[EVENT] Rise of the Holiday Moblin

It was cold in the air, something Tomate expected year-round in his home. The Holiday Moblin would soon take flight. From his new Best Friend Julius, the quirky Yeti learned of this yearly tradition. Asking a large monster in a drunken stupor for your deepest wishes, usually to receive something either similar or random to what you asked. That was somewhat what Julius had told him. Had he asked anyone else, they would probably attest to usually getting what they wanted. Perhaps, they would say, caked in the sticky urine that constantly bathed the Moblin's paws.

Tom thought to himself. He had had a couple years outside his home to try many different cheeses. But some still eluded him. He hoped for many rare cheeses which either existed truly, or only existed within this Yeti's wildest dreams. Two of them came to mind immediately, which he knew the Moblin might be able to find. He knew of the Goddess Cheese, sometimes referred to as the Cheese Force, a cheese that the three Golden Goddesses left behind as they passed into a new realm. He was almost 100% certain the Moblin couldn't obtain this. He thought of Goat Cheese, a solid-rock type cheese mined from the darkest depths of Kraftfire Island, a cheesy noodle volcano far in the tropics of the great sea. Goat Cheese was a dense and pleasurable cheese shaped like a statue of a goat. The statue would be large enough to feed him for months. His second most-desired cheese was known only as Skill Cheese. Skill Cheese was a special type of cheese that could only be inherited from many different people. Only the most lucky of connoisseurs could ever taste such a delight as a result of how it was obtained. So much currency went into obtaining Skill Cheese that it was viewed by most commoners as a waste. Not to Tom though, he wished not to have such a cheese collect dust on his shelf. He wanted to taste it with his very own tongue.

Tom's List (open) Tom's List (close)

Goat Cheese
Skill Cheese

Meryem awoke in a haze. Could she see, her vision would be blurry like trying to find a small rock in a blizzard. How long had it been since her leader had been mercilessly and suddenly killed? Her cold sweat had run down her forehead, the desert heat continuously making salty streaks on her face. She couldn't just let this continue. She needed to leave her bedroll and start deciding things for herself. She needed to lead on her own, it was the only way out of this rut. Pooky had been missing for weeks, maybe even months. She thought about what the little Moblin could be doing. . .

That was it! The Moblin! If Meryem could ask the Holiday Moblin for something decisively powerful, something more useful than her own foresight on its own, that would make all the difference. The Circle of Elders needed her guidance. She didn't need to contact them, she had a rough idea of what she could use on her own. Maybe a pendant, a necklace, a charm of some sort? No, she would ask him for something even closer to home. She began writing a message to the Big Red Guy in her signature illegible patter.

Meryem's List (open) Meryem's List (close)

I wish for a new Crystal Ball

"Why are we out here again...?"

The deku's droll remark cut through the silence of the winter air, as he watched, arms crossed, as a bizarre ritual unfurled before him.

"Well, you're here to make sure that I don't come to any harm. Goddesses forfend us from any assailants that might hap across us." The korok waved a stubby hand around them, gesturing at the open plains whispering with dried winter grasses. "Who knows what could be out there? A pack of Wolfos? Some... ReDead?" voice shuddering at that last one, Bepu returned to his task.

"Okay, fine. You're a soft, vulnerable sandwich salesman, and I'm sure some bandits would just love to get their hands on your victuals." rolling his eye, Dante continued. "That doesn't explain what you are doing out here, though. Are... Are you seriously rubbing cheese on your body? Is that green stuff pesto?"

Bepu huffed, removing a sack from an oddly shaped bundling of sticks. "Such are the sacrifices of the truly dedicated." With a small groan, he hoisted the bundle, with one elongated branch acting as a stake. If it weren't so misshapen, it might have been a scarecrow, but it was entirely too... lumpy. In fact, now that Dante gave it a bit more consideration, it looked very much like a Moblin.

"Oh... Oh no." Dante's eyes grew wild with sudden fear. "If you're doing what I think you're doing, don't. He's insane, and we could literally be turned into cheese!" voice suddenly hoarse, as spiders crawled down his back. Fear dancing on his face, his eyes shot up to the sky, just waiting.

