[EVENT] Oh shit it's time for the Holiday Moblin!

From the tip of frost-bitten Snowhead, far beyond the reaches of Hyrule Castle town, shines a dazzling light. You almost expect a certain phrase to be shouted, almost angrily, from this light-- but instead, it continues on, past all of Hyrule.

However, down below, on what could be considered the very peak of Snowhead, a red-armoured figures lie comatose within the snow. Suddenly, an immense weight -- ten White Wolfos and an entire sleigh -- sits atop the Holiday Moblin. He awakes with a start, still clutching an all-too familiar flask. He sits up in the snow. The sleigh tumbles off of him.

The beast grumbled something, before realizing what time of year it was. A look of horror was drawn across his features before he hopped into his sleigh, the bells on the Wolfos' harnesses jingling all the while.

...

He was in turbo, almost. He had almost forgotten about the holidays! He yelled at the Wolfos to go faster and faster; there was so much to do, and so little time! What good would he be, as a role model for all the good little girls and boys, if he wasn't there to spread around the holiday cheer and festiveness this year? It was his duty! His position! His only purpose in life!

...

A second glint appeared far beyond the second one. Soon, it sped up-- it was going at some ridiculous pace, to have caught up to a shooting star so quickly.

But wait. Was that-- could it be!? Why yes! It was! The Holiday Moblin, for all the good little girls and boys to see! Plus an adventurer or two, if he chose to discount their usually dirty deeds. He did.

His husky body opened up the burlap sack of goodies and gifts, before dropping them with abandon from his menacing, war-battered chariot. "And a gift for Thomas, and Suzy!" No one could hear him from up here so far; at least, not when he wasn't screaming.

Well, whatever his intent was, it probably wasn't malicious. The disgustingly obese figure continues over all of Hyrule, dropping boxes and gloves and mechanical trinkets, hitting nearly everyone who at least wanted something. "REMEMBER! IT'S A SECRET TO EVERYBODY!!!!"

"ON DONNER, ON DASHER, ON PRANCER AND VIXEN! HO! HO!! HO!!!"

---

Through Valentine's Day (Febuary 16th, 2016), you may post once in this thread. In doing so, claim one of the following gifts for one of your characters:

• A Snowball Glove for starting snowball fights.
• A Snowshoe Ring, perfect for festivities in the cold.
• The Sobriety spell, helpful for curing your hangover after you almost forgot an important date.
• Some White Hide, making for a cozy blanket that could be crafted into a cozy jacket.
• A Superpusher, the odd sort of trinket an adventurer would find stuffed in his stocking.
• The Cane of Pacci, a favorite for playing tricks.
• A pair of Cowardly Socks.
• A Megamouth Mask, useful for shouting almost as loud as the boisterous Holiday Moblin himself.
• A care package including a Drifty Quill and False Quill to write back home; the Spark spell to keep warm; and the Tidy Pouch to stay clean.
• A Pictograph Box to store treasured memories.
• A mere 10 rupees, for those picky few who never know what they want.

Nicholas was walking along the dirt road, book in hand as he enjoyed the last dregs of sunlight before he'd be forced to stop for the night. The moon seldom gave enough light to read by, at least not easily, so the warrior would often camp for the night once it came. A quiet march to find a decent rock or cluster of trees to hunker up against to keep the cold off, out of the way to avoid most other travelers, and some time to scrounge up a fire for dinner. A night of light dozing, but mostly solemn sitting, Nicholas would start off again at sunrise to continue his travels and his reading.

He had not, mind you, expected to be broadsided by a bundle of fur.

For a warrior with a keen sense for danger, apparently a roll of fur was not considered dangerous enough for his senses. Needless to say, he was staggered by the blow and dropped to one knee. Dazed, he glanced around to see exactly what had struck him, only to see the cause laying on the ground a few feet away. He rose to his feet to go pick up the object, unraveling the leather cords on it to reveal a large fur sheet. The white fur was obviously a large hide of sorts, and it felt warm to the touch. Swinging the blanket around to drape on his shoulders, he was shocked at how well it cut out the cool night wind blowing past him. Not a chill.

