"A Garland of Holly" (A Yuletide adventure set in Legend)

Yep, two Christmas scenarios this year. We already had Tim Harford's "The Malletta Caper" and here's a quieter and more cerebral adventure by me. This originally appeared a couple of years ago on my Jewelspider Patreon page. It's a sketchier affair than Tim's, with the expectation that the referee will shape the details to fit the campaign. Here we have a mixture of the pagan nature of magic in the Jewelspider world with the folk horror that infuses a lot of Legend scenarios. Grey heads will not fail to notice also the nod to The Avengers episode "A Surfeit of H2O", the opening scene of which blew me away when I saw it aged 8.

The honeymoon is over...

Theodor of Utherwick (29 years old, medium height, solid and dependable) should be a gentleman untroubled by cares. He has recently wed and set up a house in Cantorbridge with his young wife Epiphany (15 years old, willowy, pale, a little dreamy). He is respected for his bravery in battle, and sought after for advice because of his sober and thoughtful manner. He has prosperous interests and is lord of several manors – including, now, the village of Burstow, where Epiphany grew up.

Yet Theodor is far from being at ease. Two of his friends have died unexpectedly and suddenly. A third has become so nervous that he has shut himself away and refuses to see visitors.

How might the player-characters come into the picture? They could be relatives or friends of somebody involved. One or more of them could even be witnesses to Theodor’s and Epiphany’s wedding, which would bring the threat close to home, as we shall see.

Theodor’s story

The characters meet Theodor at his house in Cantorbridge. It is a crisp day with light, powdery snow falling to skitter in the wind across the flagstones of front path. Beyond, golden and limpid in the clear cold air, the cathedral stands above the rooftops like the ramparts of heaven.

Theodor welcomes them into a hall made snug by thick drapes and a crackling fire. ‘We always have a log from my wife’s home,’ he says, prompting a shy smile from her as she sits a little way off working at her embroidery. ‘The scent of home.’

He fills them in on what’s happened: ‘Clifford of Durnover was the first. He jumped off the parapet of his castle. They say he’d eaten bad mushrooms and they sent him mad. But not long after, Reynaud Longarm was drowned.’

‘Unfortunate. Was he a strong swimmer?’

‘He was found in the middle of a field. Stinking pools of stagnant water all around him, but this was half a mile from the nearest river.’

‘Even so, two deaths… a sad coincidence?’

‘These were found in their mouths.’ Theodor brings out a cloth and unwraps it to reveal two large husks, seed pods about the size of an apricot pit.

‘And you mentioned a third friend?’

‘A neighbour, rather. Caspar the dyer. He’s shut himself up and won’t see anyone. He gave us the covers on those chairs as a wedding present.’

‘Generous.’

‘I’m a good customer. And he was a witness at our wedding, as were the other two, so I suppose he thought a gift was in order.’

Epiphany

Epiphany sits quietly sewing throughout all this. She is a good wife by the standards of her society, where the ideal of womanhood is the Saviour’s mother: gentle, kind, modest, meek and mild.

She would not expect to be directly questioned by any of the characters, and if they do then she defers to her husband to answer. No male character will get anything more than polite remarks out of her. For anything deeper she’d have to be interviewed by a female character in private, or possibly by an elderly man or a priest who could serve as confessor. Alternatively the characters might try questioning her maidservant Joanna – but not her old governess, Sister Shila (50 years old, tough as boiled leather) who most certainly will never betray the family’s confidence.

Therefore teasing out all the details may take some care and patience.

Life stories

Epiphany was raised in the manor hall of Burstow, a village nestled into a fold in the Cullen Woods about twenty leagues north of Cantorbridge. Theodor was her mother’s cousin, and the family betrothed her to him eight years ago, when she was seven and he was twenty-one and just about to set out to Outremer.

A year later her father died in a shipwreck and her mother became deranged and had to be committed to a religious community. Her stern governess, Sister Shila, was left to bring up Epiphany until Theodor, who was also now legally her guardian, could come to fetch her.

Theodor found that Epiphany, not unreasonably, had grown up a withdrawn and otherworldly girl. With no companions except her dog, Burl, she had taken to solitary walks and long periods gazing at the books she found in an old chest in her parents’ room. With no education she had barely been able to figure out what any of the books said, but she occasionally showed pages to the local parson and in any case she enjoyed looking at the pictures.

Reasoning that his bride had to be brought back to reality by putting aside childish things, Theodor gathered up all the books and threw them out. In fact, he gave them to the priest, Father Lucian, who officiated at the wedding.

The wedding ceremony took place in Theodor’s private chapel in Cantorbridge in the presence of the old priest Lucian and four witnesses: Clifford (deceased), Reynaud (deceased), Caspar, and Theodor’s comrade in arms and best man, Kendrick of Heligston.

Secrets

Shortly after her father’s death, Epiphany came across an ancient weathered stone idol in the woods. It was nestled in a tree that had grown around it, so that the leaf-crowned countenance seemed to peer from another world. Perhaps connecting it with stories she’d half understood from scripture lessons, Epiphany thought the diadem of leaves (in fact mistletoe) on the idol’s brow was a crown of thorns and so identified it as the Saviour. She pieced together a prayer that she found in one of the books – a genuine prayer, but when recited in front of a pagan god it could equally be taken as an expression of fealty to older ways. For a while she left offerings in front of the idol, small tokens but yet enough to pierce ten centuries of stony sleep.

Years later, trying to hold onto her books when Theodor and Shila gathered them to sling out, Epiphany tore out that page by accident. She had long forgotten the idol in the woods but now was reminded of it and spoke the prayer again, this time with the force of urgent emotion, and the Wildwood Lord woke. Epiphany’s fervent prayer then was not to wed. She pledged herself instead to her ‘angel in the tree’, supposing that to be akin to the way she had been told her mother was now a bride of the Saviour.

But the passions of youth are squalls that can blow as mightily in one direction as another, and arranged marriages that start out in dudgeon or dismay can alter course towards more sympathetic feelings. Adjusting to Theodor’s presence in her life, and aware that marriage to him was her parents’ dearest wish, Epiphany came to accept the union. Perhaps in time she will even come to be glad of it. She soon forgot her prayer to the ‘angel in the tree’. But in the depths of the wood, a nature god stirred from slumber did not forget.

The Wildwood Lord considers that Epiphany has sworn herself to him. He will do away with Epiphany’s current husband and then claim her as his own. But as Epiphany has vowed before witnesses to ‘honour and obey ‘Theodor and ‘cherish and support’ him, and that conflicting vow has the force of the True Faith behind it, by the relentless logic of faerie the Wildwood Lord must first kill all those witnesses in order to free her of any other allegiance.

