historyian:
A night before that a witch/summoner could love (not my work, but gleefully copied from somewhere on the internet):
'Twas the night before Christmas,
And all through the town,
Hell was breaking loose;
Things were falling down!
The weapons were hung
In the hallway with care;
In hopes that their wielders
Soon would be there.
The children lay trembling,
Entrapped in their beds;
While nightmarish visions
Raced through their heads.
And Mama with a ruckus,
And I with a rattle;
Had just donned our armor
For a long winter's battle.
When out in the street,
There arose such a clatter;
We sprang from our house
To see what was the matter.
Away to the fountain
We flew like the lightning;
Treading with caution;
For it was very frightening.
The splatter of blood on the fresh fallen snow
Gave a gory effect to the objects below;
When, what to our terrified eyes should appear;
But a towering devil, who filled us with fear!
His rod was so great, but his staff was still greater;
So we knew all at once that it must be Dispater.
More vicious than wolves his minions drew near,
And he smiled, and smirked, and snarled with a sneer:
"Now, Slasher! Now, Slicer! Now Smasher and Shaker!
On, Crasher! On, Crusher! On, Basher and Breaker!
Tear down the houses; break down the walls!
And smash away, crash away, 'til everything falls!"
As rabbits before the fierce predators scatter,
When they met with an obstacle, they'd cause it to shatter.
So back to our house, we decided to go,
With the army of devils and Dispater in tow.
And then with a shrieking,
We heard in the square;
The stamping of hooves
Of a fiendish nightmare.
As we drew forth our blades,
And were preparing to fight;
Suddenly Dispater
Emerged from the night.
He was dressed in all black,
From his head to his toe;
Which sharply contrasted
With the white of the snow.
A powerful mace
Was clenched in his fist;
And he stepped like a warrior
From out of the mist.
His eyes how they burned!
His countenance scary;
His skin was like iron;
He was no fairy.
His steellike jaw
was smooth and cleanshaven,
And his long flowing hair
was as black as a raven.
The shaft of a spear
he held tight in his grasp,
And his billowing cape
was clutched with a clasp.
He had a gaunt face,
And fists made of steel;
I wished this a dream;
But it was all too real.
He was fearsome and stern,
A formidable foe;
And we shook when we saw him,
For we had no place to go.
A glint in his eye,
Instilled us with dread;
And made it quite clear
That we soon would be dead.
He spoke not a word,
But went straight to his work;
And engaged us in combat,
With nary a quirk.
I and my wife,
We fought hard and long;
But it cost us our life,
For he was just too strong.
He stood over our corpses,
Proud of his win,
And he left us there dying,
Wearing a grin.
But I heard him proclaim,
Ere the light left my eye;
"Merry Christmas to all;
and now you shall die."
Merry Christmas, fellow players!