"I think the Goddess is feeling sorry for me lately," he mused aloud, "she has been taking pity on me a lot lately."

Nevertheless, the warrior rolled the White Hide blanket up and tucked it under his arm. A free blanket with the weather turning south was always a blessing, even if it did land a bit harder then desired. Perhaps he could even find a proper use for the hide with time...

(White Hide for Nicholas.)

A desert dweller born and raised, Layla had not been ready for the extreme climate of the far north. Oh, the temperature was fine- her armor was an oven in the desert, but comfortable in colder climes. The ice, however...that had slower her progress immensely. While her weight increased the friction between Layla and the ice, it also made it considerably harder to control her course and speed when she did start to slide. She had begun planting the shaft of her ax in the ice to make things easier, but that wasn't doing her pacing any favors.

Carefully, she tested the ice ahead of her, ensuring it was thick enough both to survive her weapon and support her weight afterwards. Most of the water in the area seemed to have frozen entirely solid, fortunately, but a few spots had proven slightly hazardous. Hot springs, apparently. The frost was such that even those had frozen over, but below the surface heat prevented the water from turning entirely to ice.

A soft metallic tinkle caught Layla's attention, and she turned her massive gaze to the source. Her towering height- and helmet- made it difficult to see the object at first, but after a moment it resolved itself into a simple silver ring, laying atop the ice. From whence it came, she had no idea- it must have fallen, but from where? A bird?

She picked it up and examined it. It was unadorned, but massive- easily large enough to fit over the fingers of her gauntlets. With an internal shrug, she slid it onto her finger and continued on. Its effect was immediately apparent. It wasn't just that she no longer slipped on the ice; she couldn't even if she tried. Thanking whatever Goddess was looking over her, she picked up her pace and marched ever further across the ice fields.

(Snowshoe Ring for Layla.)

"I'm telling you, Brina. He's real." Before the words had even left his mouth, the Zora knew his efforts were futile. He had spent the better part of the afternoon trying to convince his wife of the existence of the Holiday Moblin, to no avail. Were legends of the jolly philanthropist unknown in her fiery homeland, or had her sheltered upbringing kept her from ever learning about him? Gwyn had no idea, but he was sure that she would laugh off his attempts to persuade her.

As if on cue, the Subrosian woman giggled and playfully shoved his leg, her hand warm against his scales. "Oh, Gwyn! You're such a kidder! How much longer are you going to make me stand out here?" There was no malice in her tone, despite the cold- she seemed to think this was an elaborate prank on his part, and was playing along for his sake.

Putting one arm around her, Gwyn tugged at his moustache as he gazed out at the sea. In retrospect, forcing her to wait with him on the porch in the middle of winter had been a bit cruel, but this was a moment he desperately wanted to share with her. She would never believe him if he just collected their presents alone and brought them inside.

"Hang in there, love. He'll be here soon." The Zora reassured her, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. She gave an exasperated but amused sigh in response.

"So... Let me get this straight. An obese moblin in a magic flying sleigh makes a complete circuit around the entire surface world every year, dropping gifts to all he deems worthy?"

"Yes. I've received quite a few gifts from him, myself."

"Darling, you lived on the ocean floor. If he drops them from the sky, how did they reach you?"

"They sank to the bottom eventually."

"You realize how ridiculous this sounds?"

"Plenty of strange things in this world, Brina. Take us, for instance. You're a princess of Subrosia, I'm just a lad from the bottom of the sea. And yet here we are... A married couple."

"Be that as it may, this 'Holiday Moblin' is not merely implausible, but simply impossible. If nobody knows who he is, how do they commission his services?"

"You don't have to pay him, dear. He does it for free of his own accord, to spread holiday cheer."

"What?! But... That's not an efficient business model! How does he cover his manufacturing costs?"

"Some questions are better left to scholars, Brina." Gwyn shrugged. "You're sure he's never visited Subrosia?"

