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The two dungeoneers moved cautiously through the tunnel, their senses on high alert as they headed toward a dim light in the distance. The passage stretched on, seemingly endless, with no branching paths or enemies. As they continued, the tunnel gradually began to narrow.
Initially, the passage had been spacious enough for Santa to comfortably swing his arms. But as they ventured deeper, the hardened cookie dough walls seemed to close in around them. Ignoring the growing sense of claustrophobia, Santa pressed on, step after step. His frown deepened as the tunnel narrowed further until his vibrant red suit was scraping against the cookie walls.
"This ain’t no chimney… Bah. If only I still had my Christmas magic," Santa murmured, his voice carrying further than intended.
"So, it's really gone, then? Your magic, I mean," Baublekin asked softly.
Santa let out a regretful sigh. "So much has changed since... well..." He still couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Admitting that all the elves were gone felt too final, too real.
Baublekin, sensing there was more to Santa's situation than met the eye, pressed gently, "Is that why you're here, in this dungeon?"
"That's right," Santa admitted, his grip tightening on his hammer. “I’m here to fix everything.”
"I see,” Baublekin replied, wise enough to know when not to press further. “Well, I’ll help wherever I can.”
Santa smiled, the bristles of his white beard twitching in the dim light. "Thank you, my old friend."
A surge of determination filled Santa's heart as he navigated the increasingly snug tunnel, memories of their elf friends in their unexpected slumber flickering in his mind.
Shaking off the haunting images, he pressed on, the light at the end of the tunnel growing brighter. He had no idea what monstrous challenge awaited them this time. With a final push, they emerged from the tunnel and tumbled into a vast cavern that opened onto a cliff, overlooking a deep, dark chasm.
🎄Santa’s party has reached: The Cookie Dungeon (Level 3)
Instead of a monstrous beast, they were met with a curious sight—a path made of floating cookies suspended above a massive chasm. It was as if they had stepped into a baker's fever dream.
A strange echo rose from the depths below. Peering over the edge for a better view, they spotted thousands of shifting bodies far in the distance.
“Oh my,” Baublekin gasped.
"Well, this is… different," Santa said, his voice echoing in the vast chamber. "Floating cookies above a pit of death.”
“Sounds fun,” Baublekin muttered.
Santa laughed, though there was no humour in it. “The things we must do for Christmas."
Taking a deep, steadying breath, Santa surveyed the floating stepping stones before them with the eye of an experienced cookie connoisseur. Drawing on centuries of expertise with baked goods, he instantly recognised that not all these ‘cookies’ could be trusted.
“So, are we just going to jump across, or…?” Baublekin asked.
Santa shook his head. “It won’t be that easy.”
“I thought as much.”
Santa moved cautiously toward one of the more suspicious-looking cookies, giving it a tentative bop with the head of his hammer. At first, the floating stone held firm, but within seconds, it wobbled, then gave way, revealing its true nature—a cleverly disguised piece of cake.
“Oh, fart biscuits…” Baublekin muttered as the cake crumbled and fell, only to be instantly devoured by the horde below.
Santa and Baublekin exchanged a glance as the sound of gnashing teeth echoed from below.
"Well, that's one way to crumble," Santa remarked, with Baublekin chuckling nervously beside him.
“Yeah, how about we find another path?” Baublekin suggested.
Santa shook his head, studying the miniature map. “No dice. But as I said, I can go ahead alone—I’m not going to force you to follow me.”
“And I told you, I’m seeing this through with you,” Baublekin insisted.
Santa nodded and moved to the next cookie. Noticing a plastic sheen on this one, he gently tapped it with his hammer. It gave a hollow sound before falling—another decoy.
"Looks like this isn't going to be a cakewalk," Baublekin said, scanning the array of deceptive dessert platforms.
One by one, they tested each cookie. Thankfully, Santa’s keen baker’s eye made quick work of the task, spotting the subtle differences in each imposter within seconds. But with the daunting fate that awaited below if they failed, every choice felt far from simple. It was the highest-stakes game of 'Spot the Difference' they’d ever played.
After a few more careful tests, Santa finally found a cookie that looked promising. It had the right amount of crumble and was the perfect golden-brown colour. He sniffed the air and smiled. “Ah, a perfect blend of ingredients.” He gave it a firm tap with his hammer, and when it didn’t budge, he cautiously hopped on top. To his relief, it held firm under his weight. "Now, here’s the real McCoy!"
Baublekin gave him a thumbs up and waited patiently as Santa scanned for the next authentic cookie. Once confident, Santa bounded to the next secure platform. A second later, a grunt from behind confirmed Baublekin had landed safely on his first cookie. Santa turned back to see his elf friend on his hands and knees, staring over the edge and trembling slightly.
“Best not to look down, old boy,” Santa advised, resisting his own urge to glance at the sea of ravenous mouths below.
“That’s easier said than done,” Baublekin groaned, trying to stand on wobbly legs.
Santa nodded and searched for the next available platform. Their progress was agonizingly slow, and just when Santa thought they had made it across, they hit a dead end, forcing them to retrace their steps. “Bah, fruitcake!” he swore.
The challenge was not only harrowing but also deeply frustrating, testing their patience at every turn.
“Nearly there?” Baublekin asked hopefully.
As if in response, the floating cookie platforms suddenly began to move beneath them.
“What?” Santa gasped, nearly dropping his hammer.
Baublekin fell to his knees as his cookie platform soared in the opposite direction. Every baked good shuffled and swirled in a disorienting dance, mixing the real and fake cookies into a confused mess.
“Tinsel tangles,” Santa cursed under his breath as their carefully plotted path was thrown into chaos. His concern quickly turned to alarm when he noticed Baublekin in trouble. The cookie Baublekin was standing on had bumped into another, causing it to tremble.
“Uh oh! Santa! Help!” he cried, struggling to keep his balance.
A cold sweat gripped Santa. Knowing he had to act fast, he scanned the path between them, his mind racing. Baublekin's grip was slipping, his enchanted cookie platform seeming to conspire against him.
With no time to waste, Santa summoned all his strength and leaped from cookie to cookie in a desperate bid to reach his friend. The cookies shifted under his weight, but Santa ignored the instability, his determination unyielding.
He refused to lose another one of his friends… his family.
“Help. I can’t… hold on!” Baublekin's voice trembled.
“Hang on!” Santa called back, pushing himself even harder.
Santa jumped and bounded as fast as he could. Baublekin's grip was slipping quickly. He cried out, his feet kicking into open air. “Santa, I’m slipping!”
Baublekin slid. “Ahhh!”
Santa leaped to the nearest cookie, landing with a thud. “Take my hand!” he shouted, reaching out desperately.
But it was too late. The elf was falling.
“Santa!” Baublekin cried out, floundering as he tumbled.
Santa’s hammer slipped from his grasp, clattering to the side.
“Nooo,” Baublekin shouted. In his plummet, the elf’s tiny hands tried desperately to cling onto anything, but in his panic all he found was the head of the fallen hammer to grasp.
His life flashed before his eyes as he closed them, waiting for the inevitable.
But then, everything froze.
Baublekin looked up, his breath catching.
Around the handle of the hammer was a straining red sleeve, with a long white beard dangling just above. “I gotcha,” Santa breathed heavily, relief flooding his voice.
With a grunt, Santa pulled the hammer up, hoisting his friend to safety. As the cookies finally stopped shifting, Santa let out a long sigh of relief. “Thank Christmas.”
Baublekin collapsed beside him, trying to catch his breath. “Cheers…”
“Don’t mention it,” Santa replied, eyeing the cookies that were still moving. “I’d like to say you’ve got time to recover, but…”
Baublekin groaned and pulled himself up, used to impossible deadlines. “Lead the way, big guy.”
“Okay, let’s go.” Santa resumed leading their precarious journey across the gaping chasm. With each leap, his determination grew, refusing to let the treacherous cookies gain the upper hand. He deftly navigated the shifting platforms, distinguishing real from fake, even as they moved beneath him. With each calculated jump, the two, one after the other inched closer to safety.
“Not long now,” Santa said. “Keep moving. One more…”
At last, they reached the other side, both panting from exertion, their nerves rattled but unharmed. Back on solid ground, Santa briskly brushed crumbs off his suit, casting a wary glance back at the deceptive cookies they’d conquered. "Blasted sugary traps," he muttered under his breath.
The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.
"I'll never be able to look at a cookie the same way again," Baublekin gasped.
Santa gave a wry nod. "Indeed."
Santa glanced at his mini map and saw yet another one-way tunnel ahead. "Let’s move on," he said, a hint of irritation in his voice. The dungeon's repetitive nature was starting to wear on him.
The two left the gnawing sounds of the pit behind and ventured down the new pathway. This one, fortunately, was much shorter, but as it ended, Santa and Baublekin found themselves facing a grand, towering chamber, its sheer size leaving them in awe.
Baublekin let out a low whistle.
“I guess we’re climbing this time,” Santa said.
Above them loomed an imposing wall that stretched high above. The surface was caked with an array of floating cookies, each moving in a unique pattern. Some drifted vertically, while others glided horizontally, creating a complex dance of sweet stepping stones.
“More cookies,” Baublekin sighed.
“Well, it’s not called the Cookie Dungeon for nothing.”
Baublekin shrugged. “When we get out of here, I think I’m going on a diet.”
Santa chuckled.
The spectacle above them was akin to a scene straight out of one of Twixy's cherished video games, brought to life in a grand and fantastical manner.
Santa's beard twitched with a wry smile as he recalled Twixy's passionate explanations about the platforming video games she so loved. "It's all about timing, Santa," she would say, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "And remember, patience is key!" These words echoed in his mind now, serving as a guiding mantra for the task at hand.
Taking a deep breath, Santa carefully studied the movement of the cookies, Baublekin watching intently at his side. Each cookie had its own rhythm, each a unique piece in the intricate puzzle before them. They waited, watched, and when the moment felt right, Santa leapt onto the first cookie. It wobbled under his weight but held firm, providing a solid base for his ascent.
With Twixy's advice in mind, Santa moved with deliberate care, Baublekin following his lead. They timed each jump to match the cookies' movements, leaping from one to the next, sometimes pausing for a cookie to drift closer, other times making bold leaps to catch the ones floating by.
Up and up they climbed, Santa and Baublekin tackling the wall of cookies together. It was a challenge that tested both their mental sharpness and physical dexterity. Each successful step they took was a small triumph, and every pause became a crucial moment to strategize their next move. The process was methodical, a rhythmic pattern of leap, wait, and leap again, executed in tandem.
Finally, with one last, perfectly-timed leap, they reached the top of the wall. Santa stood triumphantly on the highest cookie, Baublekin beside him, both their chests heaving with exertion.
🎄Santa’s party has reached: The Cookie Dungeon (Level 4)
As they caught their breath, Santa and Baublekin took in the view from their lofty perch.
“It looks so much higher from up here,” Baublekin remarked.
Santa nodded, feeling the burn in his legs even through the numbness of his undead form. Twixy's advice about patience and timing had served them well in this whimsical world of floating cookies. Santa chuckled to himself.
“Who knew all those hours watching elves play their silly video games would actually come in handy?” Santa said.
“A video what?” Baublekin asked, puzzled.
Santa smiled. “I’ll explain later.”
❄ Quest completed! ❄
[+100 EXP]
“Ready to keep going?” Santa asked, glancing at the map.
“Lead the way, Saint Nick.”
The duo cautiously made their way down yet another tunnel, which soon opened into a new, unexpected space.
“Um, what?” Baublekin muttered.
Santa’s eyes widened at the sight as they found themselves in a room that seemed completely out of place with the rest of the dungeon’s gloomy aesthetic.
“Where on earth are we?” Santa wondered aloud, surveying the unfamiliar surroundings.
They had stumbled into what appeared to be someone’s cozy living room. The space exuded a warm, welcoming air, but Santa couldn’t shake an underlying sense of unease. The room was fully furnished with homely touches—cushions on couches, carpets underfoot, and candles flickering softly. A table was covered with cooking utensils, and around them, cauldrons bubbled with mysterious concoctions, adding to the room’s curious yet eerie charm.
"What is this place?" Baublekin asked.
Santa, momentarily lost for words, scanned the peculiar room. Just as he was about to respond, something in the room caught his eye, abruptly diverting his attention.
Hunched in a chair facing away from them was a solitary figure, deeply engrossed in an ancient-looking book. As Santa and Baublekin approached, the figure suddenly spun around, revealing a hideous, startled face. She was a sight to behold: her skin, wrinkled like a dried apple, and her oily, tangled grey hair seemed almost alive. Her beady eyes, though aged, burned with a sinister, vibrant gleam as they focused intently on the intruders. Her gnarled fingers gripped the book with an unsettling strength.
"Well, well, well…” said a shrill voice.
[Evil Witch, Level 18]
Santa and Baublekin braced themselves to confront the witch but hesitated at the twisted delight on her face. With a maniacal gleam in her eyes, she cackled, the sound echoing off the chamber walls.
"Ah, red suit, white beard, fat as ever. Welcome, Santa!" she sneered, her voice dripping with malice. "It seems you’ve unwittingly become the key to my freedom. By opening the portal from the other side, you have unlocked my chains. Now, I can unleash my army of cookie drop nightmares upon the world!"
“Whoops,” Baublekin muttered, wide-eyed.
❄ New Quest? ❄
The Long-lost Mystery within the swamp (Part 6)
Oh, noes you have freed the Evil Witch! Stop her from destroying the earth.
Accept? Yes/No
Santa felt a weight settle in his heart as the grim realisation dawned on him: the dungeon in the swamp was indeed the prison for this evil witch. His quest for the power of revival was far more dangerous and complex than he had ever imagined.
The witch continued to cackle, her voice rising with excitement at the prospect of spreading chaos and despair. "I shall roam free, fat man! With my army, I will engulf the world in a wave of cookie dough madness!" she declared. "Children will cower in fear, and parents will tremble!"
Santa, understanding the gravity of the situation, knew he had to act fast. "Not on my watch," he retorted, gripping his hammer tightly. "I made a vow to protect Christmas and the joy it brings. I won’t let you turn the world into your plaything."
The witch’s fingers danced through the air, leaving trails of magical sparkles in their wake.
Santa and Baublekin readied themselves, gripping their weapons tightly despite knowing they were outmatched. The witch’s level far exceeded their own, but they refused to back down.
This was a fight for the very essence of Christmas, for the laughter of children, and for the peace of families around the world.
Knowing the weight of the world rested on their shoulders, Santa was determined to deliver justice to those on his naughty list. Baublekin stood firm beside him, steely resolve in his eyes as he pointed his cork gun toward the witch. They were out-levelled, but they weren't outnumbered.
With a snap of the witch's fingers, a colossal hand made of cookie dough burst from the floor, ripping through the carpets and seizing Santa in seconds. The strong, doughy fingers gripped his large, jolly form, pinning his hammer to his chest.
“Ahhh! Unhand me, you wench!” Santa bellowed.
The witch sneered, then whistled sharply. The door at the back of the room swung open, and a burst of chocolate charged in, revealing a menacing group of Pip Goblins.
[Pip Goblin, Level 3] [Pip Goblin, Level 3]
[Pip Goblin, Level 3] [Pip Goblin, Level 3]
The goblins swiftly surrounded them, cutting off any chance of escape.
With a malevolent gleam in her eye, the witch turned her attention toward Baublekin. She raised her gnarled hand, fingers weaving through the air as she chanted an incantation. Dark energy crackled and popped around her, growing more intense with each moment.
Santa, realizing the imminent danger, tried to shout a warning, but it was too late.
The witch's spell shot forth, a bolt of sinister energy hurtling straight toward Baublekin. The impact was so powerful that the elf was hurled across the room, landing with a loud thud. His small body rolled to the side, coming to rest in an unnaturally still and lifeless heap.
🗡Ally has gone offline.
Baublekin (Level 2) ‘Tinkerer of Toys’ has left the party!
