What follows is the closing poem for our Christmas post at DoucheyDM.com. You should subscribe to it, it’s full of win.
Twas the night before Christmas and across the whole mat
Not a creature was dropping, not even the werebat
The party was assembled, in a line, but not clumped
And the enemy AOE mage was hopelessly stumped.
Gorim in his hauberk, and I in my cloak
Were coughing and hacking from the hell-fire smoke.
When what to our war-weary eyes should emerge
But a fiery Goristro with an unused power surge.
He was a funny old chap, with a tail like a phallus
And he inquired as to why we’d invaded his palace.
“A night such as this,” his voice booming like thunder
“we should all be in bed, in deep winter slumber.”
Our bard, he spoke up, with out consultation
“We just thought we’d decorate for tomorrow’s celebration!
Our rouge has a bag of holding ‘neath her shawl,
With jewels and baubles for to deck this great hall.
“‘What a surprise,’ we though ‘should you wake to such wonder!’
We’re here to bring joy … certainly not to plunder.
So what say you, great demon? No need for concern,
We’re all are just here to do a good turn.”
Fates be praised, the bard rolled a crit,
For demon’s eyes, they teared up, just a bit.
And his face it contorted into what looked like a grin
And our cleric muttered that we’d burn for this sin.
“Allow me to help,” his voice shaking the walls,
“I’ll make kettle corn and candied eyeballs.
I’ll call forth my minions, they can help us as well.
If we all work together, this hall will look swell.”
The rogue eyed the bard, with murder in her eyes,
But she dumped out his bag of unusual size,
And we spotted some things as they spilled on the floor
That we didn’t recall splitting from our adventures before.
As he eyed the rogue’s plunder, our wizard, he spoke
“Have your minions bring stockings all hung from a rope,
For our rogue she brought gems to put in each one
So each will have presents, at the dawn of the sun.”
The rogue didn’t speak, as if choked by a bridle
But her face gave away, she had thoughts homicidal
When the decking was done, on our bedrolls we laid
And we each took a watch, for the rogue had a blade.
The demon he said, as we laid down to sleep
“Thanks to you all, for coming to my keep,
And I’ll rest knowing that there’ll be no fight
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”