"If he's anything like what you've described, I'm positive. His modus operandi wouldn't work very well in Subrosia... If you dropped presents from the sky in Subrosia Village, most of them would land in the lava. Wouldn't that be awful! Can you imagine, finding random objects in the bath? Or worse, your soup?" Brina turned toward him, giving him an intent look.

Gwyn did not even know how to reply to that, but fortunately, he didn't have to. A loud, booming laugh from above interrupted the conversation, drawing the eyes of both Zora and Subrosian skyward.

There he was, in all his fleshy glory. The Holiday Moblin, clad in red furs, soared above the Bolverk villa in his trusty sleigh, chortling wildly as he hurled brightly coloured boxes to the earth below. Without warning, one such box landed directly in front of Gwyn and Brina, startling the Subrosian. The Moblin laughed again, then vanished in the blink of an eye, shooting across the night sky with such speed as to be invisible to the naked eye.

Giving his stupefied wife a triumphant smile, Gwyn walked toward the mysterious box and opened to reveal two items: A large, beautiful red bow of Subrosian make, and a strange metallic cylinder, which he quickly recognized from his smithing manuals as a Superpusher. Swiftly snatching the tool up, Gwyn practiced extending and unextending the metal rod for a few moments before turning back to Brina.

"Ah, I can use this to bend tough metal more effectively. It'll be a great help in the forge, eh Brina? Brina?" When his wife failed to respond, Gwyn reached out and tapped her arm, causing her to jump.

"What? Oh! Please excuse me, darling! I have to go adjust our sales schedule. House Bolverk will NOT lose to the Holiday Moblin in profits! Unless... Gwyn! Remind me in the morning to send out scouts to Mido! We need to form a partnership with that man! With our expertise and his distribution techniques, we'll be the most successful smithing guild in Hyrule!" Brina hastily explained, before grabbing the ribbon and hurrying inside, leaving a laughing Gwyn alone on the porch.

Brief though it had been, he knew he would cherish this moment forever.

(Gwyn gains a Superpusher.)

Guy's voice groaned out quietly from a pile of slumbering bodies. Rising into a sitting position, one of his obsidian hands pressed to his aching forehead. Considering the ridiculous metamorphoses his body has undergone, he thought, it's a wonder he could still get this wasted. Guy whispered out, "Well... if I'm going to be this hung over, might as well be on a holiday..."

The scrub went to massage his temples, only to find--for no reason--a helmet on his head. Taking it off, he quickly recognized the piece as belonging to his friend, Tent. Glancing around him, the Scrub tried to remember exactly how he got into this strange cabin--and who all these slumbering fools were all around him. Deku Scrubs, Koroks, Hylians, a Gerudo--no way that was Navina--and even a Goron he didn't recognize. Wait, even his fucking horse--Gordon--was collapsed in a corner. This must have been one hell of a party--which really made him wish he could remember any of it. Someone must have spiked the 'nog pretty damn hard for them to all pass out in the same room. He assumed one of those passed out idiots was Tent, possibly among others he knew...

"Tent," Guy whispered, waiting for a response.

A moment of silence passed, before the named Deku Scrub--wearing a red robe of all things--slipped through a nearby doorway, holding a mug of what Guy assumed to be coffee. There was slight amusement in his eyes, though he hardly seemed surprised to see the pile of bodies. With his free hand, he motioned for Guy to come over towards him--and, with a bit of stumbling, the Obsidian Scrub stumbled over, without tripping over one of the numerous bodies scattering across the floor.

Tent sighed with a smile. "I figured this would happen tonight... Here, I've been practicing this. It isn't a fire spell, but, well, you could say a certain entity bestowed it upon me." He pressed two fingers towards Guy's forehead, then closed his eyes, focusing for but a moment.

"H-holy... Din's grace," Guy sighed with relief, his headache and--indeed--entire hangover completely gone. "You have to teach me that spell sometime."

