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Santa and Baublekin crept toward the lodge, their footsteps muffled by the wind. As they moved, snow began to fall. The gentle storm provided a quiet cover, each flake settling softly on the ground, erasing their footprints and wrapping the world in a fresh white blanket, while the path ahead was barely visible through the haze.

The once joyful beacon of Christmas came into view, dim and silent. Santa felt a shiver run down his spine, causing him to pause in his step. At that moment, he wasn't sure if he was ready to face the grim reality again.

“It’s so quiet,” Baublekin whispered, his voice barely audible above the soft whisper of the falling snow.

Santa nodded; his gaze still locked on the hazy outline of the lodge. "Too quiet," he murmured. The place felt asleep, forced into a hibernation it was never meant to enter. A feeling of purpose welled in his chest. He had returned, and it was up to him—to wake it up.

“Let’s go,” Santa said, his voice steadying as he took a deep breath. He moved forward, the snow crunching softly beneath his feet.

Baublekin followed closely behind, his eyes scanning the familiar surroundings, the nostalgia in his voice clear despite the grim situation. "It's been ages... But aside from the silence, it seems just as I remember it," he remarked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Much has changed. Just wait until you see the workshop.”

Baublekin arched an eyebrow. "What have the young elves been up to?"

Santa chuckled. "Oh, it's all about tech now. Flying gizmos, drones… you name it."

"Drones? Since when did bees help with gift wrapping and toy making?"

Santa let out a hearty laugh, though a pang of guilt tugged at him for how long Baublekin had been out of the loop. "Not those kinds of drones. We’ve got flying gadgets that zip around, helping with many tasks. Technology has come a long way since your time."

Baublekin's eyebrows shot up even higher. "You're pulling my leg!"

Just then, as if on cue, a golden creature zipped into view, hovering in front of them. It was S.E.R.G., its digital form flickering as it scanned them. "Welcome back, Santa, and… scanning archives… Elf identified: Baublekin. Status: deceased, undead, Ghoul," it stated in a matter-of-fact tone.

Baublekin stared at the creature. "Um, hello?"

S.E.R.G. continued, unfazed. "Santa, it seems you've been successful and have gained a few levels. Congratulations on acquiring the reanimation ability. Your success is vital for the next step."

Baublekin, still gaping at the hovering entity, shook his head in disbelief. "Well, I'll be..."

S.E.R.G. flickered slightly as it floated before them. "I've got some important news for you, Santa," it announced. "But first things first. We need to get Twixy back on her feet. The workshop is currently operating at 0% efficiency. Twixy can help get the systems online."

"Good idea," he said. His mind was already set on reviving Twixy first. The tech-savvy elf, who could whip up anything from a toaster to a tablet, was exactly who they needed right now.

"Her knack for tech will get our drones and gadgets back on track," S.E.R.G. added, clearly already calculating their next steps.

"And I've missed her triple-chocolate cookies," Santa chimed in with a small smile, the thought of those treats briefly lightening his mood.

Santa turned to Baublekin and exchanged a determined look. "We need to work quickly," Santa urged, his voice firm. "Mrs. Claus will be back any day now, and there’s so much to set right."

S.E.R.G. beeped thoughtfully. "Santa, might I suggest we gather all the fallen elves and bring them to a safe location for processing? The stables would be the optimal location."

Santa considered the idea for a moment before nodding. "Good plan. We can also keep them out of sight, just in case any of the local children wander by."

Baublekin scoffed. "Back in my day, kids knew better than to come near the lodge on wrapping days. How long until Christmas?"

S.E.R.G. beeped again. "Nine days and counting!"

The realisation hit Santa like a sack of coal. "Only nine days," he muttered. Then, with renewed urgency, he said, "no time to waste. Let’s gather our friends and get started."

"Scanning, beep, beep! This way," S.E.R.G. chirped, guiding Santa and Baublekin through the snow-dusted landscape. They moved carefully, their eyes scanning the ground as S.E.R.G.'s light flickered over a small mound of snow. Santa brushed it away, revealing the tiny figure of an elf, his form hidden beneath a delicate layer of frost.

“It’s Walterfink,” Santa said softly. The elf's hand was still clasped around a brush, frozen mid-stroke as if he had been tending to a reindeer that now stood just as still, its glossy coat reflecting the faint glow of the Northern Lights. “He always took such special care of the reindeer.”

“He looks frozen solid,” said Baublekin.

Santa knelt down, his brow furrowing as he gently lifted Walterfink. The elf felt almost weightless in his hands, like a fragile ornament. "Poor little guy."

Baublekin's expression turned solemn. "He deserved better."

