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and that’s a wrap for Secret Xanta 2024! once again thank you to everyone who participated - @thesilverseekerao3 @theloverofdragons @asylumdream @pantsless-glowboy-stan @shimishtar @7yd1a @thatvampireenthusiast @high-voltage-rat @uooj601 @arcane-antler - you all get slightly singed cookies from xanta claus

happy frostval and see you all next year! :D

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To @asylumdream

From @arcane-antler

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Ahoy Merry Christmas!im not really sure what else to putt in here so uh… behold!

@thatvampireenthusiast​

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Merry Frostthing, Dot! Your fluffy design for Draco is so adorable I’m honestly enchanted by them. I hope I did them and Mira justice!!!

@pantsless-glowboy-stan

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The Frostval Sweaters Incident

It starts, as many things do, with Cysero. Because of course it does.

Or rather, it starts with Cysero’s… sweater.

The first to see the sweater is Warlic. It’s late, or perhaps early, and the Blue Mage is in the kitchen fixing himself a cup of tea when Cysero enters, humming an unfamiliar tune. Warlic doesn’t look up at first, choosing instead to finish pouring his tea.

Mug in hand, he turns, mouth opening to greet Cysero, only for the words to get caught in his mouth as his eyes widen.

The sound of ceramic shattering fills the air as the mug of tea slips from his hand and falls to the floor, but Warlic hardly even notices, too distracted by… whatever it is that Cysero is wearing in place of his normal tunic.

It is violently green. It has the appearance of a knitted garment, but the longer one looks the more the texture seems to be not quite right. There are… sparkles. Frills. Lace. Multiple rubber ducks, which appear to have been cut in half and attached through means that Warlic cannot figure out.

Honestly, it hurts to even look at for too long.

Cysero merely grins, and though his eyes are hidden by his hair the way they always are, Warlic swears they gleam.

“Hey Warlic! Like my Frostval sweater?”

“Your what.”

It is not a sweater. That’s the general consensus, once everyone in the tower has seen it. It perhaps look like a sweater, if one squints and is feeling very generous in their descriptions. But it isn’t a sweater, and no one has any idea what it could possibly have to do with Frostval.

None of this stops Cyseros from insisting that is, in fact, a Frostval sweater, nor does it stop him from making more… and then inflicting them on other people.

Alexander falls first, if one can call it falling. Giving in certainly isn’t the right term, either, because there is absolutely no reluctance involved on the part of the pyromancer. He simply shows up to tea with Lynn one day wearing a colorful abomination.

“It’s fireproof,” he says cheerfully by way of explanation. “I think it brings out my eyes.”

“You don’t have eyes.” Amadeus, as always, is blunt. “You have eye sockets.”

“It still brings them out.”

Lynn, meanwhile, looks at the garment critically. It’s a bit long for a shirt, really, more like a tunic. It is large, and loose, and looks incredibly comfy. It is a riotous mess of colors, with tiny fake presents attached to it at random intervals through unknown means. The tiny presents have fake flames on them. From one of the shoulders, a tiny plush frost moglin hangs in distress, dripping glitter.

“I want one,” Lynn declares, and Amadeus turns to look at his daughter with poorly concealed dismay. “With skulls. And dragons!”

In the face of Lynn’s enthusiasm, Amadeus finds himself as helpless as any other parent subjected to childish whims and a brilliant smile, and in short order he and his daughter both are in possession of one of Cysero’s Frostval ‘sweaters’.

Lynn’s, at least, is somewhat tasteful, albeit more of a sweater-dress than a sweater proper. There’s skull-patterned lace trim along the hem of the skirt, and dragons and dracolichs chase each other across the whole of it, colorful and sparkling.

Amadeus is less fortunate. The sword pattern is fine, but the pom-poms and glitter are decidedly not, and the less said about the fur trim the better.

“That is an… interesting look on you.” There is no hiding the amusement in Jaania’s eyes.

“It makes Lynn happy,” Amadeus says, clearly grumpy about it. Left unsaid is how he would submit himself to various mortifying ordeals if it would please his daughter.

“They’re honestly really comfortable.” For a flaming skeleton, Alex looks remarkably smug. “You should ask Cysero for one, too.”

“I-”

“You should,” Amadeus agrees, all traces of his earlier annoyance now gone and a glint of something else in his eyes. “Perhaps you’ll get one with ice.”

“Oh, no, no ice,” Cysero says from behind, making all of them turn. The smith had not been there a second ago. “I’m thinking… dragons!”

“Dragons?” Jaania echoes, visibly confused.