Clues

As mentioned above, a lone female character or a confessor could get a private interview with Epiphany and learn some of the above from her. It might be tempting to make Epiphany confident, brilliant and liberated and Theodor a bullying misogynist dolt, which is certainly what a modern 'romantasy' writer would do, but in the context of Legend's society that is neither interesting nor credible. Epiphany is fifteen. She has led a sheltered life. She has had access to books but insofar as she has any education she is largely self-taught. She agrees with the general principle that a wife should be dutiful and obedient because that’s what the Church drums into everybody.

That said, having been left to run wild for the last seven years she can be headstrong and moody, though she feels that’s wrong and she is trying to adjust to married life. No doubt her feelings towards Theodor are conflicted.

Getting Epiphany to talk about her life in Burstow should be difficult at first, but she’s artless and once she starts opening up it becomes easier. Even so, her prayer to the nature god is personal. At times she thinks it’s a sacred trust, at others a juvenile foolishness, so she is unlikely to blurt it out to a stranger. But with careful questioning she may very hesitantly confess to having half-woken in the night to see her ‘green angel’ at the foot of her bed after each killing.

The characters will also want to talk to other witnesses.

The dyer

Caspar the dyer is frightened. He was returning to town at dusk a few days ago and saw what he thought was a figure waiting near a stile. As he drew closer he realized it was a small tree covered with ivy, making it look like a person standing by the lane. But as he passed he felt a blow to the side of his head, cutting his cheek though no one was there. The next day he found green tendrils growing from under the bandage he’d applied, and now half his face is covered with ivy whose roots are deep in his flesh.

Caspar has been in seclusion for days now, praying constantly. He won’t admit his servant to his room, but sent him out to procure holy water from the cathedral. The servant is ‘Joseph’ (originally called Mahad), a Harogarnian who was liberated (if you can call it that) from Ta’ashim slavery into indentured servitude and brought back to Ellesland ten years ago. Figuring that his foreign appearance makes it risky to try filching holy water from the font, he actually brought back a bottle of river water that Caspar has been sprinkling on his foliage-covered face each day to no avail.

Unless the characters can resolve things very quickly, Caspar will be found dead in a couple of days when the plant tendrils reach his brain. The body is found with another of the seed pods in its mouth.

The priest

While talking to Father Lucian the characters will notice he lip-reads because he’s gone deaf in his old age. If they press the point he will admit that he never heard Epiphany’s vows as he was looking down at the order of service. ‘It doesn’t matter,’ he hastens to say. ‘The service is a sacrament, of course, but it is just as binding without the involvement of the clergy. I simply officiated as an old friend of both families.’

The important point is that he is not a witness to Epiphany’s vow to honour and obey her husband, and so is not one of the Wildwood Lord’s intended victims. He has therefore not been plagued by visitations such as Caspar experienced. (Or is it because he's a holy man? We will never know.)

Lucian could also be drawn into a discussion of the legality of the marriage. He discussed with Theodor a possible wrinkle in the arrangement, namely that Epiphany had not started menstruating when promised to Theodor, so arguably their betrothal eight years ago didn’t count as formally binding. Still, it was her parents’ wish, which counts in other courts than that of law, and she was seven years old which counts as the ‘age of reasonable consent’ to betrothal.

The characters may intuit from this that Theodor was uncertain whether he should wed Epiphany or not, hence his discussion with Father Lucian beforehand and his request to have Lucian at the ceremony.

The torn leaf

If they ask to see the books that Theodor gave Lucian, the characters may notice that a page has been roughly torn out of one. Part of an image remains that showed the Saviour nailed to a tree, the page bordered with a decorative motif of leaves and branches. Inspecting the rest of the book, a scholar would recognize that it consists of prayers and apocrypha with a noticeably naturistic theme – not a heathen text, but one that could be read as heathen by an impressionable or untutored mind.

The best man

Kendrick of Heligston has been at his manor house and has only just received Theodor’s letter about the deaths. He is not especially given to fancies and so doesn’t believe he’s on a list of doomed souls.

The seeds

If planted in soil, the seed pods found in the victims’ mouths sprout grey-green leaves that if worn as a garland will give some defence against the Wildwood Lord’s power.

The bride has flown

After Caspar’s death, Epiphany runs away. It doesn’t take long to find out that she’s headed back home to Burstow. Sister Shila has left a note, having set off after her. Perhaps, having changed her mind now about marriage to Theodor, Epiphany has gone looking for the torn page with the prayer written on it with some notion of taking back what she wished for. Or maybe she thinks that by offering herself to the ‘angel in the tree’ (which she must surely realize by now is not the gentle and forgiving Saviour of the True Faith) she can stop the deaths.

So the wife is drawn home to her family’s country house and the husband follows – and the characters too. And the stage is set for the final act.

Yuletide in Burstow

Theodor is learning patience. Rather than dragging Epiphany back to town, he indulges her to the extent of proposing they spend Yule at Burstow Manor. He is still very far from linking his wife to the deaths, and he thinks that spending the holidays in her childhood home may help her to adjust more readily to married life.

The villagers are happy to see their young mistress back home. She has always been an aloof figure but her parents were popular and their orphaned daughter was always an object of pity to the locals. In keeping with tradition, and to Epiphany’s delight and Theodor’s indulgent amusement, the manor hall is decorated with a garland of flowers, dried throughout the year and now woven into a long wreath that encircles the beams.

Theodor sets about throwing himself into village life, supposing that is what his wife wants. He joins in a rough-and-tumble hurling match and is injured – not seriously, but Epiphany is alarmed and rushes to his side, insisting on binding up the cut herself. The characters cannot fail to see that after the rocky start to the marriage the two of them are drawing together.

A few days before Saviour’s Day it snows. The night sky is flooded with stars. Magic is on the air in at least two flavours: pagan and dark, and that even older magic of romantic love. But the latter is a fragile spell, still in the early stages of casting. Epiphany is moody, Theodor serious and still half inclined to treat her as a child. Their future would be uncertain enough even without a nature god of olden times bringing a curse down upon them.

Kendrick arrives, having sought Theodor in town. As the roads are now thick with snow, he remains as their guest for the festivities.

The prayer

‘O lord of the living world, I beseech thee, save me from the malice of those who hate me so that their wickedness gives them no power over me and they may not use me for their ends. Guide my steps that I may walk without offending thee. Free me from the hands of my enemies, visible and invisible, above and below, and bring me into thy company, that I may serve thee evermore in body and soul. Enfold me in the arms of thy love.’