Santa nodded; his heart heavy as he carried the elf toward the stables. "How many more are out here in the open?" he asked.

S.E.R.G. scanned the nearby snowdrifts. “Another two.”

“Lead the way.”

They quickly located the other two elves, Jingle and Tinselbyte, lying hidden beneath the snow. Santa gently placed them beside Walterfink in the stables, each one laid with care. The only sounds were the soft crunch of snow underfoot and the quiet hum of S.E.R.G., guiding them as they repeated the process with the scattered reindeer.

The task was grim, but Santa knew he had no time to reflect on it.

As they stepped into the dining hall, Baublekin’s breath caught in his throat as his eyes took in the heartbreaking scene before them. Elves lay scattered across the room, their once joyful faces now still and lifeless.

Santa’s gaze fell on an elf near the centre of the room, slumped over with a half-eaten cookie still clutched in his hand. Kneeling beside him, Santa gently pried the crumbling treat from the elf's stiff fingers, pausing for a moment before lifting the tiny figure with the same care one might use for a delicate ornament. He sighed deeply, his heart heavy with grief.

Across the room, Baublekin spotted a much smaller pink haired elf near a shelf of books. Her hand was outstretched, reaching for a storybook when her life had suddenly ended. Baublekin, usually quick with a quip, found himself at a loss for words. He knelt beside her, gently lifting her. “Who’s this young one?” he asked softly.

Santa glanced over. “Oh, her? That is Mya,” he replied. “She was always so excited, always lost in some story.”

Baublekin noticed the book still clutched in her hand. He read the title aloud, “The Era of the Marauders?”

Santa nodded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth despite the sadness in his eyes. “She was loopy for all things fantasy,” he said, his voice tinged with affection.

Baublekin gently removed the book from Mya’s grasp, then hefted her small body and carried her outside.

As they transported the fallen elves, Baublekin mumbled, his face etched with concern. "If you were all celebrating," he whispered, "how could it have happened so fast? Poison doesn’t work like that… not all at once."

Santa didn’t respond immediately, the weight of the question pressing down on him. He moved silently through the dining hall, gently cradling each elf as he transferred them to the stables. His mind churned, unease gnawing at him. Baublekin was right—something didn’t add up, but for now, he pushed those thoughts aside and continued the grim task.

As they finished the last round trip, Baublekin noted, "So… No sign of Twixy."

Santa nodded. "She’s probably in her office."

"Office?" Baublekin echoed, clearly puzzled.

Santa gestured down the hall. "This way," he said. The wooden floor creaked under his weight, a comforting, familiar sound in the otherwise silent house. "You haven’t seen the workshop in quite a while," Santa spoke, glancing over his shoulder.

Baublekin nodded, a hint of curiosity sparking in his eyes.

“We had to remodel the house," Santa explained as they walked, "so we can easily move from the main house to the workshop without trudging through the snow every time."

Baublekin’s eyes widened in surprise. "No more snow-filled boots?" he quipped, a grin forming on his face.

Santa chuckled. "Nope, and the workshops had a few upgrades since then.”

As they reached the door at the end of the hall, Santa pushed it open, and the familiar smell of sawdust and gift-wrapping paper greeted them.

The workshop was a seamless blend of tradition and technology. The walls, made of dark wood, radiated the warmth and charm of an old-fashioned workshop. Handcrafted wooden shelves, meticulously organised, held an array of tools, while well-worn workbenches, scarred from years of use, stood sturdy and reliable.

But alongside these classic elements were the unmistakable signs of modern innovation. Sleek, high-tech machinery hummed quietly in the background, their digital displays glowing softly in the dim light. Drones, small, efficient, and precise—hovered in the air.

“I guess S.E.R.G. turned all of them on,” murmured Santa.

Yet, despite the advanced technology, the workshop kept its cozy, magical atmosphere, with twinkling fairy lights strung along the rafters and garlands of holly draped around the windows.

Baublekin's eyes darted around the room, taking in the blend of old and new. "Wow," he whispered, clearly impressed. "I almost don't recognise it… but it still feels like home."

Santa smiled warmly. "That was the idea. Progress is important, but so is keeping the heart of Christmas alive. This place... it’s more than just a workshop. It’s where the magic happens."

Baublekin squinted up at the raised room on the far side of the workshop, his brow furrowed in curiosity. "What's up there?" he asked, pointing to the elevated space with its long glass windows that overlooked the entire area.

Santa followed his gaze. "That’s Twixy’s office," he replied. "If she's anywhere, that's where she’ll be."

