From they’re they’d moved to an interplanar bastion that was held by a group of slavers called the Mighty Hand, and their santa hats and constant carolling had caused much confusion among the slavers as they were being purged.
After that had been a Hell scenario, and while it took them more time than the first two scenarios put together, they were still all intact by the end of it.
The next scenario had been an elemental vortex: a storm of clashing elements over a jagged, cracked landscape. Once they were finished destroying its inhabitants, Ashtoreth had insisted they fly to the coldest part to make snow angels and snowmen while they took a break for lunch.
They’d been moved to the Abyssal Rift next, then Hell again, then a primeval world of megafauna. Because the animal-only scenarios were the easiest ones to keep themselves safe in, they stopped in the last: tomorrow they were taking the day off.
Ashtoreth covered everything in glamours: the house was made of gingerbread, snow coated the ground around it despite the jungle heat, and a particularly pathetic-looking branch had been jammed into the ground outside and then made to look like a christmas tree.
“I finished putting the reindeer on the roof!” Ashtoreth cried out as she landed to join them by the fire. “That means presents, right?”
“Sure,” said Frost.
“We always opened presents on Christmas Day in my family, not Christmas Eve,” said Hunter.
“I don’t want to listen to her ask forty more times, though,” said Frost.
Ashtoreth ran into the house to fetch her presents. They had no wrapping paper, so she’d bundled them in strips of cloth that she’d torn from enemy clothing and then glamoured it look like shiny paper.
“Okay,” she said, coming outside to set her presents under the tree. “I have a big surprise for everybody.”
“You do?” Frost asked, his voice sounding uncertain.
“Do you guys remember when we cleared that golem factory that sold war constructs to slavers?”
“Uh, yes,” said Frost.
“Well since we were staying there overnight, I actually saved a couple of the gremlin engineers in secret,” she said.
“What exactly do you mean, ‘saved’?” Frost asked.
“Basically, I told them I’d spare their lives if they made me some stuff,” she said, smiling. “And while we slept, they toiled away on my presents for everybody! They’re very crafty, those gremlins—skilled in all manner of materials.”
“Wait, that’s where you were going when you said you were checking on the boiler to make sure the whole place didn’t burn down while we slept?” Kylie asked.
“I did that too.”
Frost reached up and rubbed his temple. “And did you actually let them go?”
Ashtoreth paused for a moment, trying to gauge by his expression which answer would be better. “Well….”
Frost sighed. “You didn’t.”
“We agreed before hand that they were fair game, remember? The ‘interplanar arms dealers’ conversation.”
“I remember.”
“Look,” said Kylie. “Let’s not criticise her for whatever morally questionable actions she took in the spirit of Christmas,” said Kylie.
“Thank you, Kylie.”
“Yeah,” said Dazel. “It was very generous of Ashtoreth to have slaves make us things under duress, then renege on her promise to spare their lives.”
“We were going to kill them anyway!” she said. “But before that happened, I let them do something nice for once. They’ll bring you joy!”
“Great,” said Kylie. “Our gifts might be surprising, too.”
“Really?” Ashtoreth asked. “I’m not expecting much, considering our circumstances. You could get me a rock and it would still be the best Christmas present I ever got.”
“We did better than rocks,” said Hunter. “You’ll see. Kylie already knows what everyone’s gift is, though.”
“Huh? Why?”
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“Tell her after she opens them,” said Kylie. “Hunter, give her yours.”
“Why me?” Ashtoreth said. “I want you all to open mine first. We should have a system for choosing—one that I can win.”
“Youngest opens first,” Frost said. “That’s the system.”
Ashtoreth sighed, then took a wad of cloth from Hunter as he passed it to her. She uncovered it, then frowned in confusion as her hands found what felt like a laminated sheet of paper. “What… how….”
She held a sheet of stickers, one that looked like it had come straight from Earth. But that wasn’t the only strange thing about them: each of them was a member of the team, but as a cute, chibi anime figure.
“They’re for your bag,” Hunter said. “I thought you’d like them.”
Ashtoreth’s sticker was grinning with her hands on her hips, sword planted in the ground beside her. Kylie’s was floating with her arms crossed, frayed hem of her robe dangling beneath her. Hunter had his swords drawn and stared into the distance with an intense look.
“Hold on,” said Dazel. “Hold on. What’s wrong with my face?”
“You’re smiling,” Hunter said, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.
“Okay so right away, this is not a lore-accurate Dazel,” said Dazel. “But look—why am I smiling like that?”