The semi-literate Epiphany has garbled this, but the core sentiment of pledging herself to the Lord she was addressing remains.

The characters

How will they find out the key info in the third act, in particular the reveal that the Wildwood Lord is going to end all this by taking Epiphany's life too, once he has freed of her of her vows to another? One way is by talking to a scholar with magical knowledge (that could even be the old nurse) or, if one of player-characters is a sorcerer, by coming across a reference in his/her own books. And of course they might come across the torn page.

The key pieces of information:

• The prayer offers the speaker body and soul to the Lord. 
• When the witnesses and Theodor are all dead, there is no rival claim upon Epiphany except for her pledge to ‘the angel in the tree’. 
• The idol is in the cleft of a tree in the woods. 
• The seed pods can be used to give limited protection against the pagan god’s minions. 
• Destroying the idol or getting Epiphany to reject her ‘green angel’ will both serve to break the Wildwood Lord’s claim over her. 

Burstow has a mischief night tradition which has servants ruling masters and wives ruling husbands. If Theodor can be persuaded to go along with the game, that provides a key to breaking the fate that the prayer has cursed them with, rather as Gawain broke the Loathly Lady’s curse by granting that she should have her own way.

The Green Man

His appearance: skin pale and greenish-yellow like stripped bark, a holly crown bleeding sap. (This needn’t involve a physical manifestation to the player-characters themselves, it could be Epiphany’s description from her dreams or a victim’s dying account.)

The characters cannot harm the Wildwood Lord himself, though they could destroy any creatures ('ympes') he sends to kill witnesses to the wedding vows. The ympes look like the skeletons of small woodland creatures held together with knotted creepers, and furred or feathered with wet dead leaves. The characters’ best bet is to resist his power long enough to find and destroy the idol or get the wife to abjure him, either of which casts him out for good.

How would they find the idol? For example, they might take Epiphany’s old dog for a walk in the woods and it leads them close to where the idol is, though they will still have to poke around a bit. Destroying the idol will banish the Wildwood Lord from this area.

Of course, it can’t be that easy. Breaking the idol begins to close the Wildwood Lord’s gateway into the present mortal realm, but he doesn’t go quietly or easily. On Yule eve, the garland begins to stir, animating into a furious thrashing serpentine form made up of flower petals, vines and twigs. If your players’ taste inclines towards the old school climactic fight, this last gasp of the Wildwood Lord will give them quite a struggle. Its aim is to slay the remaining witnesses, including Theodor, and then encircle Epiphany and draw her up the chimney (a grotesque reversal of Santa bringing presents, the players may think). If it gets to that then she’s lost, and will be found pale and cold the next day, hanging dead in a tree with mistletoe and holly binding her to the trunk. The characters could fight smart if they notice the flowers and creepers become fresh; they have only to lure the garland outside into the snow and the cold will weaken it.

But a combat might seem crass. Even so, simply to have the Wildwood Lord go without any fuss or fury is a bit of a damp squib. Rather than having the garland murderously animate, his face could manifest in it, making a last demand on Epiphany’s loyalty. It’s still a climactic battle, but now the field on which the battle is fought is the young woman’s soul, and the characters must muster arguments to keep her from giving herself to the ancient nature spirit.

If the characters fail

First all the witnesses will die, then Theodor, and finally the Wildwood Lord will come to claim Epiphany as his virgin queen of winter, dying as the year must die to make way for rebirth in the spring.

If they prevail

Quite possibly the Wildwood Lord if thwarted will exact some last vengeance. Perhaps his animated garland sets the manor house on fire; pagan gods never go quietly and are often petty. But as Epiphany watches her family home burn, shivering in the snow, her husband puts his cloak around her shoulders. The characters spend the rest of the Yule season down in the village, where Theodor and Epiphany are welcomed as guests. Out of the shared strong emotion and life-changing experiences they can grow closer together and – who knows –end up as a genuinely loving couple. It’s Christmas; even in Legend we can occasionally hint at a happy ending.

The Coronet

by Andrew Marvell 

When for the thorns with which I long, too long,
With many a piercing wound,
My Saviour’s head have crowned,
I seek with garlands to redress that wrong:
Through every garden, every mead,
I gather flowers (my fruits are only flowers),
Dismantling all the fragrant towers
That once adorned my shepherdess’s head.
And now when I have summed up all my store,
Thinking (so I myself deceive)
So rich a chaplet thence to weave
As never yet the King of Glory wore:
Alas, I find the serpent old
That, twining in his speckled breast,
About the flowers disguised does fold,
With wreaths of fame and interest.
Ah, foolish man, that wouldst debase with them,
And mortal glory, Heaven’s diadem!
But Thou who only couldst the serpent tame,
Either his slippery knots at once untie;
And disentangle all his winding snare;
Or shatter too with him my curious frame,
And let these wither, so that he may die,
Though set with skill and chosen out with care:
That they, while Thou on both their spoils dost tread,
May crown thy feet, that could not crown thy head.

Green Man images above by Llywelyn2000 (CC BY-SA 3.0) and Disdero (CC BY-SA 4.0) respectively.

Some stocking fillers

With Christmas coming up, I feel I should suggest a few presents. Christmas Eve is the perfect time for weird tales, and they don't come any better than John Whitbourn's Binscombe Tales -- the perfect blend of eeriness, wit, charm and chills. But don't overlook the same author's novel Babylondon, which I sometimes categorize as Doctor Who meets A Matter of Life & Death:

"1780, The Gordon Riots: London is on fire and in the hands of the mob. Babylon rises from the Infernal depths to replace England’s capital and rule forever. Enter the enigmatic Cavaliere, sent to sort things out, armed only with a swordstick—and frightfully good manners."

Also recommended is his short story collection Altered Englands, "where traditional ghost stories rub shoulders with alternate histories, science fiction, fantasy, and tales of the supernatural. Expect blood to be chilled, pulses to quicken, and wry smiles to be raised. Includes the concluding—and revelatory—story from the Binscombe Tales series, ‘England Expects!’"

John Whitbourn doesn't only write for grown-ups. Like many authors, he has shared the tales he told to his own children. Look for Amy-Faith & the Stronghold and Amy-Faith & the Enemy of Calm.

