Sugar Plum Yuletide (The King is Dead, Long Live the King)

Note: This adventure is based on the "Winter's Crest" module for 5e. It has been adapted for edition and level.

21 - 22 Frostkolt 348 AC

Dollis makes his way to the window and looks outside. "There must be hundreds of them!"

Grotto sees the aftermath of Raven's handiwork. Hearing the voice from outside, Grotto yells back... "Who are you? Under what authority gives you the right to attack these people with such a large force?"

The dwarf makes his way down the stairs and peers out the window. In the near distance, at the edge of the light cast by the inn's lanterns he sees a tall broad figure, a pale white giant dressed in a robe of red autmunal leaves, a staff in his hand. He is flanked by dozens, not hundreds of what he called his "elves", gaunt angular ceatures with red eyes and savage, hungry grins all dressed in green and red. A lean, silver-haired figure clad in armor that glints like fish scales in the light stands beside him.

Raven looks outside, "I don't know the red one but that," he points at the armored figure, "is Sir Lijon, one of the River King's 'knights'. I should have killed him when I had the chance."

Dollis sputters. "That 'red one' is the Winter King. Were you not listening to my ballad?"

By this point, Grotto searches the bodies of the dead for clues to who they might be and for any worthwhile loot. Aside from their weapons and armor, they seem to be carrying nothing of value.

Raven looks to the father and son. "This Winter King said he was here for a boy. Do you two have something to do with this?"

The father shakes his head, "No, Luka and I have near that man before!  Whoever he is after, it isn't my son!"

Grotto looks at Luka sternly, "Luka, are you keeping something from your father? Think carefully as it is obvious that your life depends on it! Do you know why you are being pursued by the Winter King and his many minions?"

The scared boy looks back at the dwarf, "No! Nothing! This is the farthest I've ever been from the palace! I don't even know who this Winter King is!"

Luka's "father" hisses, "My prince... your identity..." The man pauses. "Nothing to be done for it now. I am Furell, Chief of the Prince of Ironford's bodyguards. I brought His Highness to Womford to observe the Yuletide festival. His father wanted his son to get to know his subjects but feared if he came himself, the boy wouldn't get a true impression of the people."

Raven scowls.  "Who knew you would be here?"

Luke shakes his head, "No one aside from my father and Furell!"

A new voice calls from outside, "Oh, Sugar Plum! Come on out. Surrender the boy! There is no reason for you to spend the lives of everyone in that taproom!"

Grotto glares at the father and son in displeasure of the ruse they attempted. "Well, it sounds like there are spies in the palace as we are being beckoned once more!"

Grotto looks to Raven, "What else do you know about these people stalking us? If you say you should have killed them while you had the chance, they will not leave here with anybody alive. Sounds like they have a score to settle with you as well! By the looks of it, we are out numbered at least 50 to 1!"

Raven shrugs, "I have no idea who this Winter King is and have no quarrel with him although since Ljion is here, I suspect he is another Faerie Lord. Ljion I met at the court of the River King and upset an invasion he planned for the Prime Material Plane. Looks like he took it personally."

Raven stops and looks at his dwarf friend. "I don't really get how this whole 'Faerie mantle' thing works but I really don't want to add another to my collection. I'm trying to get rid of the one I already have!"

A sly grin flashes across Grotto's face. He takes his axe close to his chest such that it resembles the holy symbol of Hanseath upon his armor. He kisses his divine weapon then looks to Raven again, "Shall we go have a little parlay with your friends out there?"

Raven nods, "Yes. I think we shall." Raven looks over his shoulder at the others, "The rest of you stay inside."

"Let's go make some good trouble then!"

The scarred dwarf and the Sugar Plum Fairy step outside. Their boots crunch in the snow as they walk over to where the Winter King, Sir Ljion, and the dozens of fey servitors of the king are standing.

The Winter King draws himself up to his full height, towering over the two adventurers. "Greetings, Sugar Plum. I was sorry to hear of Queen Marie's passing. She was a good friend of mine. I assume that you are here to negotiate a surrender of the boy. There is no need. Send him out and the rest of you may go free. I am magnanimous enough to also forego the wereguild for killing my servants."

Ljion smiles, "Yes, Sugar Plum, give us the boy. This business is none of your concern."

Grotto readies his axe and says, "You made it our concern when you stormed the the tavern with murderous intent. Consider any occupants within under our protection!"

ROUND ONE

"A pity," the Winter King grumbles. "I had hoped it wouldn't come to this. You shall be judged." The giant fey's eyes flash with white light and the air in front of him ripples with a cone of unseen energy that washes over Grotto and Raven.

Both are engulfed in a storm of memory. Grotto feels the shame of being enslaved by goblins, the pain of them burning his face and melting his ear, the sorrow of being unable to stop his brother from being killed in a food riot in the slave pens, the loneliness, the ache for a loving touch...

Raven feels guilt - he relives watching his father die at ogre hands, the innumerable companions killed fighting at his side over nearly two decades of adventuring, his cousin Valmiss being drawn through a portal into the Nine Hells...

Both adventurers are driven to their knees, the pain of their losses and failures nearly unbearable. Ljion laughs and leaps into the fray, rapier in one hand and dagger in the other. He drives the point of his rapier into Raven's chest. The mithral shirt worn under his flowing green coat stops the blade from biting into his flesh but the impact shocks the elf back into awareness.

Grotto snarls and rises to his feet. His axe swings in a grand arc, chopping into the nearest of the Winter King's elves. Blood sprays and the dwarf strikes again, forcing the minion back. The wounded creature continues to smile and spits blood as it pulls out a wickedly notched axe of his own and launches a pair of its own attacks. Both blows strike him in the chest but his thick armor turns them aside. A second elf moves to the side, making sure to keep out reach. He touches his thumbs together, fingers spread, and barks out a single arcane word. Ice sprays from his fingers and strikes Grotto in the face, freezing his skin and coating him with a layer of frost.

Meanwhile a half-dozen elves rush past the two adventurers, racing toward the inn.

Raven had hesitated. Overly concerned about acquiring another mantle, he hadn't acted swiftly enough, leaving innocent lives at risk. Sir Ljion circled, laughing, his blades bared, taunting him. Something inside the warrior snapped and he rose, Nightwatcher and Thorgrim appearing in his hands as if by magic.

He spun, pouring his rage into his swings. His first slash was wild, unbalanced and went wide, missing the nearest of the Winter King's minions. The second blow took off both of the savage elf's legs. His momentum carried him through to a second attacker, tearing a long gash across its back. A thrust from Thorgrim's cold iron blade ended that elf as well. His back swing felled a third as the final three rushed past.

More of them charged, racing toward him and Grotto and the inn behind them.

ROUND TWO

The Winter King, seeing the Sugar Plum Fairy engaged by Sir Lijon, turns his attention to Grotto. He takes a single step back to place himself out of the dwarf's reach and raises a hand. Electricity  crackles around his upraised fist and he slams it down in the dwarf's direction. Lightning arcs from the Fey Lord into Grotto, blasting the dwarf. Grotto twists aside, partially avoiding the blow but the shock singes his armor, leaving smoke trailing from the dwarf's body beneath.

Ljion Troutscales circles Raven, laughing and begins to taunt the warrior, "You still haven't figured it out, have you? We've been watching - ever since you killed Flax, waiting for our chance, arranging everything you've been through today."

Raven snarls. "I gave Flax the chance to surrender. I told him your River King had called off the attack but he wouldn't stop. I did what I had to!"

The fey knight laughs again, "Nobody cares. Ellessandra wants you punished for killing her son. She will have her due and I will have your head and your mantle!" Ljion lunges, driving his rapier at the elf in a flurry of thrusts. Raven gives ground, allowing the warrior to pursue him as he backs toward the inn, swatting aside the attacks.

Grotto grits his teeth, trying to focus on summoning a ghostly axe from Hansesth to aid him in battle but the pain from the lightning bolt is simply too much and he loses the spell as he is mobbed by Yule elves. The one who sprayed his face with ice continues to stay out of reach and tries another spell, this one a fan of multicolored light that washes over the dwarf. Grotto manages to shield his eyes with his axe, raising it like a shield to protect his face but two other warriors leap into battle. He fells one but the second rakes the dwarf with his clawed hands. Sparks fly and Grotto shoves him back, buying a few precious moments to plan his next move.

The three elves racing toward the inn crash into the door. Guildar and Furell brace the door with their bodies, stopping the advance but two jump into the windows, shattering the glass. Hazel screams and falls back, shoving Luka along behind her and starts overturning chairs while the boy pulls a dagger from his belt, gripping it in trembling hands. Dollis, the minstrel runs to a side door and throws it open, yelling for the fey to come around.

Another four rush Raven, trying to cut him off from reaching the inn. They come at him with hatchets but the elf crouches and spins, slashing at each with his own blades, cutting them down with deadly prescion.

Raven breaks into a run, charging toward the elf battering the door of the inn. Ljion scores another hit, this one on his back but once again, his armor protects him. He leaps into the air, impaling the Yule Elf with Thorgrim and yanks him backwards, hurling its lifeless body to the snowy ground.

ROUND THREE

The Winter King scowls as his minions fall. He levels his staff at Grotto and unleashes a flat wedge of snow, much like the first one only far more powerful. Grotto sees the weapon aimed his way and begins racing to his left to avoid the strike. He is still struck by the edge of the magic. He stumbles slightly as his leg goes numb with cold but presses on.

Ljion saunters after Raven, "Come now, Sugar Plum, surely you don't think you can defend these people against all of is, do you? Surrender the boy. I know that he didn't disrespect the Winter King but he is probably guilty of something. Be reasonable." As Raven absorbs what Ljion just said about Luka, the duelist lunges at him. The fighter is able to dodge or parry each blow.

Inside the taproom, there is absolute chaos. Guildar and Luka's bodyguard, Furell try to fend off the inn's attackers. They are forced back to the bar and wield stools to defend themselves. The dwarf takes a hit across his left arm while the guard is struck mid-thigh. Luka manages to slip from Hazel's grip and runs at Dollis, screaming for him to close the door. The minstrel laughs and clubs the young prince across the face with his lyre. The boy falls to the ground, dazed and bleeding.

The Yule Elf that has been casting spells at Grotto raises his hands for another spell, thumbs together once again. Grotto curses and switches his weapon to his left hand while drawing another axe. The cold spell does little to slow him and neither do the claws of his attackers.

Five of the Yule Elves slide to a stop instead of rushing straight into Raven's deadly blades and fit arrows to bowstrings. All loose their shots almost as one. Raven twists his blades and spins his body away from the inn door. He manages to avoid the arrows, which strike the entryway, causing ice to spread all over the outside of the door.

Grotto hurls the second axe at the elf battling him with spells. The blade tumbles end over end and slams into the caster, crumpling him instantly.

Raven throws a glance over his shoulder and sees the patrons being attacked by the elves. He yells to Grotto and then rolls backwards through one of the broken windows. He hurls Thorgrim like an oversized dagger. The cold iron blade pierces one of the elf's backs. He screams and thrashes, trying desperately to knock the blade loose. Guildar hefts a barstool and brings it crashing down on his stricken attacker.  Furell grabs the hilt of the giant-slaying sword and pulls it free before slashing the elf across the face, dropping him to the taproom floor before turning to face his other attcker. Hazel breaks from cover and runs over to Luka, cradling the young prince's head in her lap as Dollis continues to call the elves around to the side of the building.

ROUND FOUR

"You are a tough one, aren't you?" The Fey Lord chuckles softly. "Let us see how you fare against this!" The Winter King levels his staff again and unleashes a blast of absolute cold at Grotto. The two elves tearing at him with their claws are flash frozen in an instant. Grotto brings up his axe, using the wide, double-bladed head as a shield. The cone of cold washes over him, chilling his body and leaving him struggling to draw breath through frozen lungs. He spits up a mouthful of blood, pain wracking his body, eyes nearly caked shut with ice.

Ljion Troutscales grabs the edge of his cape and draws it around himself. He vanishes in a cloud of smoke and reappears an instant later behind the bar.

Grotto spits more blood. He staggers forward a single step and hurls his returning axe at the Winter King. The axe strikes true, clipping the massive fey's left arm before flying back to Grotto's hand.

The last Yule Elf still inside the taproom lunges at Furell. His axe scores a shallow graze against the guard's lower abdomen. Frost spreads from the wound and Furell stumbles, catching himself on a table to keep from falling.

One of archers who had fired at Raven runs to the door of the inn and begins ramming it with his shoulder. The other four reach the two front broken front windows and fire arrows into the taproom. Furell is struck in the arm and tumbles to the ground, Thorgrim slipping from his hand. Guildar raises his stool, blocking one arrow while the other goes wide. The final shot strikes the back wall, eliciting a shout from Dollis.

Raven leaps kicks a chair into the legs of the axe-wielding elf. The elf briefly loses his balance, giving Raven the opening to take its head off with a powerful swing of Nightwatcher.

Hazel calls for help from across the room. Dollis has grabbed the unconscious prince and is dragging him toward the door with Hazel struggling to stop him.

ROUND FIVE

After being struck with Grotto's axe, the Winter King roars in pain and stalks toward the dwarf, his feet leaving no tracks in the snow and raises his staff. He swings twice but Grotto manages to bring his axe up to deflect the blows.

Ljion slips over the bar, silently moving up behind Hazel. He looks over at Raven, eyes gleaming with delight and smiling widely as he grabs her by the hair and presses the tip of his rapier against her back. "Surrender, Sugar Plum. We are taking the boy."

More arrows fly into the room as the archers continue their assault. Guildar manages to flip one of his tables onto its side and hunkers down behind it. The innkeeper grabs the dropped Thorgrim.

Grotto prays to Hanseath for the power to heal himself. The Winter King lunges, thrusting with his staff as if it were a spear. Grotto sidesteps the blow and lands one of his own. At the same time, he releases the enchantment stored within the blade - tripling damage he would have caused.

Back inside the taproom, Raven's grip tightens on Nightwatcher's handle. "Why do you want him," the swordsman asks.

Ljion laughs, "Ellessandra will raise him as a replacement for her murdered son. He shall fill Lord Flax's position."

Raven narrows his eyes, "And what about the Winter King's judgement?" He slowly eases his way forward, angling to make an unobstructed path to Ljion.

"Someone who knows what you are capable of may have told the King that the boy disrespected him," the fey knight smiles, "and gained a small army to keep you busy. But, more than that. We arranged for a hedge witch to find a cursed idol with a demon trapped inside. We gave that dragon directions to a bakery in the mountains. We even promised this idiot bard a boon for his aid."

Dollis stops pulling on Luka's arm and looks up at Ljion. "Hey," he shouts, clearly offended.

Raven's eyes drop to Hazel. The old woman lets go of Luka and reaches for his dagger. Her fingers close around it and she stabs down into Ljion's foot. Her blow isn't strong enough to pierce the faerie's boot but it does distract him long enough for Raven to cross the room.

Nightwatcher crashes into the knight's scale armor, knocking him backwards into the wall. Troutscales stumbles back, clutching his chest.

ROUND SIX

The Winter King staggers back from Grotto's axe strike. He focuses his gaze on the dwarf once more and his eyes glow. That same invisible ripple of energy washes over the priest of Hanseath but this time, Grotto's anger shields him from the mental assault, allowing him to shake it off with much less effect.

Sir Lijon grabs the corner of his cape and steps into it, vanishing from view. He reappears somewhere outside and calls out, "We'll be watching you, Sugar Plum! This is not over!"

Yule elves surround Grotto, slashing at him with axes and daggers but he either blocks their blows with his axe or allows his armor to absorb the brunt of their blows.

The archers continue firing arrows into the tavern, as much to force the defenders to remain behind cover as to actually hit anyone. Guildar's table is peppered with shots but the thick wood shields him and Furell from the attacks.

Grotto swings his spell storing axe again. The double-bitted weapon slices a silvery arc and comes down heavily on the king's left thigh. By silent act of will, Grotto releases the final spell contained within the axe. What would have been a glancing blow erupts in a fountain of blood. The Winter King roars in pain as Grotto drives at him with another mighty blow, this second chop severs the leg at the knee and the king falls. As the fey lord lays in the snow, his life's blood pouring out, his eyes begin to glow one last time. A ball of energy coalesces above his chest, twisting and swirling for a moment before strands begin peeling off. The wisps flow toward one of the Yule Elves, who breathes it in.

The elf's grin fades and a beard begins to grow from his cheeks and chin. Extending one hand, the fallen King's staff floats over to him. The weapon shrinks until it is sized to fit its new owner's stature. The new Winter King calls out, "HOLD!"

All of the Yule Elves stop in their tracks and turn, bowing to their new liege. He turns to Grotto. "You have fought well, dwarf. My forces shall withdraw."

As the fey knight escapes into the darkness, Raven closes on Dollis and slams him on top of the head with Nightwatcher's pommel, dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

With the traitorous bard unconscious, Raven reaches into his jacket and produces a pair of potion flasks, dropping them into Hazel's lap, "One for the boy, one for his bodyguard." He turns, "Guildar! My sword!" The bartender throws the cold iron blade to the warrior who snatches it with his free hand as he leaps out of the window.

Grotto continues to throw his returning axe at nearby evil elves still facing him. Grotto does not trust the words of the king or his henchmen. But the Yule Elves fall back, doing their best to avoid being struck down as they retreat.

Afterwards, Grotto searches the body of the fallen king. The two adventurers set the fey's possessions to one side.

He then says to Raven, "This cannot stand. We must pursue this king and his minions. They will be back for the boy and seek revenge against those inside."

Raven holds up one hand to forestall the dwarf's line of thought. "Those elves are more likely to pursue Sir Ljion. They would have overheard his confession of betrayal while he was gloating. These people have nothing to fear."

"Well, at least let me be the bad cop as we question that treacherous bard. Seems he sold us out for the promise of a few coppers!"

"You said you had dealings with Sir Ljion one before and wished you would have dealt with him then. Let us also go after him!"

Grotto says to his friend as they walk back to the Tavern.

"I have no means by which to pursue him. I can only travel between the Prime Material Plane and my Lodge and then back to where I left the Prime. The next time I cross paths with him, he will die."

"I don't understand? How does this Sir Ljoin travel?" Grotto asks, perplexed.

"Faeries, or at least their nobles, can skip between the Planes using pathways they call 'the Ways'. They open a gate, step through, and come out somewhere else. It's like when a wizard travels to the Astral or Ethereal Plane and from there to an Outer or Elemental Plane."

Grotto scoops up the loot, and says t Raven, "Maybe our wizards can give us some insight about these items. Perhaps they will come in handy for our party!"

Raven nods in agreement before the pair head inside. A brief questioning of Dollis reveals that Sir Ljion had offered with a magical lyre if the bard helped capture the prince.

At sunrise the next morning, Marzipan is waiting on the front steps of the inn. After a brief stop at the Sugar Plum Lodge, the two adventurers are returned to the waterfront in Silvanost from whence they were plucked.

- END -