“Mhm! Dragons. Maybe some stars, too! That’d fit best.”

Cysero vanishes as quickly as he came, leaving puzzled and bemused expressions in his wake.

There are dragons on Jaania’s sweater when it’s finished, bright and majestic things made of shimmering sequins, stitched against a backdrop of blue and green. Further sequins and beads form strange constellations and stars, and along the sleeve cuffs there are images of strange machines that leave Jaania with a strange sense of deja vu.

Nythera looks at the garment with a critical eye. “The dragons do suit you, I suppose. And the colors.” She gives a contemplative hum. “I think I’d like dragons on mine, too.”

“Yours?”

“I’m fairly certain it’s an inevitability at this point.” She says it very matter of factly. “Maybe if I get in on it now I can suggest something for Warlic’s.”

“Like what?” Jaania asks.

Nythera simply grins.

If Cysero’s sweater hurts to look at for too long, the one he makes for Nythera is almost painful to look at at all. It’s like Cysero took a chunk of abyssal void and made it into the vague shape of a sweater. The quick glimpses people are able to take of it give impressions of teeth and claws and scales. Nythera is able to look at it just fine, and is delighted over the results.

She is even more delighted, however, by the absolute monstrosity that Cysero inflicts upon Warlic.

It looks like Frostval threw up on it. There are ribbons. Baubles. Sequin snowflakes. Glitter. Lace trim and fur trim and little presents and tiny frost moglins and bells.

It’s hideous.

It’s also the most comfortable thing Warlic has ever worn.

Unfortunately, he does not get the chance to wear it for very long before things go sideways (more so than the tower already is). Perhaps it is the use of void in Nythera’s sweater, or perhaps some other force is the cause, but whatever the catalyst, the end result is the same - a laundry golem made of the fused Frostval sweaters, far more powerful than any laundry golem has the right too be and far larger and more colorful, as well.

The resulting rampage through the tower by said sweater golem could hardly be called a surprise, really. It is dealt with swiftly, because the people who call the tower home are all powerhouses in their own right, but it is enough of an annoyance that a ban is implemented on Frostval sweaters so as to prevent a repeat occurrence all the same.

And thus, what will come to be known as “The Frostval Sweaters Incident” comes to a close, much to Cysero’s vocal disappointment.

@7yd1a

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Frostval Mischief

Ravyn sprawled out across the couch, holding one of Warlic’s tomes at arm’s length above her and staring blankly at the words. Rune napped on her chest like an oversized cat. Ravyn had been reading, but as it turned out, this particular volume wasn’t especially gripping. 

This Frostval eve, it was just too quiet in the tower. Amadeus took Gravelynn to spend the holiday in Frostvale this year, and with no child to entertain, the others were putting less effort into festivities. She didn’t live here, she could just as easily visit Frostvale herself, but her friends here deserved a celebration of their own. She just had to come up with something��

As if reading Ravyn’s mind, Cysero poked his head up from behind the back of the couch. Just how long had he been there? He smiled down at them, and Ravyn snapped the book shut and set it aside. If anyone could liven things up around here, it was him.

“Hiya!”

“Cysero! Got any Frostval plans?”

Cysero held up a finger. “As a matter of fact, I do!”

“What do you have?”

“You, me, annoying Xan and Warlic. A classic!”

“By ‘annoying,’ you mean…?”

“Pranks!” He was quiet for a beat, probably for dramatic effect. “The harmless kind.”

“Hmm… tempting.”

“Then, if they want to prank us back, they’ll have to come out of hiding and enjoy the holiday!”

“Oooooh,” Maybe some menacing was just what the holiday needed. “Count me in.”

As the others slept through Frostval night, Ravyn, Cysero, and Rune got to work. They decorated and baked, schemed and prowled, then finally set their pranks in motion. Now all that remained was to lie in wait till morning. Ravyn and Cysero dozed on either side of the couch, with Rune curling up around Ravyn’s shoulders like a reptilian scarf. 

Early Frostval morning, Cysero awoke to the sound of a door creaking open, and gently nudged Ravyn awake. Alexander shuffled into the family room, characteristically bleary-eyed and sleepy. And wearing his favorite slippers! Ravyn suppressed a laugh. Alex slowly made his way to their place on the couch, never picking up his feet, and stared down at them. With how often Ravyn crashed here, he wasn’t at all surprised to see her here for Frostval. 

“Cysero. Ravyn.”

Cysero grinned. “Hiya, Xan!”

“What did you put in my slippers?”

“Sponges!”

Alex sighed. “What’s in the sponges?”

