Maegwyn
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Hello, everyone! For this issue of the Zardian, I found this great poem to read for Frostvale! It's all about what happened one night, but I won't spoil it for you. A few of the lines are hard to read, though, so I had to fill in a bit.
Listen, my children, and you will hear- wait, that's not it. Do-over!
'Twas the night before Frostval, and all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a D.R.O.U.S.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that Sepulchure would not be there.
The Moglins were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of Khandie Khain ran through their heads.
Artix in his armor and Robina in her cap
Had just settled their brains for a long Frostval nap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
He sprang from his bed to see what was the matter.
He flew to the window as quick as a flash;
Tore open the shutters, and wondered what to do with the sash.
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the luster of bright stuff to objects below,
When what, to his wandering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny... Reindeer?
With a frightening driver so creepy a man,
He knew in a moment it was Drakonnan!
Faster than Cthulions, his coursers they came;
He shouted and cackled and called them by name:
"Now, Thyton! Now, Cyrus!
Now, Kalanyr and Reens!
On, Lady_Tomo! On, Seahawk!
On, Maegwyn and Alac!
To the top of the porch,
To the top of the wall!
Now dash away, dash away,
Dash away all!"
"Hey, we're not reindeer,"
They did then reply.
"If we had a chance,
We'd spit in your eye!"
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the rooftop the Admins they flew,
With the sleigh full of toys, and "Saint" Drakonnan, too.
And then in a twinkling, he heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little... foot.
As he drew in his head and was turning around,
Down the chimney that Drakonnan came with a bound!
He was dressed in armor from his head to his foot
And it was all tarnished with ashes and soot.
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack.
His eyes- how they gleamed! His dimples, how non-existent!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little skull was drawn up in a bow,
And the beard on his chin was a no-show.
The stump of a newb he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke, it encircled his body like a wreath.
He had a gaunt face and a lean little belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowlful of jam.
"I let you in," said Artix, "because you had presents.
So finish your work, and then get thee hence!"
Drak' spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings, then turned into a jerk!
He set the Inn ablaze, and then ran away
Out of the door and into his sleigh.
But we heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight:
"Merry Frostval to all, and to all a night light!"
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