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Without hesitation, Santa led the way, his heavy boots thudding softly on the narrow wooden stairs. Each step creaked under his weight. Reaching the top, Santa hesitated for a moment, his hand resting on the doorknob, before pushing the door open.

Twixy lay slumped over her desk. Her small hands were still resting on a half-finished gadget, a delicate circuit board with tiny wires and components, as if she had been in the middle of yet another ingenious creation when the end came.

Santa stepped forward, his enormous frame filling the small office as he approached Twixy’s lifeless body. His hands, so often used to deliver joy and wonder, now trembled slightly as he reached out to touch her. He had already decided that Twixy would be the first to be revived; they needed her skills, her knowledge, her spark.

As he gently lifted Twixy up, S.E.R.G. beeped and zoomed into the office behind them. It hovered closer. “Santa, I’ve completed the examination regarding the cocoa.”

Santa paused, cradling Twixy in his arms. “And?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with the dread of knowing there was more to this tragedy than met the eye.

S.E.R.G. flickered for a moment before responding, “The cocoa was indeed poisoned, intentionally. However, there’s something peculiar about the speed and synchronization of the effects. It’s almost as if the poison was designed to act simultaneously across all the elves, which is highly unusual. Further research is needed to understand the full scope of this.”

Santa’s brow furrowed, a deep sense of unease settling in his gut. “Simultaneous? But how…?”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the answers yet,” S.E.R.G. continued. “But with Twixy’s expertise, we may be able to uncover more. Her knowledge of tech and security could be invaluable in piecing together what happened.”

“Then we waste no more time,” said Santa.

He gently laid Twixy down on the floor of the workshop, carefully clearing the surrounding space. Taking a deep breath, Santa began to summon the Yuletide spirits once more.

"By the frosty winds of the North, and the starlit skies so vast, I summon the Yuletide spirits, echoes of Winter's past..." he uttered, his voice steady and clear.

Baublekin watched intently, his eyes following every movement, as Santa unleashed the spell. As the last words left Santa's lips, ethereal blue tendrils of magic began to weave around Twixy, wrapping her in a shimmering aura.

🗡Ally has come online.

Twixy (Level 1 ghoul) ‘Tinkerer of Tech’ has been revived!

Gasping and coughing, Twixy's eyes shot open. "What in the world of gingerbread?" She sat up in confusion.

S.E.R.G. floated an inch from her face, its digital voice monotone. "Welcome back, Twixy. You've been reanimated using Santa's new player abilities, acquired after a recent... incident."

Twixy blinked a few times up at her own creation. "Reanimated? Like in those zombie flicks? And what incident?"

"You've missed quite a bit," Santa said gently as he quickly filled her in about the whole undead situation, "…we're glad to have you back. We need your help."

“Wow, so all that’s happened. And S.E.R.G.’s been activated.” Without missing a beat, Twixy jumped to her feet. "Well, no time to lose then!" she said. "Let's see what those drones are up to!"

Baublekin chuckled as they watched her bounce in her office chair. "She's taking this undead business rather well!"

Santa shrugged. “Twixy is a no-nonsense kind of elf.”

“True that. Nobody’s got time for that,” she said as her hands moved deftly over the control panels. "Alright, let’s have a look see… Ah, looks like the system was turned to idle mode due to the S.E.R.G. protocol.”

“Is that bad?” asked Santa.

“Nah, I designed it to shut off. That way, there are no dramas in the workshop without Elf eyes on the process. We don’t want a dangerous toy getting auto-wrapped do we?”

Santa shuddered at the thought of a dangerous toy being delivered to an innocent child.

“Gimmie a sec boys,” she said as her fingers clicked and clacked on various buttons and screens flashed to life. “Here we are… manufacturing is now—on! Power has been set to maximum and has been redirected to S.E.R.G.’s processing units!” With those words, the workshop buzzed to life.

“Systems are back online. Let's get these toys rolling out. Christmas waits for no elf, undead or otherwise!"

Santa and Baublekin exchanged a relieved glance. With Twixy's swift grasp of the situation and unparalleled expertise, the hope of saving Christmas seemed plausible.

As Twixy busily tinkered with the buttons, she fired a quick question at Santa, "So, what are the limits of this reanimation spell of yours?"

Santa, watching her work, replied, "Well, I need to level up to revive more elves, and each casting of the spell has a six-hour-long cooldown."

"And what's your current maximum for reanimation?" Twixy asked, her hands never stopping their rapid movements.

"I can reanimate up to three elves at the moment, and I've used two slots—one for you and one for Baublekin," Santa explained.