"I would... if I understood how I obtained it. A few weeks ago, came to me in a dream... A powerful figure cloaked in red." He offered his friend a knowing smile, "It is good to know She still watches out for us."

Guy tilted his head slightly--wondering if the man was delusional or this was a genuine gift from the goddess. In any case, he thought to at least give credit where Tent seemed to think it was due. "Well, tell her I said thank you."

With a nod, Tent added, "You're the first to awaken... I'll take care of the others in time."

"Seriously, though," Guy's eyes narrowed, "...the fuck happened last night?"


[Tent gains the Sobriety spell.]

Elliot had fallen asleep on the mountainside, only to wake up when he heard the cries heralding the arrival of the massive, overweight moblin and his sled of White Wolfos. Was it that time of the year again? He hadn't realised. He was on his way back home for the holidays, hoping to see his brothers and his parents in good health and the island returned to normalcy and peace now that it had had some time to recover from the presence of the monster he'd dubbed Magmape.

Standing up, he held one hand above his eyes to shield them from the light emitted by the sled. And it was a good thing, too, because something solid and heavy came hurtling down towards him! He ducked his head, avoiding the two items thrown at his head. When he looked up once more, he saw the Holiday Moblin had flown away, nowhere to be seen. He looked back down, spotting the two blue rupees at his feet. ...huh. Somehow, that darned Holiday Moblin always knew exactly what people needed.

In an extreme last-minute bid, Elliot gains 10 Rupees.

(( OHHHH BOY. ))

Spaghet slammed the door to his small one room apartment. He was sick of the holidays and glad that they were finally over. What had the holidays ever done for him?! In his childhood he desperately tried every year to get out of the family music caravan. Rushing around from town to town at breakneck speeds in order for his family to acquire as many rupees as possible in a short amount of time, skipping meals because stopping to eat would waste an hour, skipping out on sleep in an effort to accumulate as much capital as possible in the season of generous tips...

Present day, his family managed to get into an increased amount of trouble during the holidays in the towns that they passed through. Once again Spaghet was stuck rushing around Hyrule to plead with guards and lords to let them go, often using his own rupees as bail. Did it ever occur to his siblings to avoid the keg when every time they drank they tended to get into trouble?! Spaghet was concerned that the Yettin family name was becoming more and more associated with brawling and property damage. Of course the family was always a bit rambunctious, but he worried that regardless of how wonderfully they played, eventually they would overstay their already shaky welcome.. He knew how most viewed moblins, and he was deathly tired of his siblings falling into stereotypes when they were inebriated, especially when he knew that they were capable of so much more..

Spaghet sighed and unceremoniously dropped his bag, defeated. His back rested against the door and slowly but surely he felt himself sliding to the ground, exhausted. He buried his face in his paws and sighed deeply, curling his knees up to his chest. He sat there like that for a moment, thanking the Goddesses that the season was finally coming to an end. He inhaled deeply and looked up at his home. He.. didn't smell Deku and his place was orderly. That was a good sign, at least.

He glanced over at his bed, realizing that there was a small present on it. He froze. Someone must have left it here while he was traveling. Had he forgot to lock his door?! Certainly not... but he absolutely knew and was friendly with enough unscrupulous characters that locks were hardly an issue. He tentatively stood up and meandered over to the gift, picking it up. He shook it slightly, flinching out of instinct. When it didn't immediately blow up, he hesitantly opened the box. He looked down at its contents. The fear on his face immediately turned to confusion.

Socks?

Socks?!

He didn't even wear shoes, nor could he find any that fit. He looked down at his feet, malformed from years of going barefoot while growing up. If he slipped these on, he was certain that his sharp claws would eventually poke through. He began to sweat. Whoever gave these to him was probably expecting him to wear them. Oh no. If he didn't, they would certainly think he didn't appreciate the gift. And he had no idea who had given them to him. He could be offending literally anyone he knew the next time he walked out of his house without them on.

He groaned.

(( Spaghet gets Cowardly Socks at the literal last possible minute ))