Gerrtt
2009-12-24, 09:39 AM
Ahem...
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the dungeon;
the adventurers were wielding their slash, pierce, and bludgeons.
The traps were disarmed by the rogue with great care;
in hopes that the rest of the party would make it through there.
The bard and his lute nestled snug in his bedroll;
while visions of his new lyre of building danced in his head.
And the Paladin in his helmet, and I in my mithril chainshirt;
had just said our prayers to get our spells back.
When in the next room there arose such a clatter;
The fighter jumped up to see what was the matter.
The wizard flew up to the ceiling with a whoosh;
said his magic words and prepared to let loose a flash (of lightning).
The light from the room turned a pale greenish glow;
we knew that those monsters were preparing quite a show.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear;
but a party of gnomes and eight barrels beer!
With a gruff study leader, so bearded and grim.
I knew in an instant, it must be dwarven brewmaster Jim!
He laughed as he saw us his greetings they came,
he whistled and shouted and called his helpers by name.
Now Gimble, now Gamble, now Gomble and Gixen;
on Bomit, on Himbid, on Bonner and Schlitzen (those are Gnomish names, right?)
Pass out the glasses, give beer out to all,
now drink away, drink away, drink away all!
As quick as they might, the gnomes gave us beer;
Even the paladin had to give out a cheer.
The wizard sniffed carefully before tasting his brew;
And brewmaster Jim, well, the reason he knew (obviously, poor fort saves).
And then, in a twinkling, we heard from the next room;
the sounding of drums and the omens of doom.
We dropped our ales down and turned on our feet;
and prepared ourselves next for the monsters we'd meet.
They were dressed in black armor from their head to their feet;
and their blades were all bathed in blood from their meat.
A bundle of heads one had flung on his back;
then they charged at us next, letting out lots of laughs.
Their eyes how they gleamed, their teeth were all yellow;
we knew right away these were not jolly fellows,
Their mouths were twisted in snarling grins;
I suppose it's good news that they didn't have fins (so they aren't sahuagins or kuo-toas, whew).
We drew our weapons, we weilded our spells;
we prepared to send them back to the 9 hells.
The battled raged on for what seemed like hours,
But was really only a few rounds, because we were playing a complicated edition and our DM was using silly combat rules (ok that one didn't rhyme).
When finally at last, only one more was standing;
Their leader he was, but his group was disbanding (cause they died).
But a wink of his eye and a bow of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but he dropped weapons and turned;
He ran down the hall, his lesson was learned.
And laying his keys aside as he ran;
we all knew now, what to do as a plan.
We sprang to his treasure hold and gave out a whistle;
Our wizard got a new chainshirt, lined with down and thistle (or is it thistledown...I can never remember).
And the rest of the dungeon heard us exclaim as we vanished from sight;
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
---
Good thing I'm not a poet.
Season's Greetings!
-Gerrtt
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the dungeon;
the adventurers were wielding their slash, pierce, and bludgeons.
The traps were disarmed by the rogue with great care;
in hopes that the rest of the party would make it through there.
The bard and his lute nestled snug in his bedroll;
while visions of his new lyre of building danced in his head.
And the Paladin in his helmet, and I in my mithril chainshirt;
had just said our prayers to get our spells back.
When in the next room there arose such a clatter;
The fighter jumped up to see what was the matter.
The wizard flew up to the ceiling with a whoosh;
said his magic words and prepared to let loose a flash (of lightning).
The light from the room turned a pale greenish glow;
we knew that those monsters were preparing quite a show.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear;
but a party of gnomes and eight barrels beer!
With a gruff study leader, so bearded and grim.
I knew in an instant, it must be dwarven brewmaster Jim!
He laughed as he saw us his greetings they came,
he whistled and shouted and called his helpers by name.
Now Gimble, now Gamble, now Gomble and Gixen;
on Bomit, on Himbid, on Bonner and Schlitzen (those are Gnomish names, right?)
Pass out the glasses, give beer out to all,
now drink away, drink away, drink away all!
As quick as they might, the gnomes gave us beer;
Even the paladin had to give out a cheer.
The wizard sniffed carefully before tasting his brew;
And brewmaster Jim, well, the reason he knew (obviously, poor fort saves).
And then, in a twinkling, we heard from the next room;
the sounding of drums and the omens of doom.
We dropped our ales down and turned on our feet;
and prepared ourselves next for the monsters we'd meet.
They were dressed in black armor from their head to their feet;
and their blades were all bathed in blood from their meat.
A bundle of heads one had flung on his back;
then they charged at us next, letting out lots of laughs.
Their eyes how they gleamed, their teeth were all yellow;
we knew right away these were not jolly fellows,
Their mouths were twisted in snarling grins;
I suppose it's good news that they didn't have fins (so they aren't sahuagins or kuo-toas, whew).
We drew our weapons, we weilded our spells;
we prepared to send them back to the 9 hells.
The battled raged on for what seemed like hours,
But was really only a few rounds, because we were playing a complicated edition and our DM was using silly combat rules (ok that one didn't rhyme).
When finally at last, only one more was standing;
Their leader he was, but his group was disbanding (cause they died).
But a wink of his eye and a bow of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but he dropped weapons and turned;
He ran down the hall, his lesson was learned.
And laying his keys aside as he ran;
we all knew now, what to do as a plan.
We sprang to his treasure hold and gave out a whistle;
Our wizard got a new chainshirt, lined with down and thistle (or is it thistledown...I can never remember).
And the rest of the dungeon heard us exclaim as we vanished from sight;
Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!
---
Good thing I'm not a poet.
Season's Greetings!
-Gerrtt