The elves lead you from the Great Hall to the Even Greater Hall. Along the way, you have to go through a cursed-looking cinderblock stairwell lit only by a single, guttering fluorescent light.
“We keep meaning to have this fixed up,” says Chordette, apologetically. “The rest of the Christmas Palace is much nicer, fear not.”
The light dies completely for a few seconds, during which there’s a thud and a muffled cry. When it comes back on, Tiny Tim is dead, with a sceptre-shaped dent in the crown of his hat, and also the crown of his head.
Tiny Tim (Hoho) has died. He was an Aspiring Santa (Vanilla Town).
You watch his tiny, limp form slowly thump down the steps, oozing glitter onto each one.
“None of you saw that,” says Chordette. “All you have to do is BELIEVE.”
You make it the rest of the way up the stairs with no one else dying. A grungy door leads to an improbably opulent dining hall.
A vast feast is arrayed across many tables. There’s chicken! There’s fish! There’s fish (other)! You try not to stare at that one; it makes you dizzy. A bunch of very formal elves are blocking your path.
“Greetings!” says an elf in a business suit. “I am Glomar Evergreen, current chancellor of the Yuletide Council. And-”
“And I,” says the elf immediately to his left, “am Gazprom Snowdrift, former chancellor of the Yuletide Council. So ni-”
“So very nice,” says Glomar, “to meet you.”
The tension is crystalline.
“Why don’t all of you introduce yourselves,” says Chordette, in a bright monotone.
“I’m Merwina Navidad,” says a young woman with exceptionally thick glasses. “Elder Meteorologist. I help predict weather patterns for present deliveries. Most of my equipment was salvaged from a radar base the Americans built on Greenland during World War II; it’s really quick fasci-”
“I’m Jingles McCoy,” says the next elf, loudly, “the North Pole’s Surgeon General. I smell cigarette smoke. Which one of you has been smoking?”
“It was her,” says Joe Camel, pointing to the little match girl.
“‘TWASN’T!” she cries.
“WOW,” says Robot Santa.
“Young lady,” says Jingles McCoy, kneeling to her eye level, “do you know that smoking causes over 100% of smoking-related deaths?”
“No, sir,” she says, timidly.
“Well see that you do!” he barks, and steps back.
“I’m Bev,” says a middle-aged woman next to Jingles. “Just Bev is fine, thanks. I’m in charge of raw materials. You wouldn’t believe how many trees you can sneak out of Canada before they notice.” She cocks an eyebrow. “Kids still like wooden toys, right? Be honest with me.”
There’s a muttered chorus of “oh, sure”s.
“Phew! Well that is a relief. Anyhow, come see me if you want to learn how to run a turret lathe.”
“Greetings,” says a dandyish man, doffing his holly-ringed straw boater. “I am Eustace Marmalade, and I handle accounts receivable…”
After about 20 more minutes of this, you realize the Yuletide Council has like 50 members and they almost all hate each other or themselves. Finally, after meeting Fiona Applecrisp, Head Motor Pool Technician, you are allowed to sit down and eat. The food is somehow below room temperature.
“Are we really supposed to pretend we didn’t see Tiny Tim die?” asks Kevin McCallister, eating croutons out of the box.
“Kid, there’s a lot of that in life,” says Frank Cross, pouring gravy on a bowl of Cheerios. “You gotta acclimate early and then hang on.”
“I have both acclimated and not acclimated,” says Dr. Manhattan. “Christmas bores me.”
“Give me a nickel for making me hear that,” says Lucy.
Beside her, Joe Camel stares bullets across the room at Surgeon General Jingles McCoy.
“I wanna kill that guy so bad,” he hisses.
Glomar Evergreen stands and clinks a fork against his can of Mr. Pibb.
“If I may have your attention, please-”
“No,” yells Scrooge, mouth full of fish (other). “I’m eating.”
“Well,” says Glomar, “the rest of you, then. The time has come to read Mrs. Claus’ will, which was unsealed just last week. She asked that it not be opened for a century after her death, and the time is here. Was here. A week ago.” He coughs and unfurls a yellowed scroll.
“‘I, Mrs. Jennifer Claus, being of sound body and mind, do hereby make the following my will.
“‘First, that if no blood heir to mine and Mr. Claus’ possession and enterprise be found within one century’s time, that a group of 20 – 30 good-hearted people shall be chosen by the elves and brought here to the North Pole.
“‘Second, that these good-hearted people undergo such trials of worthiness as the elves or circumstance see fit, until such reduced number remain that they can comfortably elect a new Santa Claus from within their ranks.
“‘Thirdly, that this new Santa Claus, whoever they be, shall inherit all the possessions and enterprise necessary for the giving of toys to good little children each Christmas.'”
“Still eating,” yells Scrooge.
