It is time to make merry. Best not to tarry! Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!\n\nWhen the crisped air makes ghosts of your breath and the trees all dream in death, look for the signs of the Wanderer.\n\nWhen the stars burn brighter, when bleeding colors paint the sky in awe, when the Gleamite stars fall, look for Winter’s Father.\n\nWhen the Frigid Folk chuckle and the Ice Trolls cackle, huddle closer to the flames and the crackle, and look for the Frost Lord.\n\nO, darling. O, deario. It is time to make merry. Best not to tarry! Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

Pages from a book of fables

A Seasonal Fable (part 1)

Sing a carol, now, to the Winter Wanderer.\n\nWhen the sky fills with celestial light and winter blankets the earth, the Wanderer comes forth! Know him by his First Aspect. Call him Yulnir. Call him Father Winter.\n\nHe comes with a benevolent twinkle in his eye. He comes wrapped in a cloak made from the multi-colored sky.\n\nEvery home he visits. Every hearth he blesses. On the coldest nights, he brings feast and bounty. He feeds body and soul with a warmth that lasts from season to season. The hearth of the heart!\n\nBut Father Winter only gifts those who have offered love and warmth to their fellows all the year round.\n\nO, darling. O, deario. It is time to make merry. Pray do not tarry! Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

A Seasonal Fable (part 2)

Sing a carol, now, to the Winter Wanderer. \n\nWhen the days shrivel to nothing, and you fathom the bottom of your bowl, and you enter the long night of the soul, the Wanderer comes forth! Know him by his Second Aspect. Call him Jotunir. Call him Lord Frost. Call him the Winter Warrior! \n\nHe comes cloaked in a patchwork coat stitched from all of our nightmares. He comes with a prerogative of vengeance. The hearts of the selfish and vain are his food. Merrily, merrily he goes about his terrible business. He stalks the wild places, stands in shadows, and you may not even notice when he drinks your misty breath. \n\nO, darling. O, deario! It’s past time to make merry. Did you dare tarry? It may already be too late. Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

A Seasonal Fable (part 3)

Sing a carol, now, to the Frigid Folk. \n\nCall them the children of the Frost Lord. Call them holy mischief. Call them merry mayhem. They all grin with demented joy. They know the names of every child who fell through the ice. \n\nThey bring gifts of festive chaos. They gather souls for the army of their lord. Best to leave out something sweet, lest they find something else to nibble and eat. \n\nO, darling. O, deario! You better make merry. The alternative’s quite scary. Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

A Seasonal Fable (part 4)

Sing a carol, now, to the Ice Trolls. \n\nCall them minions of the Winter Warrior. Call them the grunts of the army of Forever Winter. The Frigid Folk caught these unfortunate souls and ate their names. That is alright. They won’t need their names anymore.\n\nO, darling. O, deario! You better make merry. Make merry! Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

A Seasonal Fable (part 5)

Sing a carol, now… \n\nNo. There are no carols now. There is only silence and the wind and the groan of ice. \n\nCall it Lord Frost’s victory. Call it Winter Warrior triumphant. Call it Forever Winter. Everything rests in the belly of a blizzard, and the Winter Warrior holds illimitable dominion for all eternity. \n\nO, darling. O, deario! It was time to make merry. You wretches did tarry. It is far, far too late. Roh-de-lay-ho-ho-ho!

A Seasonal Fable (part 6)

A time of jolly cheer and ghastly grim tidings

The Winter Wanderer Chapter - NWGuide Database of Lore

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