“Mana potions.” Ravyn spoke up. “They’re good for your health.”

“My feet. Are wet.”

“And,” Ravyn smirked up at him. “Healthy! You’re welcome.”

Alex was about to respond when Warlic approached, his hair a festive, glowing green. Alex’s expression immediately transformed from annoyance to mischievous glee. “Ahahaha! You got him too?”

Warlic blinked at him. “Do you mean to imply this wasn’t your doing?”

Alex held up a slipper, soggy and stained purple. A mana-drenched sponge plopped out onto the carpet. Cysero and Ravyn burst out laughing. Rune grumbled and moved from his perch on Ravyn’s shoulders to settle in her lap.

Warlic indignantly adjusted his housecoat. “Well. It seems there’s only one thing to do about this. Alex?”

Alexander smirked. “Frostval Prank War?”

“Frostval Prank War.”

Said prank war lasted all through Frostval, a relentless back and forth between the two teams: Cysero, Ravyn, and Rune vs. Warlic and Alexander. This mischievous Frostval was far from the Frost Moglins’ traditions, but something about being harmlessly at-odds felt warm and festive to the residents of the tower.

Cysero finally called a truce, with the promise of dinner and a nice hot beverage. He gathered the others around the Frostval tree and passed out warm mugs of what looked like cocoaberry juice. But when Ravyn took a sip, it was different, and somehow—

“Familiar,” Warlic voiced her thoughts. “Odd, I’m certain I’ve never had this drink before, and yet it’s nostalgic.”

“It’s definitely not cocoaberry juice,” Alex laughed. “Tasty though!”

“Yeah…” A hazy impression passed through Ravyn’s mind, as if recalling a dream. “Cysero, what did you say this drink was called?”

Cysero smiled at her from over his own mug. “Where I’m from, we called it coffee.”

  ****

  Happy Frostval Ali! 

  @high-voltage-rat

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💜💙

I enjoyed drawing them sm 😭❤️ I hope you like it!

Halfway I realized it’s not very season-themed so here’s a doodle of them smooching and doing another gay thing 🤭

@arcane-antler

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happy frostval @shimishtar!

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@theloverofdragons

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With the Hero off finding locations to hide the now shattered Blade of Awe, it allowed Valencia a moment to sit and catch her breath, something she hadn’t managed to do since the Blade had first been found, they’d met Fae and…and Trey had…her father had…

A downside of having a moment to sit and catch her breath was it meant that the topic she had steadfastly been avoiding having to focus on – fleeing from entropic earth elementals and then returning to Willowshire had at least been good distractions – was now all she could think of.

All her life she’d looked up to her father, had trusted him, had followed in his footsteps to become a rare item hunter, and had helped him on this last hunt, to find the ultimate treasure that they’d both spent years looking for. And he’d…

“Valencia? Are you okay?”

“Huh?” Valencia blinked and jerked her head up, pulled out of her spiralling thoughts by the other voice, and suddenly becoming aware of the feeling of wetness on her cheeks.

“You’re crying,” Fae, she could see now that the voice was Fae’s, was looking at her with concern shining in her eyes, cat ears twitching slightly.

“Ah, yes,” Valencia wiped her face and offered Fae a slightly watery smile. “Sorry, it’s just…I…”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Fae dropped down next to her, hesitating slightly before reaching out and covering one of Valencia’s clenched fists (when had she done that?) with one of her paws.

“Thanks Fae. It’s silly really, Da-Trey betrayed us, tried to kill us, nearly ripped Lore apart for trinkets. Sepulchure has the full Earth Orb now, and Trey…he wouldn’t reach out…and now he’s…but even so, I…”

“You miss him,” Fae finished for her, resting her head on Valencia’s shoulder. “Valencia…you know it’s okay for you to mourn him. Yes he hurt you, but he was still your father.”

“I just need a moment I think, there’s still so much we need to do. Perhaps after a while this hurt will fade, and I can try to remember the good rather than just the bad.”

“You can take as long as you need,” Fae shifted her position slightly to bring her arms up and around Valencia for a hug. “I’m not really good at giving advice, but I can listen.”

“Thank you Fae, I appreciate it.”

As the sky outside began to turn purple with the setting sun, Valencia became aware of soft vibrations against her shoulder.

“Fae? Are you…purring?”

“Oh!” Fae squeaked, bringing her head up again and flushing red. “Oh I’m so sorry, it was an accident, I do it sometimes without realising!”

For the first time since Trey’s betrayal, Valencia laughed softly. “Don’t apologise, it was…nice. And it…it helped.”

