A D&D Christmas Wish, based on Twas the Night Before Christmas.
Twas the night before the Midwinter Holiday Fest, when all through the tavern,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a cursed pattern.
The blessed stockings were hung by the stewpot with care,
In hopes that some sort of hairy deity would soon be there.
The halflings were nestled by the horses in the shed,
While visions of elevensies danced in their head,
The elves were starring in their weird creepy nap,
While I sat by the bar in a drinking work related rap.
While out on the roof arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my +2 bedroll to see what was the matter,
Away to the doorway I flew like a flash,
Thankfully I had on my lightning quick sash.
(I may have stolen it from the ogres’ Bash)
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a glitterdust like lustre to the objects below,
When who to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a gilt-laden sleigh and eight monstrous diredeer.
With a little tiny driver, battle axe lively and quick,
I knew it a moment I could be quite rich,
More rapid than a wind elemental his beasts they all came,
And whistled and shouted as he called them by name:
Now Wee Jas, Now Boccob,
Now Moradin and Gruumsh,
On Pelor, on Nerull,
On Yondalla and Ehlonna,
To the top of the inn,
To the bottom of the feiry pits,
Now dash away hope, dash away all!
He was dressed all in bone, from head to foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot,
A bag of holding he had strung to his back,
He looked like a demigod covered in boneblack.
He was lean and sinewy, a right evil dwarf,
And I laughed when I saw him, which caused him to morph,
A grimace on his face, and a twist of his axehead,
Soon gave me the knowledge I might be quite dead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to the fight,
But I rolled higher initiative, then crit’d with my +4 might,
Laying my sword on the side of his nose,
There was no question, he’d not be able to arose.
The tavern sprang to their feet with a might huzzah,
And away flew the diredeer with a bribe of nice ‘za.
But I heard him exclaim, through some guttural pain.
May your Midwinter festival be great and to all a good Wight.
A Happiest of D&D Holidays – Twas the Night Before a Midwinter Festival
Posted by ElizeMorgan in Uncategorized
A D&D Christmas Wish, based on Twas the Night Before Christmas.
Twas the night before the Midwinter Holiday Fest, when all through the tavern,
Not a creature was stirring, not even a cursed pattern.
The blessed stockings were hung by the stewpot with care,
In hopes that some sort of hairy deity would soon be there.
The halflings were nestled by the horses in the shed,
While visions of elevensies danced in their head,
The elves were starring in their weird creepy nap,
While I sat by the bar in a drinking work related rap.
While out on the roof arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my +2 bedroll to see what was the matter,
Away to the doorway I flew like a flash,
Thankfully I had on my lightning quick sash.
(I may have stolen it from the ogres’ Bash)
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow,
Gave a glitterdust like lustre to the objects below,
When who to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a gilt-laden sleigh and eight monstrous diredeer.
With a little tiny driver, battle axe lively and quick,
I knew it a moment I could be quite rich,
More rapid than a wind elemental his beasts they all came,
And whistled and shouted as he called them by name:
Now Wee Jas, Now Boccob,
Now Moradin and Gruumsh,
On Pelor, on Nerull,
On Yondalla and Ehlonna,
To the top of the inn,
To the bottom of the feiry pits,
Now dash away hope, dash away all!
He was dressed all in bone, from head to foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot,
A bag of holding he had strung to his back,
He looked like a demigod covered in boneblack.
He was lean and sinewy, a right evil dwarf,
And I laughed when I saw him, which caused him to morph,
A grimace on his face, and a twist of his axehead,
Soon gave me the knowledge I might be quite dead.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to the fight,
But I rolled higher initiative, then crit’d with my +4 might,
Laying my sword on the side of his nose,
There was no question, he’d not be able to arose.
The tavern sprang to their feet with a might huzzah,
And away flew the diredeer with a bribe of nice ‘za.
But I heard him exclaim, through some guttural pain.
May your Midwinter festival be great and to all a good Wight.