"Which means we've got to be strategic about who we bring back first," mused Twixy, her brows knitting together. A moment later, her expression shifted to one of sly cunning, a spark of mischief dancing in her eyes.

Twixy stopped her work abruptly and swivelled to face Santa. "Look, if you're aiming to level up, you'll need some solid backup. Especially since you're off to rack up some more EXP. Hey S.E.R.G., where’s a good place for them to level up?” asked Twixy.

“Order received… Scanning area…” S.E.R.G. announced. “Expanding search area, diverting power and processing to analyse data.”

“And?” asked Santa.

S.E.R.G.'s digital form flickered as it hovered between them. "Location found. Santa, I might have found a solution for both your requirements and predicament.”

Santa and Twixy leaned in, intrigued.

S.E.R.G. continued, "During your absence, I conducted an analysis of the cocoa poison. It's a concoction derived from a unique blend of plant-based ingredients – Mistletoe Nectar, Frosted Holly Berries, and Tinsel Pine Sap. These components, on their own are harmless, but with an activating spell, could be lethal to beings imbued with Christmas magic."

Twixy frowned. "That’s nasty.”

“So that’s why it happened so quickly,” said Santa. “It was a spell?”

S.E.R.G. nodded.

“But where would someone even find all of those ingredients?" he asked

"That's the intriguing part," S.E.R.G. replied. "They are rare, but traces of the spell and all three ingredients lead to one location – Cotton Candy Island."

"Cotton Candy Island?" Santa echoed, a flicker of recognition in his eyes.

"Yes," S.E.R.G. confirmed. "And there's more. My scans of the island have detected a significant disturbance. The area seems rife with both potential experience points and clues to the origin of the poison spell. It appears that someone or something on that island is pulling the strings."

Santa's expression hardened. "Then that's where we need to go. Not just for the EXP, but to unravel this mystery and stop whoever is behind this."

Twixy nodded. "It sounds like you’re off to Cotton Candy Island, then. Let's gear you up for a sweet adventure – with a dash of detective work!"

Baublekin pounded his fist into his palm. "Then we have no time to lose! Let’s go!"

“Hold the reindeer!” Twixy added. “Trust me, Cotton Candy Island isn’t your average stroll through the park. You might need a little extra pep in your step.”

"So, you’re saying I’ll need help?" Santa asked.

Twixy leaned in closer, a twinkle in her eye. "And I’ve got the perfect Elf for you! Mya – she's one of my star players in our D&D sessions. If she's even half as resourceful in this system as she is in our campaigns, you're going to want her on your team."

“The pink-haired one?” asked Baublekin. “Isn’t she a little young to go frolicking on an adventure?”

Santa and Twixy shared a chuckle.

“What?”

“Wait till you meet her,” said Santa. “She’s quite the firecracker.”

"Okay then, sounds like a solid plan. When do we leave?" asked Baublekin.

Twixy wagged a finger at the older elf. "Hold on, old-timer. This time, I need you right here. Your crafting skills will be needed here to keep the toys safe until they return. Even if the drones are online, the workshop is still running at the lowest efficiency."

Baublekin's initial spark of adventure dulled slightly, but the thought of diving back into toy crafting ignited a different, yet equally vibrant, kind of excitement. His eyes lit up as he imagined himself amidst gears, paints, and the comforting buzz of the workshop. "Well, if toys need making, consider me your elf!"

Santa mulled over the suggestion, the gears in his mind turning. "Alright, Mya it is. Once the cooldown is over, we'll bring her back and set off for Cotton Candy Island." He couldn't help but smile at the name.

The trio didn't slouch around but went right into their preparations as they waited for the cooldown of the spell. They busied themselves with packing supplies for Santa's upcoming journey. Among the provisions, Twixy and Baublekin included a few of the deceased elves, just in case Santa found an opportunity to revive them during the duration of his quest.

As they gathered the necessary items, Twixy unveiled a surprise – a prototype of a ship she had been working on for years. It bore a striking resemblance to Santa's iconic sleigh but was designed for more ambitious aquatic travel. "This here," Twixy gestured proudly, "is my latest brainchild. Think of it as Santa's sleigh 2.0."

Santa examined the ship, impressed by Twixy's ingenuity. "It looks fantastic, but does it fly?"

"It’s a boat, silly," Twixy said, scratching her head. "I initially designed it to be powered by your natural Christmas magic, but with that gone, we need to tweak it to work with your new… less festive power."

Together, they set to work on the ship, their spirits lifted by the task at hand. The air in the workshop was filled with a sense of purpose and anticipation, each of them contributing their skills to ready Santa for his impending journey to Cotton Candy Island.

Santa, eager to test out his new boat looked closer, inspecting the craft as an info box flashed into existence.

Mount: Santa's Prototype Ship (Epic)

Description:

A state-of-the-art, magical ship designed by the ingenious elf, Twixy. This prototype vessel combines traditional North Pole craftsmanship with advanced magical technology. It's specifically tailored to harness Santa's new revenant magic, providing swift and reliable transportation across icy waters and beyond.

Features:

Revenant Magic Propulsion

Frost Resilience

Compact Design

Cargo Space

Crafted by: Twixy, the tech-savvy elf

As the three busied themselves with preparations, Santa’s gaze flicked to the timer in the corner of his vision. The cooldown for his reanimation spell had finally ended. He took a deep breath, the weight of his next task settling heavily on his shoulders. With a nod to S.E.R.G., he made his way to the stables, where the snow muffled his footsteps.

Inside, the stable was eerily silent, the only sounds the faint creaks of the old wooden beams above. Santa’s eyes fell on Mya, her vibrant pink hair still as bright as ever, even in death. Her small figure lay peacefully on the hay, as if simply asleep.

Santa knelt beside her, his hands trembling slightly as he positioned himself beside her. He closed his eyes for a moment, gathering his resolve, then began the incantation. His voice was steady, each word resonating with ancient magic.

"By the frosty winds of the North, and the starlit skies so vast..."

As he continued, a soft, ethereal glow began to envelop Mya, swirling around her like a gentle breeze. The magic grew stronger, the light intensifying as Santa reached the final words of the spell.

"Return to the realm of the living, under the aurora light..."

With the last word, a surge of energy burst forth, and Mya’s eyes snapped open. She gasped, her eyes wide with astonishment as she bolted upright, her pink hair swaying with the sudden movement.

"Wha—where am I?" Mya stammered, glancing around.

Santa smiled gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're safe now."

🗡Ally has come online.

Mya (Level 1, ghoul) ‘Fangirl of Fantasy’ has been revived!

"Santa?" she murmured; her voice filled with disbelief.

"Good morning, Mya!" Santa greeted her with a warm smile.

Mya's gaze quickly shifted to the fallen elves, still and silent around them. A shiver ran through her, but she found comfort in Santa's reassuring presence. "What's going on?" she asked, her voice a mix of curiosity and concern.

Santa offered her a comforting smile. "It's okay, Mya. They're just... let's say, taking a really long nap. We'll wake them up soon."

At that moment, S.E.R.G. materialised, its golden light blinking reassuringly. Mya's eyes lit up in recognition of her friend's creation. "S.E.R.G.!" she exclaimed. "You're here too?"

S.E.R.G. swiftly briefed her on the situation and their mission and her new status as an undead ally, destined for an adventure on Cotton Candy Island.

Mya's reaction, however, was nothing short of exuberant. "We're going on an adventure? Like in a role-playing game? Oh, my gingerbread stars, this is like stepping into a fantasy novel!" Her enthusiasm was infectious. “Does this mean I can learn magic?”

S.E.R.G. nodded. "Absolutely, Mya. Once you unlock the right abilities, you, too can wield magic as a part of this system."

Mya's eyes then drifted to the impressive hammer by Santa's side, her face lighting up with excitement. "Wow, that's amazing! Hey, do you think I could get a magical wand or something? You know, to add a little extra magic to the mix?" Her voice carried a mischievous tone, and her eyes twinkled with the kind of insight only a seasoned D&D player would possess.

Santa chuckled at her unbridled enthusiasm. "Well, Mya, let's see what Cotton Candy Island has in store for us. Adventure awaits, and who knows? You might just find your magical weapon there."

Mya clapped her hands in excitement, her energy and zest bringing a new light to the sombre stables that were currently preoccupied by a mound of elf bodies.

"There may be a whole host of magical artifacts on Cotton Candy Island," S.E.R.G. replied, "a destination you've been assigned to accompany Santa to."

Mya (Level 1, ghoul) ‘Fangirl of Fantasy’ has joined the party!

Her excitement overflowed as she did a little dance, chattering non-stop about how thrilled she was for the adventure. "Cotton Candy Island! Magic! This is going to be epic!"

S.E.R.G. observed her bubbling enthusiasm and commented to Santa, "This one is undoubtedly the most spirited of the lot. Twixy's choice to accompany you seems... interesting to say the least."

Santa couldn't help but smile at Mya's infectious energy. Her zest and eagerness promised to add a lively dynamic to their journey, and perhaps, that was exactly what they needed as they prepared to face the challenges ahead on Cotton Candy Island.

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