Happy Holidays from the Underdark
Added 2020-12-24 22:29:42 +0000 UTC‘Twas the night before Coldhearth, / And throughout the deep,
People take what they can, / And protect what they keep.
But just once every year, / Whe’er alive or unliving,
A world of ambition, / Has one night of giving.
It’s that cranky old duergar, / Saint Kreigel the Pale,
Who wakes up amidst old jugs / Of mulled wine or ale,
And roams through the dark / With his great Bag of Holding,
A long ashen beard, / To conceal all his scolding.
He arrives in thick vestments, / All dyed red with gore,
A great carriage driven / By black steeders four,
And hands out small gifts / To all those he should choose,
Be they surfacer, myconid, / Drow, dwarf, or ooze.
But Kriegel cares not / For the wicked or kind,
They mean not a thing / To the contract he’s signed,
It’s duty that drives him, / Unfeeling and grim,
To wander and gift-give, / Throughout caverns dim.
So should you be chosen / To take what he offers,
Give not any thanks, / Nor gold from your coffers,
He’d do you far worse, / Had the dwarf any say,
So three cheers to Coldhearth! / The deep’s darkest day!
