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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Andion Isurand" data-source="post: 2559284" data-attributes="member: 10062">Alrighty then, this one's for The ClearingT'was the night before Yule and all through the clearing,not a blade was found ringing and no spellbattle searing.Left over corpses were buried in the ground with care,in hopes they wouldn't spoil the next morning's air.The drow were tranced deeply, smug in their heads.Visions had them killing their rivals in their beds.Vampires in their coffins and dragons in their lairs,had just settled in with new crossbred love affairs.Then out in the wood there arose such a clatter,many came to the clearing to take part in the matter.Through tavern windows, bodies flew with a flash,many creatures torn open and trampled in the dash.Mobs of heroes and villans fought in the new fallen snow,dancing around each other with awesome powers to show.When, how to my wondering eyes could they all disappear,swords slashing from behind as they instantly reappear?With the old hot tempers flaring, so lively and quick,I knew in a moment, I was going to be sick.More rapid than a thought, they put themselves to shame,as I withheld shouting "Munchkins!" and calling them by name.*holds tounge*As dry leaves that before the wild chant fly,their one-liners were drier still, as they all leapt into the sky.Far over the canopy-top shouting curses they flew,waving their uber swords, barking with little else to do.And then, in a twinkling, I heard through the canopy,a comment out of character, made just to make fun of me.As I threw back my head and was turning around,I laughed at the comment, filled with bigotry so profound.All around were dressed in their finest from head to foot,tarnished not with a trace of blood, ashes or soot.Bundles of magic items waited in every holding sack.Each sword was 'the' best and turned every spell back.Their eyes--how they flamed! So stupid, it was scarry!Their cheeks like roses, battle-grazed just barely!Their little mouths were drawn up into perpetual sneers,and spoke words with no purpose but to sling jeers.The same dead horse was held tight in their teeth,and they tugged and pulled at it as I sighed in grief.As onlookers kept flat faces and the chuckles steady,children threw tantrums with more swords at the ready.Most were part-dragon, werebeasts, vampiric, or dark elven,and in spite of myself, I laughed (again) when I saw them.A search of the board, a brief glance at a new thread,reminded me further of the old clichès that I dread.They spoke not a word, I would suffer myself to speak,and I found myself rise above this lesser breed of geek.Saluting with single fingers, they threw all dignity aside,and led me into fits of knowing laughter, deep inside. Then all left to go thier own way, still aloof and smug,to suffer in their reality, without the ISRP drug.But I heard one exclaim, 'ere he logged off the site,"Happy Yule to y'all, and I'll beat you again tommorrow night!"////////////////////////////////////////////////////*sighs to subdue his laughter*Man, what can I say?  The trends are classic.</blockquote>

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