Ashtoreth looked down at Dazel’s sticker. He wasn’t just smiling, but grinning with an insane level of exuberance and holding out a thumbs-up.
“Because you’re happy,” said Hunter. “Maybe you just made a joke about me. Who knows?”
Ashtoreth blinked down at the stickers, tears gathering at the corner of her eyes. “How did you… I don’t….” She took deep breath. “This is the greatest thing that’s ever happened to me,” she said, her voice wavering.
“Boss has a point,” Dazel said. “How did you get these? The best we’ve gotten from system loot is Frost’s guitar.”
“Should we tell her?” Hunter asked Kylie.
“Sure,” said Kylie. She turned to Ashtoreth. “I made a minion out of one of the elites with a reality-shifting aura in the Abyssal Rift,” she said. “Pretty simple, really. It made a bunch of simple objects we’d thought of.” She shrugged. “Can’t do movies or games or anything like that, they’re too detailed. But we could do stickers.”
“Hopefully they stick all right,” Hunter said.
“Let me try!” Ashtoreth said. She pulled her heart satchel into her lap, then took the sticker of herself and carefully pressed it onto the front. “It’s working!” she said, rubbing the sticker. “It adheres perfectly to the elvish leather!”
“Great,” said Hunter. “I’m really glad you like them, Ashtoreth.”
“Uh, wait a second,” Frost said. “You said ‘elvish leather.’”
“Uh-huh!” Ashtoreth said. She held out her bag. “It’s very supple. Feel it?”
Frost eyed the bag suspiciously. “Does that mean… is that leather that was crafted by elves, or….”
Ashtoreth blinked. “Yeah,” she lied. “The elves made it from animal hides.”
He seemed to relax. “Okay,” he said, reaching out to touch it. “For a second I thought it was something else.”
“Now open mine!” Ashtoreth said, grabbing a present and thrusting it into his hands.
Hunter tore away the glamoured cloth and slowly pulled out a long piece of black fabric.
“It’s a long, tattered scarf!” Ashtoreth said. “The fabric is lightweight, too, so the tails should blow nicely in the breeze if you wrap it around your neck.”
“It’s perfect,” Hunter said. “Thanks.”
“Here,” Kylie said, passing Ashtoreth a present. “This is from me. Frost helped me pick it out.”
She hefted the heavy parcel and tore away the cloth covering to find a jar filled with a nondescript brown substance. Her eyes widened. “Is this what I think it is?”
“It’s peanut butter,” Kylie said. “It actually took me a while to get the minion to generate the right flavor, but that’s pretty much it.”
“Wow!” she said. “I’m having some right now.” She unscrewed the lid, dragged a finger through the creamy substance inside, and stuck a wad of it in her mouth. Her eyes widened.
“How is it?” Frost asked.
“Her tastebuds are attenuated to raw meat and blood,” said Dazel. “Not nut spreads.”
Ashtoreth swallowed the peanut butter a moment later, trying not to wince. “Well, the important thing is that I finally got to experience it,” she said.
Everyone laughed as she screwed the lid back on the jar.
Next, Kylie opened her gift from Ashtoreth. It was a satchel identical to Ashtoreth’s heart bag, only it was black and had a blue skull on it instead of a red heart.
“I’ve got a couple spare bags,” she said. “So I had the gremlins change one to fit you!”
“Also elvish leather, eh?” Kylie asked, taking the bag.
Ashtoreth eyed Kylie—could she use her magic to determine that the bag had once been the skin of something sapient? If she could, she wasn’t saying anything.
“I love it,” Kylie said. “Thanks.”
Ashtoreth beamed at her.
Frost had gotten everyone ornaments for the tree. Ashtoreth’s was a tiny globe of the earth and a banner that read: Archfiend’s First Christmas. She fawned over it for a while before insisting on hanging it up right away.
Dazel had gotten everyone an identical silver ring inlaid with glass. “I enchanted them,” he said. “They should let Kylie link you with her telepathy spell even across demiplanes.”
Ashtoreth gasped and put hers on one finger immediately. “We’ll be able to talk even when I’m assaulting the bastions!”
“That’s the idea,” said Dazel. “I figured the system wasn’t going to give you these.”
She got him a miniature silk neckerchief, red embroidered with gold. Then, with all her gift exchanges finished, she settle in to watch everyone else. A strange sense of wonder came over her as she watched them give each other useless knicknacks.
A part of her couldn’t believe that any of it was real, but that didn’t change one simple fact.
It was the best day of Ashtoreth’s life.
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