Also imbued with the magic we expect of the season is Roz Morris's delightful short novel Lifeform Three, in which a robot and an animal together remind the humans of the future what really matters in life. Roz also wrote a charming and quirky travel memoir, Not Quite Lost, in which the Morrises explore odd corners of the UK; think Bill Bryson with more focus on the lives and eccentricities of the people met. Of course, I'm not impartial.

Another timeless classic guaranteed to bring thrills and laughs: Jamie Thomson's Dark Lord novels. Supposedly for kids but loved just as much by grown-ups, the series makes ideal reading for Christmas.

If you're not into fiction, regular readers will remember that I have previously praised Andy Fletcher's memoir-cum-life-guide How To Back Horses & Yourself. As I put it in my Amazon review, reading it is like going for a pint with somebody who is expert in their subject and is also a dazzling raconteur who can be funny and insightful while telling you all the ins and outs of their subject.

There's nothing Christmassy about Fights in Tight Spaces, but it is a fun little game that Jamie and I have been enjoying recently, and if you're too lazy to do any shopping it has the advantage that you can just download it. It reminds me a little of the classic boardgame Gunslinger, given that your tactical moves are played in the form of cards with an action point cost (though in Gunslinger you choose the round's cards rather than having them dealt randomly and most cards can be played in more than one way). The developer is currently polishing a follow-up called Knights in Tight Spaces, which I can see myself losing many hours to.

Or what about a gamebook? Some of the best available are Martin Noutch's Steam Highwayman series, rich with enough period atmosphere, innovative fantasy, exhilarating adventure, and vivid characters to draw comparison with Dickens. Playing these is like diving into your own Christmas Day movie.

Possibly the ultimate in depth of both setting and gameplay is Expeditionary Company. This series is complex but rewards the care and attention you'll put into every detail, even down to the NPC guards you'll pick to defend your caravans: some of the NPCs are arrogant and hard to get along with but consummate fighters, others have valuable skills like healing, survival, tracking and trading. There's a huge range of downloadable extras you can find here. What would be even more perfect to turn Expeditionary Company into a Christmas gift would be if there was a boardgame adaptation (maybe a Kickstarter for 2025 there?) but with a little imagination you'll find the gamebooks are all you'll need to carry you off into a whole other world of fabulous adventures.

Another innovative gamebook is In the Ashes by Pablo Aguilera. I say gamebook, but this really is a solo RPG with a fascinating admixture of boardgame elements. I intend to talk more about both this and Expeditionary Company when I get time to analyze them in detail, but suffice it to say that In the Ashes is a physically gorgeous artefact that would make an ideal Christmas present.

Or for something visual that's both disturbing and charming at the same time, let me recommend Ryan Lovelock's brilliant Kadath Express. Ryan has provided a free digital version (hit the link) for you to try online, but consider splashing out for the hardback because it really makes a gorgeous gift.

For roleplaying into the New Year, I like the look of Postmortem Studios' Wightchester: Prison City of the Damned. It's sort of the horror reversal of Mirabilis (see below) as the comet of 1666 causes the dead to rise from their graves. The rising is worst in England, where the dead from the plague and the recent Civil War overwhelm the city of Whitchester, which is subsequently sealed up tight and walled off, becoming Wightchester. The city is now a prison for criminals tasked with reclaiming it and facing certain death from the undead should they fail. (And for further ideas to keep the campaign going once Whitchester is purged of zombies, you could do worse than plunder the imagination of Pat Mills in his comic Defoe: 1666.)

If you're looking for books of mine (and bless you, if so) then the ones I'd most recommend for Christmas are Mirabilis: Year of Wonders volume one and volume two. And if comics are not your thing, the Edwardian fantasy of the Mirabilis universe is also on show in A Minotaur at the Savoy, a collection of quirky vignettes. Or if it's a virtual stocking you're looking to fill, try the online version of Heart of Ice generously coded by Benjamin Fox.

And for viewing on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, here are a few things I've enjoyed over the years while recovering between bouts of turkey and pudding. Wine may also have been involved.

• 101 Dalmatians
• Catch Me If You Can
• First Men in the Moon
• A Ghost Story for Christmas (especially "The Ash Tree")
• Inside Number 9 (like M R James, ideal for Christmas Eve)
• Knight & Day
• The Ladykillers
• The Lost City
• Passengers
• Robin Redbreast
• Spy
• The Stone Tape
• Survivors (1975)
• The Time Traveler's Wife
• The Woman in Black (1989)

Finally, a freebie: my pulp-era SF pastiche "Cubic Capacity". It's not specifically set at this time of year but it has got a lacing of whimsy such as readers used to find in Unknown, which seems appropriate to the season, and being free it counts as a gift. I was 15 years old when I wrote the story and I'm not sure I could do it any better today. A ghost of Christmas Past, then.

"The Malletta Caper" (a Yuletide adventure set in Legend)

For the players

You are a charismatic gang of rogues, notorious all around the Coradian sea for your daring exploits – or so you like to tell yourselves. You’ve been hired by a representative of a certain Parcelus Pike, a merchant and collector of strange antiquities, usually based in the great city of Ferromaine.

Pike, however, has arranged to meet you at the small island of Malletta, long the regional base of the order of the Knights Protector. Malletta has been a vital defensive outpost against the incursions of corsairs and the occasional Ta’ashim expeditionary force. It is heavily fortified, boasts a grand cathedral and what is thought to be the world’s largest hospital – but the dusty city of Malletta has also seen more prosperous days. It is an unusual place to be deploying your distinctive gifts, but Pike has a reputation for paying well.

The Knights Protector

To give them their full name, the Order of Knights of the Sanctuary of St Zachariah. They began as a monastic order devoted to the shelter of the sick, poor and injured, then acquiring a more active role escorting and defending pilgrims to holy sites. They administer the island of Malletta as a vassal state of Algandy. The official language of the island is Bacchile, though around the docks you’ll more commonly hear lingua Coradia. The flag of the order is a white triangle on a red field, said to represent the opening of a tent, and the knights’ tabards follow the same design.

Meeting Parcelus Pike

Pike has paid for the characters to travel by ship from Ferromaine (or elsewhere) to meet him in Malletta. Upon arrival at the docks, the sights, sounds and smells of the city fill the senses: the screeching of the gulls, the shouts of market hawkers, the bustle of porters and dock workers carrying produce, the smell of spiced meats, fresh fish, and the ripe sewers of the town.

One sight stands out in contrast against the dynamic backdrop of the docks: a small figure sits motionless on a stanchion, gazing out at the ship carrying the characters. As the gangplank is lowered and they disembark, the figure – dressed in bright silks and a beret – stiffly stands and walks towards them. Although he appears to be a human male, there is something uncanny about his overly smooth and mannered movements; he wears thick makeup and will not give a name, introducing himself only as the servant of Parcelus Pike.

