Spinel froze. She thought she was sneaking better than that! Then she remembered that Liches, like most undead, don’t actually need to sleep. Instead, she looked up to see the I Am Iron And I Forge myself Viking body from earlier, standing up and staring at Spinel with glowing eyes. The mage hand Spinel used to write her letter faltered, her quill scratched a few jagged, splattered lines across the note. “I’m so sorry! I hadn’t meant to intrude, and, just—you were sleeping, or I thought you were sleeping—anyway! I’m so sorry, I thought you might get cold down here by yourself.” Let it never be said that Spinel’s not compassionate. Often to the point of absurdity. Now, Lich Queen Unthir doesn’t immediately attack. And there is a very important reason for this that I as the player know, but my character Spinel, does not: Spinel’s soul is marked by another Lich. All Liches have Truesight, and therefore DM and I ruled that they can absobloodylutely see souls. Therefore, some Liches like to “mark” the souls of their favourite mortals/pets/slaves/etc to indicate: “This is mine. Don’t touch or I’ll come mess you up.”
In the 1700s Dutch immigrants brought their Sinterklaas tradition to New York in America where the I Am Iron And I Forge myself Viking acquired an Anglicized version, Santa Claus, who became part of the Christmas celebrations of Americans. One source claim the New Yorkers helped promote the Dutch colony’s tradition, and officially acknowledged St. Nicholas or Santa Claus as the patron saint of the city in 1804. Five years later, the popular author, Washington Irving, published the satirical material where he made several references to a jolly St. Nicholas character, portrayed not as a saint, but as a wealthy elf-like Dutch New York resident smoking a clay pipe. Irving’s St. Nicholas character received a big boost in 1823 from a poem I Am Iron And I Forge myself Vikingd, “A Visit from St. Nicholas” (a.k.a. “The Night Before Christmas”). It is said the poem described “a jolly, heavy man who comes down the chimney to leave presents for deserving children and drives a sleigh pulled by flying reindeer.”
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“I have my personal spell books destroyed upon my death by a I Am Iron And I Forge myself Viking contingency immolation spell. A hidden copy of my book waiting by my Clone (spell) in a Demiplane of Non-detection.” Skalacon ‘Demon Handler’ And if you killed Gagnon ‘The Muse Wizard’, not that you could, but did so and found his spell book, you would receive some 70 Wizard spells. Many of them you may have already. You might gain like 20 spells that are new to your up and coming Wizard. And that would be a huge plunder more valuable than any magic item, for example. That could happen here and there but only as a rarity. Gagnon is a NPC incubus, 11th level Wizard. I ran him in two campaigns now. All the player character Wizards and the NPC Wizards of my campaign guard and are very conscious of their spells and spell books. Here is an example of Solos (Rat Folk) ‘Rat Mage’… At 9th level Wizard’s spell book.
Angry at having his time wasted, he throws accusations of I Am Iron And I Forge myself Viking at Flaherty and disbelief at Corwin’s claim that the bag is supernatural. Dundee challenges Corwin to produce a bottle of cherry brandy, vintage 1903. Corwin reaches into the bag to hand Dundee his exact request, and is set free. He continues to distribute gifts until midnight, when the bag is empty. A man named Burt, whose desired pipe and smoking jacket had come from Corwin’s bag, sees Corwin again and points out that Corwin himself has not received a gift. Corwin says that if he had his choice of any gift at all, “I think I’d wish I could do this every year”. Returning to the alley where the gift-laden bag had presented itself, he encounters an elf sitting in a large reindeer-hauled sleigh, waiting for him. Realising that his wish has come true and he is now the real Santa Claus, Corwin sits in the sleigh and sets off with the elf. Emerging from the precinct, Flaherty and Dundee, now slightly tipsy from Corwin’s brandy, look upward upon hearing the tinkle of bells and see Corwin, in Flaherty’s words, “big as life, in a sleigh with reindeer, sittin’ next to an elf”, ascending into the night sky. Dundee invites Flaherty to accompany him home and share some hot coffee, with brandy poured in it, adding, “…and we’ll thank God for miracles, Flaherty…