"I already told you! My shop is renowned for having the best ingredients, and I'll be damned if I can't get my hands on some cheese even more rare then that new Gerudo stuff!" An ember seed blossomed to life below the Moblin effigy; with the fire begun, so too could the ritual. Bepu began hopping from one foot to the other, dancing around the burning figure, waving small sticks in the air and letting out feral grunts, almost like a chant. Dante crouched low in the grass, awaiting the sounds of the sleigh bells...

Dante & Bepu's List (open) Dante & Bepu's List (close)

Anything for either of them.

While Silas had heard of the Holiday Moblin in his time in Castle Town, he had never really partaken in the tradition himself, it had always seemed a bit too frivolous for someone of his clan and position, not to mention he had almost everything he needed to carry out his duty. Sirius would shake his head and sigh if he could see him now. But no one had to know, right?

Julius had told him about the letters, and though the man's experience with the creature seemed to vary, he had encouraged him to try it for himself this year. And so the Sheikah found himself at his desk in a rare hour of free time, staring at a single empty sheet of paper.

What did he want? A puppy? Hmm, no, he still didn’t have the time to take care of one. He crossed it off, tutting as the ink bled into the paper. A boyf- no, that was probably a very bad idea to ask of a Moblin, he didn’t even bother to write that one down.

Hmmm… Silas tapped the end of the brush against his lower lip, staring at the page deep in thought. Some new knitting needles, perhaps? Big ones, so his other hand could hold them as well. Yes, that was a better idea. Although… Maybe his brother had the same idea. Was there something else he wanted? Something he truly, deeply wanted?

Hours later, when the room had grown dark and Silas had retired to bed, a single sheet of thin paper was left on the desk. A letter, asking for only a single thing.

Silas' Letter (open) Silas' Letter (close)

Dear Mr. Moblin,

I don’t have any grand wishes, but perhaps a simple request of you:
A puppy
Knitting Needles (Big ones!)

Some peace and quiet.


Yours,

Sih Illhas

Despite the snow seeping into his hair and clothes, Leskar did not shiver as he stood on the edge of a large lake, lost in thought as he stared into the water.

He had heard the people in the cities and villages speak of a powerful entity that could grant wishes and bestow gifts on those it favoured. Much like his powers of old had been. Except this one was… A Moblin. And one Leskar was especially un-fond of. He had not forgotten how the irreverent creature had pelted him with rupees several winters prior, his anger likely needing a few more decades to cool completely. But if the stories were true…

Perhaps, for now, he could consider the beast a worthy opponent- but not entirely an equal just yet. The stories of how one would write a letter to creature, any sort of letter, and send it, in any way possible, and have ones wish granted had piqued his curiosity.

Leskar, however, was doing it in a slightly different way. The old way.

The carved stone was far from heavy for the fairy, but he felt its weight nonetheless. Once, back in his time, people had carved their wishes on pieces of stone, and given them to wells or lakes, sometimes even the sea, hoping that their message might reach a benevolent power. His own fountain had received plenty of them, all now long-forgotten at the bottom of its pool.

And so he stood in the edge of the lake, peering into its icy depths, stone lying in his hands, both sides carved with a single word. Perhaps the beast could help him regain what he had lost- his powers. Leskar frowned. In the old days, he should have dropped it in the water. But he could not imagine the obese, sleigh-bound creature from his memory diving to the bottom of a lake. No, Moblins were not known for being aquatic creatures. Perhaps a different way, then.

The fairy looked around, eyes eventually settling on a large rock not far from the water. He brushed the snow off the top, carefully placing down the smaller rock. He had not entirely grasped how exactly the letters found their way to the Moblin, but it seemed as if they just did. Leskar nodded to himself, satisfied with the spot, and turned around, continuing his journey once more.

Did he imagine it, or did he, very faintly, hear that familiar clarion-call in the distance?

The Stone’s Inscription (open) The Stone’s Inscription (close)

One side reads 'POWERS', the other 'STRENGTH', carved in ancient Hylian.