Should the characters follow the figure as invited – or, perhaps, refuse and then shadow him through the city streets – they will be shown to a handsome townhouse on a side street less than a half a mile from the docks.

Malletta is small, dense city built on steep, rocky slopes with a defiantly gridded street-plan. Buildings are typically terraced and three or four stories tall, gardens are scarce, and all but the largest thoroughfares are narrow alleys, the better to shelter from the fierce Coradian sun.

Pike’s house boasts ornate carved oak doors, and inside, along a corridor, it opens into an atrium with a fountain (a rare and expensive luxury in water-starved Malletta) and comfortable wicker chairs. Pike is bald, middle aged, and speaks with a stammer that might at first mask the fact that he is a confident man and the peak of his wealth and power. He introduces himself as a collector of antiquities; the characters may conclude that he is some kind of sorcerer. Who is to gainsay them?

Pike offers generous payment for what he acknowledges is risky work: he has in mind three treasures he wishes the gang to “acquire” over the next couple of days. For each one he will offer a silver ingot up front, and two more ingots when the job is complete. Within reason, he is open to negotiation.

The first job: The Feast of the Two Saints

The 24th of Yule-monath is the date of a great feast for the Knights Protector – the feast of the two saints (St Zacharias, the patron saint of the order, and St Stephanos). This is the only moment in the year when St Zacharias’s Cup, the most ancient and holy golden chalice of the order, is removed from their impenetrable vaults. Pike wants the party to obtain the chalice for him; he has made an approximate replica so that they can recognise the treasure in question, but they may also decide to use the replica as part of their attempt to steal the real thing.

In the early evening, the great cloister will be bustling with activity, as the knights roast several oxen (a rare treat in Malletta, where fish is a more common dish) and distribute their bounty to the city populace – at this stage the order’s chalices are displayed on a high balcony above the feast.

The hospital is a grand three-storey building that dominates the square where it stands. The chalice is visible in a brightly lit arched window on the top floor. (An open window, of course – no glass.) The building has a flat roof so it is possible the characters will try to reach it from there. The snag is that the chalice is clearly visible to the couple of hundred revellers in the courtyard below. Also (though this is not obvious from either ground level or the roof) there are two guards at the back of the chamber where the chalice is on display.

or, if you prefer the artistry of Bing:

Later in the evening – about 8pm – the grand banquet inside the hospital begins, for the knights and their most esteemed guests. The most ancient and holy chalice, St Zacharias’s Cup, is brought down to stand on high table in front of Grandmaster Aloysuis, Bishop Benedict and Inquisitor Paln. It will later be passed around high table (24 people) for each to take a sip in honour of St Zacharias, St Stephanos, and the recently-deceased Grandmaster Emeritus, Lucius, who was buried just a couple of days earlier. Since Pike is an influential man, it is possible that one member of the gang can secure an invitation as a guest of honour.

Complication: Three Marijah assassins have slipped into Malletta and plan to assassinate the grandmaster. They may interrupt the feasting, or alternatively may cross paths with members of the gang.

The second job: King’s Mass

Several masses will be held overnight at the cathedral of St Zacharias: the midnight mass or Angel’s mass, the dawn mass or Shepherd’s mass, and the mid-morning mass or Kings’ Mass.

At the King’s Mass, finest Kaikuhuran incense will be burned – it is blessed in a private ceremony in the cathedral vestry, shortly before the mass (sometime between 10am and 10.50am for the 11am mass). The incense may be unguarded at that moment but in any case must be taken after being blessed and before being burned, so there is a limited window for action.

Complication: After the heist last night there will be extra guards. Inquisitor Paln will be at the service and he is a formidable opponent with a number of potent prayers at his disposal.

The third job: The Fragrant Dead

Pike wishes the gang to visit the Necropolis, the vast network of tunnels under the city where the dead of Malletta have for centuries been buried. In one of the most honoured tombs, former grandmaster Lucius was buried three days ago. His body was wrapped in myrrh-infused cotton. Pike wants the cotton wrappings to be removed and brought to him. Broadly, there are two ways into the central Necropolis where the grandmaster is buried: the more direct route is through the cathedral undercrypt, but that may be guarded, especially if the gang have acquired a lot of heat over the previous 24 hours. An alternative is to go by way of tunnels that extend to sea cliffs just outside the city, but that involves more clambering around and there is a risk of getting lost.

The Necropolis is widely thought to be haunted. Pike gives the group a bronze flute and teaches them the three notes which, he assures them, will summon a djinn who will bear them to safety with their prize.

The Necropolis is indeed home to a creeping horror; the party will find that every shadow looms black, that hundreds of eyes reflect every sweep of their lantern or flicker of their torches. If they linger too long their will give into despair or madness – or if the black wisps of the shadow touch them, they will experience days of dehydration or weeks of starvation in a few moments. Severe mental harm (insanity, despondency) or physical harm (heart failure due to starvation) is likely if they cannot find a way out.

Complication: The djinn is, in fact, the strange stiff little servant who first met them at the docks. If the tune on the flute is played, the djinn will step from the shadows and offer to transport them all to safety. In truth, he lacks the power to transport the entire group – instead he will follow the instructions supplied by Parcelus Pike, finding an excuse to hold the myrrh-infused cloth and blinking back to Pike with the spoils. The group may expect this and prevent him by holding firmly onto him – in which case the djinn may be a reluctant but potent ally against the creeping darkness. Even the djinn, however, fears the shadow and may well be overwhelmed. In any case, the party must make their own way out.

Aftermath

If the group make their way back to Pike’s townhouse after the third heist, they will find it derelict – dusty, overgrown and apparently unoccupied for many years. Inside there is a silver balance. On one dish sits their agreed final payment; the other is empty, waiting to receive the myrrh-soaked shroud. If they try to take payment without placing the cloth on the empty dish, their hands will pass through the payment – it is insubstantial and illusory. However, if they fulfil their part of the bargain, the arms of the balance will level off and they can collect their treasure – at which point the balance and the myrrh will fade and disappear.

If the gang has been successful, they will have stolen holy treasures of gold, frankincense and myrrh from the noble order of the Knights Protector. They may wonder what, in fact, Parcelus Pike plans to do with these treasures – and they may be contemplating revenge against him, if they can reach his home city of Ferromaine. They will not be the only ones contemplating revenge, and would do well to avoid the attention of Sir Marco and Inquisitor Paln in future.

