The curiosity first known simply as The Tower created a disturbance throughout Thunkgaria. Rumors swirled of elfin forms acting against elfin ways, snow assuming demonic action, and even an aged human directing the chaos. Thunk did not immediately place stock in these rumors. Folk often expressed their weariness of swamps, forests, and caves in ways he did not find warranted. It was never his place to spin the tales; he only helped and sought help as needed
With this in mind, Thunk was not over cautious as he approached the tower. Yes, the ents had a slightly different look to them. Yes, the spikes of ice around the entrance radiated a warning he could not quite articulate. This is Thunkgaria; what dark area doesn't radiate a fearful warning? Notably different around the tower was the air. It was the same breeze that always kept the air fair within even the swamplands, but there was a brighter scent. Sharp and sweet as he inhaled it, Thunk was sure someone was making peppermint in The Tower. He had dealt with evils far worse than peppermint manufacturers
In the distance, only feet after entering the tower, Thunk first saw the small men. Elfin, yes, but they did not seem evil and made no movement toward him. As he approached, he found them to be neither elf, nor man, nor goblin. This collection of snow monuments didn't have the appearance he had expected when he first heard the folk speaking of snow demons. It seemed all the rumors amounted the joyful play of children. As was his duty, Thunk continued further into the tower
His hair prickled as he heard what sounded like a stifled giggle behind him. He turned just in time to catch the first solid ball of snow between his eyes. So forceful was the impact, his helm clattered to the floor behind him. Leaving it, he rushed away from the icy bombardments and wandered the tower for hours afterward and found all manner of strange elves and strangely decorated goblins
A booming "HO HO HO" echoed from somewhere near the top of the tower and filled him with dread. This was not a cheerful menace born of local children's idle hands. Outlanders had sometimes told stories of their "Santa" and his privacy destroying winter visits. Santa was here now, and this was his tower. Thunk needed help, and he needed his helm. Thunkgaria's heroes will heed the call to deal with what he now knew was Santa's Tower
To be continued... https://www.thunkgaria.world/
