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Poems by Octavius part 1

Looking back at my scroll back today I saw this epic gem.  Very much worth sharing.

'Twas the night before saturday,
when all through the MUD,
not a player was stirring,
not even a Veranxe. 

The criminals were all hung,
from the gallows with care,
in hopes that St Jeshin would soon be there. 

The players were all slumbering,
heck most likely at work,
hoping things would be here when they managed to arrive. 

When suddenly at ten,
who should appear,
but St Luthien with a pack snow beasts,
all set at form level 12. 

On Gouger, on choker, Zakery needs killing. 
On Slash, On fang, we'll kill a Brynne. 
On splatter, on smear, I hear Ruthan is near. 

They call descended upon the arena,
only to find it empty,
no challengers in sight. 

Harrold ignored them,
more amused than anything,
until he settled down for a long evening's nap. 

It was finally midnight,
and a player logged on,
the snow beasts descended upon the poor poor soul. 

It turns out it was ernst,
Ashie in hand,
who soon dispatched the beasts with several flicks of his hands. 

He piled up the corpses,
and burned them with glee,
knowing they were too big to fit in anyone else's chimney. 

As he logged,
he bid the MUD goodnight,
"The Emachine is out and to all a good night!"'


Thanks Octavius, good laugh.
-Vandread