'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the realm
Not a creature was stirring, not even a gnome;
The walls were manned by the watchmen to prepare
For the fierce Sir Nicholas, who soon would be there.
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The children all hid in terror, shielding their heads,
Terrified of the Kringle crew that they so dread;
The archers readied their bows, the rogues made their traps,
And the mages consulted their books, spells and maps.
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Then suddenly arose a mighty roar of rage,
The white-bearded devil had come free of his cage;
No longer bound, for only this brief winter season,
His time had come, without cause and without reason.
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In a fury came this man, who once was called St. Nick,
Whose despair had caused his mind to become quite sick.
For you see, not always was Santa such a foul beast,
But rather, he once was gentle, to say the least,
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He loved each of Aetheria's good humanoids,
And every Christmas, he'd bring them many gold coins.
But as the years dragged on, his Naughty List grew large,
While his Good List shrank as relic fever took charge;
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"How could this be?" wondered and pondered the old man,
"Why do so few try to be as Good as they can?"
So one day in disguise, Nick flew to Avendell
And polled an adventurer he found to pray tell:
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"Where have the Good people gone, why all of this greed?"
And the response he got planted in him a seed;
One so malicious, so devious, and so foul,
That its mentioning is a sore note, even now.
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"Why old man, you are a fool, stuck in your old ways;
People desire not dutiful honor and praise,
But instead want to loot, to conquer and plunder,
To wear the best gear that planar gods can muster."
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Outraged and incensed, Nick then solemnly decreed
That all Aetheria must suffer for its misdeeds;
In a rampage that Christmas began Nick's onslaught,
For instead of presents, it was battle he brought.
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He fought bravely but lost, that first bloody Winter,
Undeterred, he vowed to return next December;
And so each snowfall, around this time of the year,
All factions prepare for when Nick's vengeance draws near.
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But even when united, Claus is not easy
As his minions are many and his rage-a-plenty;
His eyes a fierce-some gaze and his scars crimson red,
Kringle's entry ensures a myriad of dead.
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Us warriors shall fight the Red Menace once more,
For we fear not this Legend of the North Pole's Lore.
In fact you can see him coming at this moment,
Ready your swords, our strength and valor we'll show him.
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See the stump of a pipe, held tight in his teeth,
How the smoke encircles his head like a devil's wreath;
Look, now here he comes! Here's our chance, strike fast and hard!
His magic is strong, his health high, his person armed,
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But for Aetheria's warriors, he's no match!
Keep at it, show him that he's picked too tough a batch.
We've got him, hear him exclaim, as he falls out of sight,
"One day I'll get you all, I'll be back next Christmas night!"
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