee cripple as he coughed pathetically.

“Gross. Dolec give it a coin!”, Bimbles is nothing but consistent.

“What? I haven’t been paid in months ya lump!”, Dolec was more than a little irritated from the journey for stinking reasons.

Nara stepped up with a couple of gold coins. Where they came from, only Carla’s pouch will ever know. “Oh thank-you. A merry Wintermass to you all”, he then tipped his ragged cap and hobbled away with a weak smile on his face. Lucinda explained that the boy is “Small Sam.” Without shelter or resources and given the current developments in Newville, the boy likely will die of his crippling illness.

“Quick get us to dinner before more villagers come a limping”, Bimbles putting an arm around Lucinda and pushing her towards where he thought her home may be.