“Good, I’m glad,” Fae returned her smile, resting her head back down and the purrs starting up again as Valencia looked out over the hills, resting her hand atop Fae’s paws that were still hugging her. The pain at how things had turned out with Trey was still there, but now it hurt a little less.

****

Happy Frostval Silver!

@thesilverseekerao3​

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A Friendly Fight - Xanta gift for uooj601

When Danielle arrived at the Falconreach Park by the river, she was happy to see her friend already there, leaning back against a tree, his single Soulweaver gauntlet’s twin gems gleaning in the sunlight. When he saw her he rose with a grin and called, “Red! It’s been a while!”

Danielle smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, Piz. The business at Dragesvard took longer than I expected. We could spar twice this month to make up for it?” 

“No worries!” Pizza said breezily, rising to his feet. “This isn’t some world-saving quest, we’re here for fun.”

“Right,” she murmured. It was starting to be hard to remember nowadays, with the ongoing race for the Elemental Orbs and everything, but her and Pizza’s monthly sparring sessions were meant to be simple fun. She shook her head, as though to shake off all her worries, lifted her DragonLord shield and resumed a fighting stance. “Ready?” she called, excitement ringing in her voice. 

Pizza tapped his Soulweaver gauntlet, and the blade sprung out, shining like the gems which powered it. “Let’s go!” he cried, and charged at her. 

Danielle sidestepped the attack, summoning an Energy Dragon Spirit to strike back. Pizza huffed and, with incredible agility, seemed to run in a circle around her for a moment before hitting her from an unexpected angle. 

They were both setting up combos, Danielle realized, and grinned. She sprouted her Dragon Wings, flying at her opponent and slashing one, two, three, four times, and when she landed her auburn hair was tousled and her heart sang with joy and thrill. 

Pizza staggered from her attack, regained his footing and jumped towards her, hit, behind her, up, forward, down, hit, hit, hit, leaving her slightly out of breath and very grateful for her draconic armor. 

She infused her blade with a Fire Dragon Spirit and stabbed forward, sending the Spirit flying towards him; he paid her back with a magical swarm flying in her face. 

Their final attacks met in the middle - Pizza with a spectral katana, Danielle with her blade acting as a Dragon’s Claw. The burst of energy that followed sent them both flying, rolling in the grass as they fell to the ground. 

Danielle couldn’t remember when last she’d laughed like this, with all her heart. 

She turned her head a little to look at Pizza, and found his blue hair messy and his eyes unusually sad; he had the same look in his eyes when they’d first met - on the frontline defending Falconreach from Sepulchure’s undead attack. She had been new to hero-ing then, fresh out of her home village in the forests of Oaklore, and he had seemed like a seasoned and capable fighter. 

“You alright?” Danielle asked, smiling awkwardly to hide the chill that ran down her spine; for a second, the older Soulweaver almost seemed sad. 

In a blink, it was gone, and he was his normal self again. “Yeah,” he said, “just had a lot of fun with you today, Red.” 

Danielle relaxed and softened. “Me too, Piz.” 

@uooj601

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hi xantas, frostval is right around the corner and today is the final day to submit your gift!

if you need to drop out, please let me know before 23:59 GMT tonight

happy frostval!

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hi xantas, reminder that today is the last day to submit your gifts, at 23:59 GMT

(if you’ve had your deadline extended, this is your one week reminder 😊)

if you need the deadline extending to the 24th or need to drop out, please let me know before the deadline

happy frostval!

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hi xantas, frostval is approaching and there’s one week left to submit your gift if you haven’t already <3 december 18th at 23:59 GMT

(if you’ve had your deadline extended, this is a two week reminder for your new deadline, december 24th 😊)

if you need an extension up until december 24th 23:59 GMT at the very latest, or need to drop out please message me here or @theloverofdragons by december 18th

happy frostval!

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hi xantas, just a reminder that there’s two weeks left to submit your gift if you haven’t already <3 december 18th at 23:59 GMT

if you need an extension up until december 24th 23:59 GMT at the very latest, or need to drop out, please message me here or @theloverofdragons by december 18th

happy frostval!

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Sign Up is now closed

thank you to everyone who has signed up! you shall be contacted today, 16th November, with who you will be the secret xanta for and their prompts

if you have any questions, feel free to message me on this blog or my main, @theloverofdragons 💖

happy frostval!

Last Day to sign up for Secret Xanta

if you would like to take part, sign up here by 23:59 GMT tonight

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Last Day to sign up for Secret Xanta

if you would like to take part, sign up here by 23:59 GMT tonight