Santa's cry of despair echoed through the chamber, a mix of shock and helplessness gripping him. He had been mere inches away, yet utterly powerless to stop the witch's sudden attack. The sight of Baublekin, motionless on the ground—his old companion and friend—sent a wave of deep sorrow and anger crashing through his heart.
Desperately, Santa tried to call out to his friend again, but his efforts were muffled by the dough now smothering his mouth. The witch's triumphant cackles filled the room, mocking Santa’s grief.
"I've waited centuries in this dungeon, gathering my power," she gloated, waving the book in her hand. "And now, I’m ready to conquer the world. This book will be my instrument, and thanks to you, the path to the world above is open. It's time to unleash cookie dough chaos upon all!"
Enraged and desperate, Santa furiously began gnawing at the dough encasing his mouth. As he bit into the magical substance, a series of notifications flashed before his eyes, triggered by each chomp.
[+50 EXP] [+100 EXP] [+150 EXP]
The witch’s eyes widened in disbelief as she watched numbers magically appear above Santa. “What’s this now?”
The giant hand of dough encasing Santa was fully charged with magic.
[+200 EXP] flashed as Santa took another bite. “It’s delicious!”
With each subsequent bite, more notifications popped up, the numbers increasing exponentially. The power that gave life to the mouldable dough now filled Santa’s stomach with power.
[+250 EXP], [+300 EXP], [+350 EXP], the digital figures appeared rapidly.
Santa felt the raw magic of the cookie dough surging through him, experience points jingling as they accumulated above. The energised dough wasn’t just filling him; it was boosting his power, channelling its magic directly into his very being.
[+400 EXP] [+450 EXP]
[Level Up! You are now Level 4]
[Santa has gained the ability: Frosty Fortitude (Passive)]
The witch stepped back, her expression solidifying into confused horror. With the level up, Santa felt the constraints loosen and himself feeling stronger. But he didn't stop there. Santa eagerly continued; each bite more voracious than the last. [+500 EXP] [+550 EXP] [+600 EXP] [+650 EXP] [+700 EXP]
[Level Up! You are now Level 5]
[Santa has gained the skill: Jingle Bell Agility]
“More!” Santa said with his mouth full.
[Level Up! You are now Level 6]
[Santa has gained the skill: Candy Cane Leap]
“Stop him!" the witch shrieked, her voice piercing the air. At her command, the Pip Goblins scrambled towards Santa, ready to launch their attack.
However, as they lunged toward him, the Pip Goblins unwittingly became mere morsels for Santa's now insatiable hunger.
[+220 EXP] [+220 EXP] [+220 EXP] [+220 EXP]
[Level Up! You are now Level 7]
[Santa has gained the ability: Mistletoe Mastery (Passive)]
The giant dough hand that had restrained him crumbled, loosening its grip until it dissipated completely, leaving Santa free. But the jolly patriarch of winter wasn’t done yet.
With a wild gleam in his eyes, Santa lunged at the remnants of his restraints, tearing into them with newfound hunger. “Nom! Nom! Nom!” he growled, devouring the enchanted dough.
“What? No! Stop that, you fat—” the witch's words were drowned out by the jingle of experience points as Santa continued his feast.
His eyes darted around the room, locking onto anything that looked even remotely magical or edible. Without hesitation, he grabbed glowing crumbs, enchanted bits of cookie, and anything within reach, shoving them into his mouth with relentless determination. Each bite seemed to fuel him further, as if he were consuming the very essence of the dungeon itself.
[Level Up! You are now Level 8]
[Santa has gained the ability: Reindeer Resilience (Passive)]
With one final, powerful bite, Santa felt a surge of energy coursing through him, making him stand taller and more formidable than ever before.
[Level Up! You are now Level 9]
[Santa has gained the ability: Gift Giver's Guile]
Now at level 9, Santa stood ready, his hammer feeling almost weightless in his grip. His eyes blazed with a mix of anger and determination, sending a clear message to the witch—he was not to be underestimated. The final showdown was imminent, and Santa, now far more powerful, was ready to fight for the heart of Christmas.
His voice boomed through the chamber, fury lacing every word, "Ho Ho… How dare you!"
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