Notable characters

• Parcelus Pike, collector of antiquities
• Sir Marco, grizzled veteran and captain of the guards at St Zacharias’s Hospital
• Grandmaster Aloysius of the Protectors – in late middle age, somewhat soft
• Bishop Benedict – from the Cathedral of St Zacharias, a guest of honour at the feast
• Inquisitor Paln – head of Malletta’s inquisition, thin, bony and ruthless. He is a pilgrim who can speak prayers of doleful vengeance; not to be crossed

Pike will avoid direct action, but Marco, Aloysuis, Benedict and Paln will be at both the feast and the King’s Mass the next morning. There is ample opportunity for the characters to get away with one heist but then be recognised later.

* * *

Regular readers will have guessed that the scenario is by Tim Harford, our traditional guest-referee at this time of year. Last December, pressure of work prevented Tim from running his usual pre-Christmas game, so we played this one in January instead. The balmy Mediterranean-style setting, in contrast to Tim's usual backdrop of a freezing Elleslandic winter, helped us to ease back into the seasonal spirit long after the turkey bones had been picked clean.

The game system was Tim's own Forged in Annwn, a variant on Blades in the Dark set in the Dragon Warriors world of Legend. That helped push the action in a heist-narrative direction, but any set of rules would have done as well. Dragon Warriors knaves and assassins will shine, though our party also included a hunter, a barbarian from the hinterlands of Opalar, and a man who claimed to be a knight.

If you want a soundtrack, how about Mare Nostrum (Jordi Savall & Hespèrion XXI) or Musique de la Grece Antique (Gregorio Paniagua) for the scene-setting in the early parts? Or I'd be inclined, seeing as it's Christmas and hence a time for low art, to go with Buddha-Bar. In our game, Tim used Atrium Carceri for the third part in the catacombs, and very creepy it was too.

Tim mentions that Malletta is modelled on Valletta, the capital of Malta. The Knights Protector are of course Legend’s version of the Hospitallers. The island is located in the southern Deorsk Ocean on the main sea routes from the Coradian lands to Outremer. For flavour it's worth looking at Rupert Thomson's novel Secrecy, though that might provide more ideas for Ferromaine than for Malletta.

If you're unfamiliar with Legend, I know of no better summary of what it's all about than this post by Joseph Manola on the Against the Wicked City blog.

Also, Tim's books make excellent Christmas presents for intelligent and enquiring readers. Find them on Amazon US, Amazon UK, or wherever you normally shop.

Strange encounters on Surrey lanes

"It was true that there were fences and gates to be seen, so someone must have been by to place and repair them. However, apart from these tokens, if one faced the right direction, the land was free of life, and looked fit to remain so forever. The motorway had cut off these fields from what they had been before and turned them into obscure borderlands. Now they were visited only with difficulty, by those with strong reason to go there -- or else flotsam and jetsam of the road like me.

"I considered what strange things and evil deeds might be hidden in such a landscape - as remote and unwalked in its way as any Scottish mountain. There were great caverns of darkness amidst the trees capable of holding any enormity, just a few yards from Mr and Mrs Average, driving from normal A to normal B."

 
There is no greater author of English weird tales alive today than John Whitbourn, and "Waiting For A Bus" is perhaps the eeriest of all his short stories. It has won a slew of awards and if you read it on Christmas Eve with the lights turned low, I think you'll see why. And after that, when the goosebumps go down and you can steel yourself to get up from your chair, take a look at the rest of the Binscombe Tales series.

I'm glad to see that the Binscombe Tales are winning a whole new following in the States -- particularly in the South, perhaps because of the strong roots connecting our American cousins there to the old country. A case in point: this in-depth review by a lady in Alabama, but beware spoilers. And you should read John's own account of the landscape we love and which inspired the stories. I grew up nine miles away from Binscombe, in much the same ambience and environment, the main difference being that Binscombe admits to being overlooked by the Domesday Book whereas my own village, Mayford, lays spurious claim to a mention. (My roots there, or even in Surrey generally, are by no means as deep as John's in Binscombe, though it's nonetheless the foundational territory of my imagination.)

And in the same vein of goosebumps and cold grue, take a look at Tanya Kirk's collection of seasonal ghost stories for British Library Publishing, Haunters at the Hearth, with contributions by D H Lawrence, A M Burrage, James Hadley Chase, L P Hartley, Mildred Clingerman and others. If only she'd included a Binscombe Tale it would have been perfect.

Binscombe Tales can be bought in the US from Amazon or Barnes & Noble,

and in the UK from Amazon or Blackwell's.

Monsters, Aliens, and Holes in the Ground

If you're looking for a last-minute Christmas present for a friend who's interested in the history and cultural context of roleplaying games, MIT Press have just released Monsters, Aliens, and Holes in the Ground: A Guide to Tabletop Roleplaying Games from D&D to Mothership by Stu Horvath. (Now on sale from Amazon US, Barnes & Noble, Amazon UK and Blackwell's.)

It's not the kind of roleplaying analysis you tend to get here on the FL blog. What I like about playing RPGs is thinking and behaving as people unlike myself, and what interests me about roleplaying as an art form is that RPGs provide a medium for creating multi-person emergent narratives that are very different from old storytelling media with their three-act structures and whatnot.

This book comes at roleplaying from a whole other angle: the social history of the hobby along with a thorough analysis of its evolution. Gamebooks are discussed too. Be advised that Mr Horvath admits to not being fully comprehensive in his coverage; there are, indeed, holes in this ground. Empire of the Petal Throne, a big early release from TSR and a major event in original worldbuilding, is omitted because of accusations that M A R Barker held clandestine antisemitic beliefs. I have no tolerance for antisemitism myself, most especially not in view of the appalling rise in hate crime against Jews that we've seen in the wake of Hamas's terrorist atrocities on 7 October, but it is nonsensical to write EPT out of roleplaying history on that account. The art is not the artist, and the book is supposed to be a history of the hobby, not a teenager's diary. It would be like omitting Patricia Highsmith's novels from a book about the crime genre on the grounds of her antisemitism and prejudice against Black people (with the difference that Highsmith openly expressed such views). At least, thankfully, Call of Cthulhu is covered here, possibly not so much because the Cthulhu Mythos has had multiple contributors as because HPL's legacy is simply too influential to ignore.