Rika narrowed his eyes at the parchment in front of him, a deep and serious scowl painted across his face. He had been burdened with the most frustrating of tasks. Year after year, he heard of this villainous fiend’s deeds, those singing his praises, and begging Rika to join in their cult-like reverence to him. He had faced off against him, against his followers, but never once had he contacted him directly. Never once had he been ‘gifted’ with one of his hellish curses, either, much to his pleasure. Yet, then, why was he sitting beside a sheet, inkpen gripped and ready to write?

He’d had enough. The jovial cheers, cries for help from those too foolish to do it themselves, the disgruntled whines at how he was such a ‘killjoy’ and ruining the fun by not joining in. It was something he endured, without fail, every year. He wanted no part, but they had twisted his arm, and now he was left with no choice but to make them regret it. So, mind made up, the Kokiri began fervently scribing away, malicious smirk growing with each character. His penmanship complete, Rika grinned, proud of what he did. With this, they’d never pester him again. And more importantly, Rika would win over him. Over that damned Moblin.

Rika’s List (open) Rika’s List (close)

Greetings, Bastard Moblin,

I hope you are faring well- your antics have become so droll and uninspired in recent years that I worry you have fallen irrevocably ill. I am sure receiving a letter from one such as I comes as a surprise. After all, why would I now waste my valuable time sending you a missive for gifts, after all this time, when I clearly have little need for your paltry handouts? The answer, simple-minded holiday beast, is so basic even you can understand. Your ravenous cultists drive me to madness with their bickering, that the only conscientious decision for me to make was this, to rid them and you once and for all and prove how meaningless and pathetic this begging truly is.

You are far too inebriated or foolish- or both, as is most likely, - to comprehend what I have written, so allow me to rephrase: I am superior to you in all facets of life. There is not a single instance in which you excel over me, and to receive one of your ‘gifts’ would come as an insult of the highest magnitude. There is nothing you could offer someone of my stature that could benefit me, and if I were not so absolutely certain of that fact I would challenge you to churn the rusted cogs in your dented skull to find error in my words. Your very existence serves as an insult to my being, and it would bring me immense joy to personally send your infernal hell sleigh plummeting into the bottoms of the Great Bay once and for all.

Lastly, and I mean this, truly: Fuck you.

Rika

------------------------------------------------

A sickly smile flickered across the miniscule, wisp-like figure resting in the shadows, snuggled within the hays of a barn yard. The children of this town had spent countless hours speaking of this Holiday Moblin, and the treats he would bestow upon them should they behave.

This Holiday Moblin, was he their king? Most gracious, to reward the children with such generosity. Through one form or another, they all seemed to write their wishes on sheets of dried wood, which they then sent away for him to somehow receive. A strange ritual, to be sure, but this eccentric king must have a method to his ways.

Cenea, too, would write to him, then. Such a good caretaker must be shown proper praise, after all. With a sheet she’d stolen from an innocuous pile, she began writing.

Cenea’s List (open) Cenea’s List (close)

Front page is page 4 local Nabooru bakery’s tax information

The writing is frantic and scribbled, quite difficult to read

Greetings King Holiday,

I am told you gift people their wishes.

1ne child, please. Any child

My chilD

My CHI

It seems to continue on, but the writings have become frantic and scribbled over, that they cannot be distinguished or made out

By the way this event is closed.Expect results only a little over a year later than they should have come.

Winter came, and winter went, yet there was not a single flash of red in the sky, nor a single ominous ‘HO HO HO’ carried on the wind. Where had the Moblin gone? Had he embarked on his last journey, and flown beyond the moon? Had the steadily growing list of people out to kill him finally caught up to him?

Summer came, and summer went, and the last believers put away their stockings and burned their lists, none aware of the true fate of the Holiday Moblin.

Winter came again, and somewhere deep underground, a massive hunk of flesh and alcohol stirred. Yes, he remembered. The heist, the trail of slobber and dropped rupees, cold hard glass digging in his hands as he tried to hide the evidence in unassuming gifts for the masses. He remembered the harpoon, the sleigh lurching to the side as it lost its battle with gravity. He remembered coarse hard sand, the veiled strangers that dragged him away to a place that smelled faintly of cheese. And then… darkness.