“And that is why we have brought you here,” says Glomar, attempting a beatific smile. “One of you is to become the new Santa Claus and inherit the joys and labor of Christmas for a millennium.”
One of you, in fact, feels a sharp stinging in their leg, and surreptitiously glances under the table. Huh. Someone has stabbed them with a butter knife, which is still stuck in the wound. What a terrible murder attempt! This thought clouds the victim’s mind. Christmas sucks! they think. I hate it here!
And slowly, from a seed of anger so small they never knew it was there, Santa’s illegitimate child turns to the dark side of Christmas.
Santa’s Illegitimate Child is now IMPURE OF HEART (a WOLF).
Dessert is knockoff Pop-Tarts slathered in cake frosting. Then you’re packed off to an absolutely terrifying dormitory in an unused wing of the building.
“I’m trying to like it,” says Rod. “Any chance you could turn on the heat? Or turn down the spiders?”
Chordette grimaces. “I don’t think so. But! If you believe-”
“UH-UH,” shouts the little match girl, waving a fistful of unlit matches in Chordette’s face. “NO FUCKIN’ WAY. TURN THE HEAT ON OR I BURN THIS PLACE.”
“God, fine,” says Chordette. “I can bring you some defective toys for the fireplace. Okay?”
The little match girl narrows her eyes and nods her head imperceptibly. And so, with a roaring fire made out of defective toys (don’t worry, not the ones that can talk), you go to sleep. The spiders all come down from the walls and curl up on you, and it would be adorable if you liked spiders.
When the bell sounds for breakfast, however, one of you doesn’t wake up.
Gerald Loggins (Raven and Rose) has died. He (they) were a SANTA ASPIRANT (Vanilla Town) and will never make it back to his beloved stepson.
“Wow,” says “Dave.” “He let Timmy down one last time. Rip.”
- April LKD / Kevin McCallister
- Demyx / Lucy Van Pelt
- DW / Venom
- E-Dog / Evaneezer Scrooge
- Emm / Florence, the Little Match Girl
- Flubba Gunto / Red, of the California Raisins
- Goat / Forky
- Grumproro / Jack Frost
Hohopossum / Tiny Tim Possum– Vanilla Town
- Indy / Dude Love
The Landstander/ Vanilla Town
- Lindsay / Mario Santa
- Mars Five / Xmars Five, Cyborg
- Mayelbridwen / Comet, the Wonder Reindeer
- Mr. I’m My Own Grandfather / Robot Santa
- MSD / Rod the Puppet
Raven and Rose / Gerald Loggins– Vanilla Town
- Sic Humor / Tobias, a Make-A-Wish Santa
- Side Character / Catbug
- Spookyfriend / “Dave,” Morally Ambiguous Man Wearing This Sweater
- Subsaharan / Dr. Manhattan
- Sukaluski / Ambiguous In-Flight Meal
- Tobias Morpheus / Joe Camel
- Wasp / Carol
- 15 Pure of Heart (TOWN)
1613 Santa Aspirants (Vanilla Town)
- 1 Yule Sleuth (Investigator)
- 1 Christmas Prince/Princess – Constitutional Monarchist (vigilante)
- 1 Krampus (serial killer)
- 5 Impure of Heart (WOLVES)
- 4 Elf Cronies (Vanilla Wolves)
- 1 Santa’s Illegitimate Child (recruited by the wolves, now evil)
- Win conditions:
- The wolves win when they are equal to the number of town-aligned players left (if the SK(s) are dead), or outnumber the non-wolf players (even if the SKs are still alive).
- Town wins when all the wolves and the serial killers are defeated.
- The serial killer(s) win when it comes down to just them and one other person. NOTE: If the Christmas Prince(ss) chooses Anarchy and becomes an SK, they and Krampus are NOT aligned.
- A three-way standoff between the last town, last wolf and one or both SKs will result in a special ending.
- Night actions:
- There isn’t a hard order that night actions occur in. This is to allow as many of them to go through as possible. Roleblocks (if applicable) will always take precedent over the actions of the targeted player, however.
- Yule Sleuth: All town forces come back NICE, all scum come back NAUGHTY. If the Yule Sleuth scans Santa’s illegitimate child the same night they’re recruited, the Yule Sleuth gets an error message about moral ambiguity.
- Depending on the alignment they choose, the Christmas Prince(ss) cannot roleblock or jail the same person two nights consecutively (or jail themselves).
- You have the option to vote “No Kill” (or words to that effect). If that option prevails, no one dies at the end of the day.
- A majority vote for one player (or No Kill) will end the day early.
- A tied vote at twilight will result in no one dying.
- There are no secret powers or win conditions in this game. Any changes I have to make to the mechanics will be announced publicly.
- No editing posts.
- No quoting or screencapping from your QTs.
- If you have any other questions about rules, please ask in QT, and I will answer publicly here.
Day 2 will end Friday, December 6 at 2 p.m. EST.