Anyway, those are quibbles -- and frankly, while I was a big fan of Tekumel back in the day, I concede that Barker poisoned his own reputation by signing a deal with a neo-Nazi publisher (we won't get back into the unanswerable question of whether he was actually a sympathizer or just foolishly imagined he was playing them) and consequently if the rest of his work is going to get cancelled as collateral damage, knee-jerk though such reasoning usually is, Barker only has himself to blame. (Game designer Pauli Kidd makes some good points about the ensuing debate here. And if you are interested in how Empire of the Petal Throne fits into roleplaying history, here's a quick overview by Juhana Pettersson.) Meanwhile there are lots of other great roleplaying games to talk about, most of them written by unarguably decent and right-thinking folks, and Mr Horvath's well-researched and in-depth survey of the field should give you hours of interesting reading while you wait for the turkey to finish roasting.

The book does come with a pretty weighty price tag, but it sounds like it's worth it. A friend who bought a copy (he's much richer than I am) commented:

"The book is entirely commendable as an exhaustive archive save for the glaring omission of EPT. It’s a coffee table compendium and a fine gift."

I do have to point out, though, that on Christmas morning for just about the same money you could be unwrapping four Vulcanverse books or the whole Blood Sword series. Sadly there's no chance now of getting the Blood Sword 5e book this Christmas, which would have been my dream come true, but hopefully by next year... (Possibly. Maybe. Who's got the wishbone?) In the meantime let's all try and stay on Santa's Nice list.

"The Three Wanderers" (a Yuletide adventure set in Legend)

A treat my gaming group have come to expect (though hopefully never take for granted) at this time of year is a new Yuletide adventure by the multifariously talented Tim Harford. With Tim's permission I share last year's with you. Without further ado, then, here is:

THE THREE WANDERERS

On a windswept ridge in the Bleaks, visible from miles around, are three huge uneven black boulders, each at least four metres in diameter. Locals call these vast stones the Three Wanderers and will not approach. They say the three were fiends who haunted the hills in olden times, murdering travellers until they picked on the wrong victim, St Afric, and he turned them to stone.

More educated folk, of whom there are few locally, scorn the superstitions but warn travellers that those boulders are tombs, and that what was buried should not be disturbed.

Anyone who does get close to the boulders will see that there are crevices in them, perhaps just wide enough for a person to squirm through. Each crevice, however, is blocked by bars of iron, rusted but sturdy, and a chain with a silver cross is attached to the bars on each of the three rocks. It is hard to make out what, if anything, lies deeper in the crevices. Characters who shine a light down them may see a glimpse of bone, or sacking. Perhaps they will see movement – a rat, perhaps, or grass snake?

What lies within? One tale describes three sorcerers from Kaikuhuru, travelling west in search of the newborn Saviour. Some say they followed a silver moon that moved through the sky contrary to the motion of other celestial bodies. Others say they used an enchanted needle, a bone splinter hanging from a strand of a princess’s hair. Whatever the truth, they were led astray by some mischievous imp, and ventured to the wilds of Ellesland instead of the holy land. Dressed for the desert, they wandered in the northern rain and hail, vainly seeking the saviour until they perished from exposure.

Far from home, vengeful and bewildered, their spirits continued to wander the Bleaks until, centuries later, a Cornumbrian saint bound them and laid them to rest in a tomb that would contain their wanderings and their parched enchantments.

Such is the tale. What, then, when the characters approach the Three Wanderers to find the silver crosses missing, and the iron bars ripped out – from the inside?

Dramatis Personae

Crespin Thune – A wizard of no great accomplishment, but with a plan to use his limited talents to acquire the three legendary gifts of the Kaikuhuran wizards, and with those to rise in prestige and power.

Beatrice – a fallen woman. Beatrice is a serving maid (and prostitute) who works at Athgeld’s Inn, a traveller’s stop running to the south of the ridge. Crespin has paid her to serve the Saviour’s mother in his little play.

Sir Thunrulf – an aging knight, lord of Beeley Manor.

His cook, Pessimus Broil, is a blubbery mountain of a man.

Martin Marigold is the innkeeper at Athgeld’s Inn. He is famous for his hospitality, although the prices can be steep, especially for the unwary.

Grauves de Courtai – an upstart knight from Chaubrette. Crespin is paying him for assistance, but has also forged a letter purportedly from Baron Aldred declaring Grauves de Courtai the new lord of Beeley Manor. Grauves has six well-armed thugs in attendance, Hubert, Gaston, Anton, Charles, Hal and Fred.

The local devil, called Hob o’ the Well by locals. Hob is nine feet tall, with spindly arms and legs; when he drops into a crouch, however, he can conceal himself into a surprisingly small space, like a spider in the corner of a web. Hob has several uncanny abilities, including the power of illusion and the power to command animals, plants and the local weather. However he is vulnerable to the cross, and his stealthiness is sometimes betrayed by a faint reek of brimstone.

Old Katy Catkin, who earns a meal and room to sleep in exchange for cleaning and other chores around the inn. She works less and less and appears to rely more and more on the charity both of Marigold and of passersby. She is the most likely source of gossip concerning Hob o’ the Well and may also share gossip about Beatrice and Crespin (who has been paying with silver for her to attend him in his room). Katy has heard Crespin bragging to Beatrice about his plans and, unlike Beatrice herself, she has enough familiarity with folk magic to recognize the makings of a spell in their act of theatre.

Crespin’s plan

Crespin plans to break the locks that keep the three wanderers bound. He hopes to lure them to Athgeld’s Inn on Christmas Eve, where Beatrice will display her “baby” – actually a ghastly little scarecrow of daub and straw, with sky blue little robin eggs of eyes. Crespin has cast a spell over the “baby” to make it appear lifelike. This deception will, he hopes, induce the three wanderers to hand over their gifts to the infant they think is the Saviour. He can then use the three gifts as potent instruments when casting future spells.

The Wanderers

The three sorcerers are long dead, but their spirits live on, carrying a thousand years of rage and frustration. If addressed in the right way, they may recall their original pilgrimage to pay homage to a new spirit of hope in the world.

Calcifer retains the desiccated spirit of the Kaikuhuran desert; if roused to anger he strikes with hot sand and lightning. His visage is swaddled in dry sackcloth.

Shazz Ul Haq has grown a new eye each year since arriving in Ellesland. He now has nine hundred and ninety five, and to glimpse them is to go mad.

Grupus has adjusted best to the climate of Ellesland. He has become a master of mist, mire, and darkness. He is the most likely to stray far from the rocks and the party may encounter him while exploring.

The gifts

Calcifer’s gift for the saviour was a small handful of sand from the desert, in a box of ivory, a symbol of the endlessly shifting sands of Kaikuhuru and of his fealty.

