Old Saint Nick’s Workshop

Slab

This small, xmas-themed adventure is meant to be a short ‘side-quest’ for my troupe, and is my way of showing them my gratefulness for having a group of friends kind enough to let me abuse them week-after-week in our Curse of Stradh campaign, and as a creative way to deliver their holiday present. This adventure is meant for a party between Lv.1 – 3. Please feel free to use this slab and adventure! If your group is higher than level 3, you may need to select new monsters, or raise the CR of the monsters linked below. Anyway, on to the adventure!

At the very center of the Endless Ice Sea lies a small workshop that legends say belongs to a cheerful man and his halfling helpers (some might call them ‘elves’, but don’t let an Elf hear you say that.) Stories say that this jolly man spends all year creating a list of all the well-behaved children in all of Faerun, while his helper halflings toil tirelessly building toys. Then one night in the very middle of winter, he loads his sleigh with toys, and along with a team of eight tiny, magical reindeer, he visits the house of every good boy and girl to deliver his toys — be they gnome or gnoll, human or hobgoblin — no matter their race or place in the world, jolly Old Saint Nick has a gift to leave under every child’s Neverwinter Tree.

However, this band of adventurers have been very naughty this year. Stealing from poor families, ignoring the pleas of hungry beggars, and even not saying ‘bless you’ to an old woman after she sneezed! Jolly Saint Nick has had enough and it’s time someone put these pugnacious punks in their place, even if he has to do it himself…

After a long day of adventuring, and a long evening of drinks and songs, the party turns in for the night at a modest inn in a modest town. As they drift off to sleep, the party is surrounded by a cold, swirling cloud of snowflakes and the sound of sleigh bells. After a brief moment, the party finds themselves standing in the middle of an icy tundra! Through the biting winds and blowing snow, they can barely see the outline of a cabin in the distance. With nowhere else to go, and the dwarf already starting to freeze, the party starts moving.

The party starts at the far end of the board, across a small mostly-frozen stream. As they start crossing the stream, the party notices the snow fall from some nearby trees and two tiny reindeer emerge, meaning to block the party’s path. The reindeer retreat after a small scuffle, and the party continues on their way to the cabin. Just as they approach a small rocky outcrop, they are stopped again by a pair of tiny, flying reindeer. One of these reindeer seems different from the others, standing proud and with a glowing red nose.
Reindeer x 7: [Ice Mephit] Rudolf the Red: [Ice Mephit (summoner variant)]

After dispatching the second group of reindeer, the party approaches the cabin door. Without hesitation, the party barges into the warm, welcoming workshop and peers around the room. There are five small humanoids, all singing a festive song and building toys at their well-worn workbenches. Are they gnomes? Or perhaps halflings? It is hard to tell for sure, what with their garish green outfits and pointed green caps. The little people look up from their work and see the party. Without missing a note of their song and with a nod to each other, they brandish their tools as weapons and start moving towards the party…

Little Helper (melee) x 3: [Halfing Musician]

Little Helper (mage) x 2: [Apprentice Wizard]

As each of the little helpers are defeated, they disappear in a puff of snow flakes and with a faint jingle of sleigh bells. Moving up to the second floor, the party finds a cozy living room, warmed by a bright fire. In the corner stands a festively decorated and brightly lit Neverwinter tree, with several boxes wrapped in garish paper and tied with comically large bows. The party’s rogue steps forward and examines one of the boxes, noticing a large name tag hanging from the bow… and it has his name on it! He quickly picks up the festive package and shakes it near his ear, hoping to glean its contents, but hears nothing moving inside. Disappointed, the rogue lets go of the box, but instead of a hollow knock, the box lands with a solid, heavy thud. The bow starts to move, strangely slithering over itself, and the box begins to open itself, revealing… teeth? MIMICS! The rest of the boxes start moving towards the party, flashing moist maws of sharp, uneven teeth. But it’s not just the boxes that have come alive, even the tree starts moving aggressively towards the party, animated by strange magics. Battle is joined!

Festive Mimic x (# of party members): [Juvenile Mimic] [Awakened Tree] x 1

Upon defeat, the tree and the swarm of tiny mimics return to their original, unmoving forms. Each gift is now partially unwrapped, with the lids ajar. Inside the box addressed to each adventurer, they find a small parchment scrip embossed with strange runes. The language seems otherworldly, and no one in the party can read their meaning.

Moving to the third and final floor, the party finally meets the mysterious master of this weirdly whimsical workshop. Old Saint Nick himself sits on a comfortable chair, quietly speaking each name he jots onto the mostly-filled parchment, followed with either a quiet “naughty” or “nice”. He diligently continues his work until the party’s knight steps forward and clears her throat… “Excuse me? We were –,” her words trail off as the jolly man lowers his parchments and glares at the party. “That’s right, excuse you! Do you have any idea how naughty you’ve all been this year?” His hand dives into a pile of scrolls on the floor and quickly returns with a hefty scroll showing signs of heavy use. The man unfurls the scroll and lets it unroll across the floor, “Not looking both ways before crossing the street, not tipping your barmaids 15%, placing the toilet paper backwards!” His round face is turning as red as his robes, and the kindness in his blue eyes turns to piercing disappointment. “Naughty. Naughty! NAUGHTY! You’ve all been very naughty this year, and it’s time someone puts you foolish adventurers in your place!” The scroll detailing each of the party’s misdeeds magically rolls itself back together, and the old man gently lets go as it floats back over to the pile on a faint trail of snowflakes. Old Saint Nick stands up tall from his chair… very tall… wait, is he getting taller? The party stands back as Old Saint Nick keeps growing, until the pom on his red hat nearly brushes the rafters. Standing twice as tall as party’s tallest human, he grabs a nearby pole with hands that glow with the cold blue light of magic, and with a bellowing “HO HO HO!”, readies himself for a fight!

Old Saint Nick x 1: [Illusionist]

Upon defeat, Old Saint Nick returns to his normal size. Standing in the middle of the room, he laughs a deep, belly-shaking laugh, “Ho ho ho! I knew you were strong, but I didn’t think you’d give even me such a jolly fight!” The party shares confused glances as the man slowly steps back to his chair, still joyfully laughing to himself, and looks at the party, the kindness returned to his eyes. “Someone very powerful is keeping an eye on you, and believes that you will do great things, and will help many others along the way. I see you’ve already opened your presents?” The party fetches the rune-covered scrips from their pouches and pockets, the dwarf holds hers up to Old Saint Nick, “Aye, and we dunnae know wot these bloody things mean!” “Ho ho ho!,” he bellows, “of course not, and I’m afraid I can’t be of much help. Those runes aren’t meant for you– or for anyone, for that matter. Even I cannot decipher their meaning. All I can do is pass on the words our of mutual benefactor, as I was asked.” Clearing his throat, Old Saint Nick repeats, “Use this to add 20 GP to your Steam Wallet and enjoy all of your favorite PC, Mac, and SteamOS games.”

“Now, if you don’t mind, I’m a very busy old man, and have much to do before midwinter’s night! Back to where you belong!” Old Saint Nick bellows his signature laugh as the party is once again surrounded by a growing whirlwind of snowflakes, filling their vision with a whorl of white and blue. The party awakens together, finding themselves still tightly snugged into their beds. Was last night all a dream? How could we all have the same dream? The confused silence is broken, as usual, by the dwarf, “Bloody Hells…” The color drains from her face as she holds up a small scrip, embossed with unintelligible, otherworldly runes. The party dives into their pockets, each finding the same scrip. Not knowing what else to do, they return the scrips to the deepest parts of their packs, praying that whatever gods guide their fates can find some use in them.

After gathering their belongings and bidding the portly innkeeper good-bye, the party sets off on the road again, onward to their next adventure — and convincing themselves that isn’t distant sleigh bells they hear echoing over the town…

This slab borrowed some resources from mjegs’ “Modular Snowy Tiles” under the Creative Commons license.