A full year and a bit later, the Moblin has finally served his time for bank robbery and rupee laundering awoken from his deep slumber, racing across Hyrule to scatter the remaining evidence amongst good boys and girls.

Open your gift* and find out, for what’s in them- no one knows, not even the holiday moblin, ha ha ha ha! No, seriously, he has absolutely no idea what he’s giving out. Next to your gift you also find a haphazard collection of green rupees scattered across the ground, 50 in total, as you count them. Almost as if someone threw them out in a hurry.

And remember, it’s (the holiday moblin’s rampant alcoholism) a secret to everyone!!!!

*Acceptance of rewards makes you complicit in Holiday Moblin’s war crimes. You are an accessory and abetted his criminal activity. Quest complete.

--

In addition to the gifts listed below, each character receives 50 Rupees.

Tomate's Gift (open) Tomate's Gift (close)

That night, Tomate would finally achieve his grand goal in life. His feet touched down gently on the golden surface, carefully avoiding the many holes and craters. Salt tickled his nose, he could even taste it in the air. Finally, he made it. That sweet, sweet motherlode of cheese that had beckoned at him every night of his life.

The moon.

Hungrily, the Yeti took out his pickaxe and began to dig, pulling up chunk after chunk, gorging himself on the cheese. It was hard to stop, impossible even, soon he found himself in a hole as big as the craters around him. Such greed, such hubris could not be left unpunished.

The ground rumbled, the cheese around him crumbled with a mighty roar as liquid cheese spewed forth from a nearby crater. All around the Yeti, cheese dripped down from the sky, coating the ground, his haul, his hands, even his head. The goopy goodness dripped down his head, weighing him down and down until it forced him to his knees.

The Yeti awoke with a start, shaking his head free of cheese. Or so he tried, for the cheese was stuck to his head! Distressed, he reached for his head, only to find…. a hat? He took it off his head, inspecting it closer. It was a wide-brimmed head decorated with fruit- no, cheese? No, it was fruit after all, piled high on the hat’s crown, peculiar pears that were not quite unlike cheese. Dangling from the brim of the hat were small chunks of butter. Or well, they would dangle if they did not try to float upwards constantly. Was upside-down-dangling a thing?

[Tom receives a Hyoi Pear Supply and a chunk of Float Clay.]

Meryem's Gift (open) Meryem's Gift (close)

Your palm rest over your crystal ball, waiting for something, anything from the Holiday Moblin. Was his plan so meticulous it was this far in advance? His machinations were truly powerful. Suddenly, like a powerful storm, a vision rushed into your mind- fragments of what was happening, or going to happen, somewhere far from here. A girl flashed in your mind, one adorned in golds and greens, sitting at a tea table far too eliquate for her demeanor. You knew this girl- she was the vile Kokiri child, Evelyn. What sort of horribleness could she be up to? She took sips from the dainty tea cup held in her palms, setting it back on a frilly table decorated with cakes and pastries. Why was she having a tea party by herself, in the middle of nowhere? Then, your eyes saw something else- a sparkle streaking down towards her at startling speeds. Despite that, its majesty was clear to you- this was an all powerful, divine artifact, one the best of seers couldn't even dream of having. A Moon Pearl. Before you had a chance to take in its majesty, it crashed headfirst- literally, - into Eve, sending her, the teacup, the tea table, and everything crashing to the floor. A large puff of smoke clouded the area. You don't know what happened, it went blank. Your consciousness returned to your reality, and though that vision was but a brief moment in your head, your surroundings had changed. The air had changed. A small sack was at your feet, where it wasn't before. Sitting on top was a sheet of parchment- though Meryem could not read, it only said one word, "BAll". An investigation of the sack would reveal numerous, ball shaped objects- A pair of Harvest Rings, which when worn together made a bulbous pumpkin, a Snowball Glove, which can form perfectly circular snowballs, a pouch filled with the round Woodball Supply, and finally, the worst thing you could give to a blind woman, a Bomb Seed. They can all probably be used to see, right?

[Meryem receives one pair of Harvest Rings, a Snowball Glove, a Woodball Supply, and a single Bomb Seed.]

Kalvar's Gift (open) Kalvar's Gift (close)

‘Twas a night in the fall, in what seemed such a hurry. Kalvar’s feet still ached, frying hot like two bowls of curry. Was his first glimpse into the esca-ped Moblin, ‘twas much too late in the year to be anyone’s problem. A stench from the sky smelled of seasonal beer, along flew a sled hauled ten tiny reindeer wolfos.

Down came a letter upon Kalvar’s lap, the lateness of this Holiday felt like a slap. In’twain Kalvar sliced the envelope open, it was clear to the man that the Moblin was broken. He read but a note that conveyed he was “sAWry.” Down came a package that whistled in worry.

Inside was a Spinner as well as a Horse Call, the note then continued that he was “tHE WINNer.” A present to all whose memory was muddy, aloud called the Moblin “IT’S A SECRET TO EVERYBODY!”

[Kalvar receives a Spinner and a Horse Call.]

Viorla's Gift (open) Viorla's Gift (close)

Eyes flickering up, with a gaze so familiar. Luminescent stars sparkling in lazily flickering eyes, Viorla's sleep-deprived senses taking them in. Many a wish had been sent to those heavens, and this was a day you had felt like many so long ago. A sense of nostalgia, or deja vu, perhaps. Or, maybe it was more of a longing, the lingering thought of a wish that was never quite granted. Maybe you had forgotten entirely. Whatever your reason, your eyes lingered on those shimmering beacons, suspended endlessly in the sky. Or so you thought. It took you a moment to register- maybe the insomnia was playing with your mind, - but it was clear that they were... falling? One, two, three. Before you could dare to react, crashes impacted near you. But it was no star, nor any other alien substance. A quick glance would show it to be a longsword, its sleek blade embedded in the dirt. It was not alone. Like a torrent of rain, weapons of all kind drizzled down- blades of steel of all shapes and lengths, mallets and clubs of stone and wood alike, longarms of both wider than your short Kokiri frame. Whether you chose to cower or dodge, the rainfall quickly came to an end. Peeking your eyes, it seems as though, through some miraculous luck of fate, you and yours had avoided any sort of impalement or injury. Instead, the shower of weaponry lay at your feet, surrounding you. For some reason, whether it be a strange and curious outstretched hand, a surprised stumble , grabbing at anything to stop from falling and impaling yourself, or otherwise, you grabbed the hilt of one of the blades. As you touched it, you felt the sensation of the blades stabbing you- not in a physical sense, you felt no real pain, but like there was a blade in your mind. It lasted for but a brief moment, and when your wince had ended, the blade you had grabbed was now floating wordlessly in front of you. With a little practice, you would find you could use Animate Weapon on any weapon you gripped.

[Viorla receives Animate Weapon.]

Dante & Bepu's Gifts (open) Dante & Bepu's Gifts (close)

Whether Bepu’s ritual was appreciated, the two would never know. But long after the effigy’s ash had scattered to the wind, and long after the pesto-aroma had stopped following Bepu, the two would be surprised by a sudden ‘fwump’ as a paper bundle smacked against the ground right before their feet.

Or, well, it seemed to have been paper at some point. Whatever it had been wrapped around had started to grow through the paper, several curious stalks curling upwards, some even bearing bulbs or flowers. Between the stalks, the addressee’s name was still vaguely legible.’To bEPu FRoM BePU’. When had Bepu ever gotten an order to deliver a sandwich to himself? And how was bread such an excellent long-term fertilizer, so good that it could grow things that had not even been ingredients in any sandwich Bepu had made before?

Next to the paper-plant-bread package, an absolutely drenched sack flopped to the ground. An empty drenched sack, on closer inspection.

Once, in a different winter, the sack might’ve contained something frozen. But whoever had packed it seemed to have forgotten that seasons- and temperatures- change. At the bottom of the sack however, was a small slip of paper, just as soggy as the burlap it was pasted to. On unfolding it seems to be… a comic? No, the simplistic illustrations must be some kind of manual. One for a “SNÖMÅN™”. That must have been the thing that the sack originally contained! Perhaps, if Dante figures out the instructions, he might get a better grasp of how to build this “SNÖMÅN™”.

[Bepu receives one of each: Smoke Seed, Breath Seed, Bomb Seed, Chill Seed, Cloud Seed, Compaction Seed, Crackle Seed, Gale Seed, Glow Seed, and Armor Seed.]

[Dante receives Summon Chilfos.]

Yuku's Gift (open) Yuku's Gift (close)

Time had come and gone, and with them perhaps too did the thoughts of your holiday prayer. Resting by a riverside, your eyes caught glimpse of a bottle drifting toward the shore, a soggy note somehow fastened to its side. Your curiosity drawn, you retrieved the bottle. In it, a thick, green liquid, not quite ChuChu Jelly but reminiscent of it, rest inside- at its top, seemingly unable to sink to its depths, was a single, wide bean, multi-colored pods cradled by it. This was clearly a single Magic Bean. The note attached to its front, though wet and torn, was still somehow clear- "BEanZ N BOOze", it said. What could that possibly mean? Do beans really go with booze? Whoever wrote this was a madman. Closer examination of the liquid inside would reveal it to be a Green Potion. Is it really worth drinking something with a bean, though?

[Yuku receives one Green Potion and one Magic Bean.]

Ulivali's Gift (open) Ulivali's Gift (close)

If it's alcohol you've imbibed, then to you the Holiday Moblin has subscribed. Remember the letter of your past, and your gift of now is sure to be a blast. If the spirits came from your flask, let these booms take the form of a mask. So you don't cause a rumpus, let your thoughts be your compass. For a gift you'll never have to beg, because I'll give you an egg. If your gifts seem discreet, then let me repeat; A Blast Mask is first, its shock quite the burst; a Compass comes next, so in your travels you'll never feel vexed; with an EGG your present has been given, and I hope the Holiday Moblin's lateless can ever be forgiven.

[Ulivali receives a Blast Mask, a Compass, and one EGG.]

Flayre's Gift (open) Flayre's Gift (close)

Out of nowhere, green rupees rained down from the sky, much like the petals of a certain plucked flower, pelting the fairy. Did she imagine it, or did she hear the faint traces of manic laughter on the wind? It was hard to tell over the flurry of rupees whistling past her, digging themselves into the snow.

But that was not all. Once silence had returned to the sky, a single breeze stirred Flayre’s wings. The forest held its breath. Then, ever so softly, something fluttered down on the breeze. A single slip of paper drifted down gently, swaying to and fro until it unceremoniously landed in the fairy’s face. Upon taking it off, Flayre would discover it was an advertisement for… a performance?

“CONQUER the dance field! Show them your inner DRAGON! TWIST and TURN like a real desert beauty!”

The text was gaudy, covering even more gaudy images of scantily-clad Gerudo dancers. But there was no date or time for the performance listed anywhere… On turning the paper over, the leaflet’s real function became clear.

Detailed dance instructions, hmm?

[Flayre receives Captivating Dance.]

Pip's Gift (open) Pip's Gift (close)

Though it had been a great many months, like a drought in time, something in the air reminded of festivity. Pip, always one to take a job, was presumably very busy. But what he had wanted seemingly a year ago would come crashing down with honors from the Moblin. A haphazardly-wrapped package crashed nearby, giving away his position immediately. Seeing the festive wrapping gave away what it was immediately, and once the panic died down the package came apart like warm butter. Primarily poking out was a letter from the Moblin. “LiEk prEtty ladiEs too” it read like the drippings of a teacup across a napkin. “givE you a haNd.” it also said on the back. Inside the balsa-wood and paper-mache coated monstrosity was a cask of ale, seasonal ale. The Moblin’s favorite. This was a massive compliment from the ephemeral creature. While the package stank there was also something else inside, something mystical. It was a small wax hand. Remembering the past year, Pip remembered he asked about a “pretty girl” and the smoothened wax hand began to taunt him in his palms. Pip wasn’t just going to let the Holiday Moblin tell him to wax his palms, but suddenly it melted into thin air and a glowing aura dissolved into his body. It would become clear to him that he now knew Summon Floormaster!

[Pip receives a new girlfriend Summon Floormaster.]

Silas' Gift (open) Silas' Gift (close)

The days had passed, and your letter seemingly went unanswered. You were rather busy, though, so perhaps it had slipped your mind the very next day. Things had seemed quieter around your place since penning that letter, so maybe, through some surprising stroke of clarity, the boisterous, booming Holiday Moblin gave you what you wanted most of all- not a visit from him. That was, until you returned home one day. Little seemed out of place, but with your keen senses and sharp eyes, nothing could pass by a Sheikah. A small, palm-sized box rest atop your desk- whether unbeknownst to you, in the same location you had once left that letter. Carved(?) atop it was a single phrase- “nO PUPPee”. It was silent, but the words practically screamed inside your mind with how obnoxious they were. Whether out of a sense of caution or curiosity, or something else entirely, you peered inside to view its contents. A single, lone ring, innocuous to the untrained eye. But to a Sheikah, its hidden talent was clear- a Ring of Silence, that could mask even the loudest of one’s movements. At least you could always offer it up to find that special man you’ve always wanted.

[Silas receives a Ring of Silence.]

Leskar's Gift (open) Leskar's Gift (close)

A serene return to that lake, once dusted with a ring of fresh-snow. It now jutted out surrounded cleanly by a ring of trees, their leaves turning from green to yellow. Where the stone was once carved lay something new, recently placed there in uncharacteristic confidence. It was something of a courtesy that the Moblin didn't have to dive to the depths of the lake to retrieve that stone, and in return a courtesy would be done for Leskar. There among the smooth rim of the lake, the soft sandy bank, lay a busted flask once brimmed with fire water. A trail of slobber and gastric recurrence made a tell-tale trail away from the bank.
Discreet as he was, the Moblin did not keep his sickly bearings at bay for long. The trail of regurgitation beckoned back to a naturally shapen stone, now like a pedestal displaying its venerated contents. Atop this stone lay a small totem, as well as another stone with a carving on its surface. The additional stone looked like that very same message rock with its own carving emblazoned upon it. To Leskar, (no, to anyone) these mad scribblings were essentially unreadable. The wooden totem depicted a proud boar's face, most likely harkening the visage of the Moblin himself. Surrounding the small totem was also a polished and bejeweled ring, a pearl-like facet at its center. Leskar would find this ring to fit his own hand, as if made specifically for himself. Grasping the totem to remove the ring would transfer the real gift: what once was taken from him, the ability to give to others would be bestowed upon him. He found he could now walk upon the water's surface, quite the opposite of diving. But moreso a bit redundant seeing as he could fly. "POWERS" the totem rang out, and he would find at next opportunity his ability to give this power to others at a touch so that they may go over water as he did.

More mysterious was the ring. "STRENGTH" it bellowed. For there was nothing stronger than the will of a beast. But what animal had the Moblin chosen? For it was the best and greatest animal of all. Placing and sliding the ring on his finger, Leskar would find himself becoming an Octorok.

[Leskar receives an Octo Ring and Water Walking with the 'Communal' Augment.]

Rika's Gift (open) Rika's Gift (close)

Something hit the roof. An intruder? Or a particularly corpulent bird? And the sound that followed, was that just the wind? It stopped for a moment. Perhaps it was just something his sleep-drunk mind made up.
Or was it?

He was awoken with a start when the chimney started ominously rattling. If that was a bird, it was huge, and for some reason trying to make its way down.

The chimney rattled even harder, shaking precious heirlooms off the mantle and clattering onto the floor. Was the Moblin himself trying to wrestle down the chimney? Could the cowardly creature finally have decided to appear face-to-face? A faint whizzing and soft, repeating ‘thunk’-ing echoed down, growing steadily louder and louder as the very walls started to vibrate with it.

With an enormous billowing cloud of soot and dust the mysterious entity collapsed into the fireplace, leaving perfectly clean imprints of the Kokiri and his Ocotorock companion against the wall. The whirring was louder now, mechanical and accompanied by the sound of something dragging across the floorboards. While the dust settled and Rika wiped his face, the ‘thunk’-ing started again, this time in a corner of the room. Thunk. Thunk. Thunk. Once the dust no longer plagued his eyes, Rika would notice an odd contraption repeatedly ramming the wall right next to the doorframe. It seemed the Kokiri was not the only one capable of taunting someone.

Soon after, a mysterious letter flapped down his chimney followed by a box. The letter fell open, reading:
"you bEEи such a gooD boi all yEar mr. bEpu. hErE iS a SEED ShootEr, juSt for you."
In the small, glasses-sized box below was a fantastically crafted smooth and painted Seed Shooter painted like a candy cane.

[Rika receives a priceless amazing treasure Spinner and a beautiful Seed Shooter].

Cenea's Gift (open) Cenea's Gift (close)

"hEиlo it iS mE, Sir Mr. Dr. HolliDay. mE havE procurED 1 oиEst chilD. for you of courSE. thaиk you a lot for payiиg your taxES. mE havE wolfoS rEaD mE your haиDwritiиg, it SEEm you havE lot of problEmS. Do иot worry about futurE. thErE bE maиy poSSibilitiES!! JuSt got out of priSoи! it grEat to SEE maиy HolliDay CHilDrEи out for gEttiиg prESEиtS! Happy HolliDay timE cEиEa! ITS A SECRET TO EVERYBODY!"

A look at the Ghastly Doll filled Cenea with courage, and upon grabbing the cursed object she proceeded to even learn a new spell.

[Cenea receives one Ghastly Doll infused with Sentience Sap. Additionally, she receives Backbiter.]

Sienna's Gift (open) Sienna's Gift (close)

Bloody sap oozed from your hands, like many a time before. The rush after a kill was always the highest, the thrill of seeing their head pop like a grape. Maybe it was more like a watermelon, in your case. Regardless, while you relished over the bloody murder you had inflicted on some poor creature that probably did not deserve it, something strange happened above your head. Catapulting down from the heavens was a bag- it crashed almost immediately in front of you, though the impact was surprisingly soft and gentle. Something in your mind told you- this was the Holiday Moblin’s bearings. Flipping open the sack to bear witness to its contents, I’m sure you relished the thought that his decapitated head rest idly inside. Unfortunately, it did not- nor did any blood, guts or anything else of any interest. Instead, an assortment of soaps, brushes, and other cleansers were scattered about, with a single sheet of parchment in the center, clearly reading “YOu nEEd HElP”. Whether out of an urge to smash them, or for some strange reason a genuine curiosity in the hygienic goods, you came into contact with one of the soaps. Immediately, you felt a sense of cleanliness rush throughout your core, like all of the internal blemishes and venoms your body may have been suffering were expunged. Absolutely disgusting. You could now use Quick Detox. Also mixed somewhere within the filthy goods was a Tidy Pouch.

[Sienna receives Detox and the 'Quick Detox' Augment and a Tidy Pouch.]

Buzzari's Gift (open) Buzzari's Gift (close)

That night, little Buzzari slept the soundest sleep known to Minishkind.
He was falling, falling… wait. No. He was lying on something soft again. Soft like a… bumblebee? Several bumblebees. He had been falling, but a swarm of ghostly bumblebees had materialised under him, slowing his fall to a gentle sway.

Something zipped around him, insistently buzzing in his ear. It was a smaller bee, of a pure gold colour. It circled the Minish, tugging on his arm, flying to and fro from the swarm as if trying to get them to follow it. Buzzari found that the swarm under him followed his thoughts, drifting after the little one.

The golden bee led them to a shimmering, sparkling palace of green glass. Where had he seen those faceted, pointy towers before? More bees buzzed around it, was it a hive?

But right before they could drop him at the palace's gates, the bees vanished, sending Buzzari tumbling to the ground. Or he would have, if he had not woken up next to his bed, pillows and blankets strewn about. The bees were gone, but their memory yet remained. And so did a mysterious gold-and-black bracer around his wrist.

[Buzzari receives a Beetle(bee-shaped, of course) and Feather Fall with the 'Communal' Augment.]