Shazz Ul Haq had brought an orb of diamonds, each diamond showing a different vision of what may come to pass.

Grupus’s offering was an embalming unguent in a silver pot.

These treasures lack the awesome power that Crespin imagines and craves – their significance was largely symbolic. However, they have some value both as magical talismans and as saleable treasures.

Locations

Beeley Manor – a decaying manor house with a small study, a feasting hall, kitchen and larder downstairs, and a master bedroom and three small bedrooms upstairs. The house is fortified but vulnerable either to a determined assault or to an inside job, since there is a front door, a back door and a kitchen door.

Athgeld’s Inn – a large hostelry with a generous common room, a parlour with several snugs (where Grauves and Crespin prefer to have their conversations), a sweltering kitchen and half a dozen upstairs rooms. The Inn also has outhouses, storehouses, and a stable.

Saint Afric’s chapel – a tiny chapel on the steep slope above the road and beneath the great stones that locals call the Three Wanderers. It was Saint Afric who bound the ghosts of the three sorcerers and imprisoned them in cracks in the rocks. The chapel door is jammed – rust or ice? – but may yield to force or to patient prayer. Inside, a candle flame flickers, although there is no sign of a caretaker and everything is covered with dust – it seems to have been neglected for years. A cracked fresco shows a three part scene: three great kings following a man with a crescent on a fishing rod; the same three figures with demonic visages; Saint Afric brandishing a cross, with the three figures dismayed and prostrate.

A sufficiently successful roll on intuition suggests that the paintwork around the cross is of a different quality. Chipping away at the fresco reveals a silver cross concealed within the plaster. It has, it seems, been unearthed and buried once before. A grey hair is wrapped around the join of the cross – a relic of Saint Afric himself?

Hob’s Well – locals know of the well, and water taken from it is said to have a restorative quality provided that a suitable offering of flowers or food is placed by the well, thanks are given, and implicit permission is sought by a declaration of good intent. Without those measures the water has a bad-eggs aroma and unpleasant warmth, but will do no harm.

The well is unusually tall, more like a chimney or a little tower than a well, with the lip seven feet above the ground. To draw water requires a little agility, or fashioning some kind of perch on which to stand. Looking down the well reveals a crescent moon, reflected from the heavens. What is strange is that the crescent moon is there, day and night, whether the moon in the sky is new or full.

At the bottom of the well is a loose stone, and behind it, a sack with the three ancient treasures in it. The sack, oddly, is undecayed. Anyone brave enough to dive into the water can retrieve the moon too (the permanently shining silver crescent with which Hob lured the three scholars astray) but they may have to reckon with Hob or the local fauna – perhaps a savage pike, or a plague of worms and leeches, or an irate owl, as the referee prefers.

The Wanderers - the three black boulders described in the introduction.

Timeline of events, if the party do not intervene

Grauves and his men have demanded entry to Beeley Manor and been refused by Thunrulf and his steward. Grauves claims that Baron Aldred has appointed him lord of the manor in Thulrulf’s place, and has sworn to return with a Warrant of Possession signed by the baron.

Thunrulf sends his steward to Athgeld’s Inn to discover more. The player-characters could enter the adventure either as Thunrulf’s guests or as travellers at the inn – or both.

At the inn, there is an argument between Grauves and Crespin. Crespin sends Grauves and his men up to the rocks with a promise that they will only get the letter when they’ve done their job. The party may overhear this argument, which takes place is Crespin’s room.

Grauves and his men go up to the rocks. Crespin has equipped them with an iron spearhead of ancient Selentine design, enchanted so that it can prise the silver crosses off the iron bars.

Only five of the men return, and they are in a state of terror, having encountered Shazz Ul Haq. Grauves himself is among them, having got separated from the others in the snow; thus he was spared the harrowing encounter with the ghost.

Anyone going up to the rocks now will find the iron bars have been pulled away from the inside.

Grauves presents the three crosses to Crespin as proof of his deed, claims his forged letter, and ventures out to Beeley Manor to try to claim it from Thunrulf. Other men may go missing every time they venture out in the dark.

On Christmas Eve the three magi, now at large, will close in upon the stable at Athgeld’s Inn, to meet Beatrice and Crespin and the “baby”.

Secrets that the party may discover

The Three Wanderers are ancient sorcerers from a thousand years ago.

They were led astray by Hob o’ the Well, who put a silver moon on a stick and stole their gifts.

The moon and the gifts are concealed at the bottom of Hob’s well. The silver moon might be used to lead the sorcerers away towards the holy land.

Crespin has forged a warrant declaring Grauves de Courtai the rightful lord of Beeley Manor.

Pessimus Broil plans to do away with Martin Marigold and become innkeeper (he fell out with Marigold years ago when he worked at the inn).

There is a sacred relic concealed behind the fresco of Saint Afric’s chapel. It is one way to cow the three sorcerers.

Crespin’s magic is unlikely to fool the three sorcerers, but his enchantment to give the “baby “ a semblance of life may be more potent than he anticipates, given the forces assembling at Christmas Eve.

Motivations

Sir Thunrulf wants to retain his manor and his dignity, but is also duty-bound to protect travellers through his manor from harm – including the residents of Athgeld’s Inn.

Beatrice has been promised money by Crespin but will not risk her life once danger threatens.

Crespin hopes to fool the wanderers and secure their treasures.

The Wanderers are barely sentient now; they are malevolent after their long imprisonment but may be calmed by Beatrice and the baby.

Grauves is hoping to take possession of the manor; if thwarted he is likely to try to make trouble and resort to ordinary theft and assault.

Hob o’ the Well is bent on devilish mischief (the high flavour of mischief that does not balk at causing death or lasting injury) and highly amused by the Wanderers, although there is a risk he oversteps himself. His is only a little local devil, after all, and they are mythic ghosts.

Pessimus Broil hopes to leave Thunrulf’s service and take over at the Inn, although he has not fully thought through how this will be achieved. Murder of Martin Marigold is not impossible. He might also try to strike a bargain with Grauves.

Katy Catkin likes to gossip, knows a lot, and will easily be persuaded by some coin (or perhaps flattery or even earnest curiosity). She may relate some of the legend of the Three Wanderers. She may also point out that, although abandoned, Afric’s chapel has long seemed inviolate and protected by the Saviour.

There's yet another Yule one-shot scenario over on my Patreon page. Tim's are better, I think; he always manages to weave just the right seasonal magic. Agree? Then you should take a look at his books. Perfect Christmas gifts for the thinking people in your life:

and for kids: