Outer Tilog (Realm)/Holiday

Have an Early Death

Adapted to Outer Tilog by Alynna

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Erlang's nuts roasting on an open fire
Qaleb the Conjurer nipping off your nose
Bloodtide carols being strangled out of a choir
And folks dressed up like Dethargos

Everybody knows some Woefix and some Pen G'uin toe
Help to make for a tasty dinner right
Tiny tots with their parents all aglow
Will find it hard to sleep at night

They know that Triodoccio's on his way
He's loaded lots of horses
And corpses on his sleigh
And every mother's child is gonna cry
To see if Despyria really know how to torture and fry

And so, I'm offering this simple phrase
To kids from one to one thousand two and ninety-two
Although its been said
Many times, many ways
Have an early death! Have a bloody death! Outer Tilog killed, you!

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The Night Before Christmas

Adapted to Outer Tilog by Zane Ilwaukim

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'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the dungeon not a creature was stirring except for that blood-sucking louse.
The sacrificial serfs were all hung by the iron maiden with care, in hopes that Lord Cthulhu would soon be there.
The peons were nestled all snug in there cells, while visions of fire ants danced in their heads.
Despyria in her stilettos and I in my spiffy robes, had just settled down for a bit of Blood Ale;
When out in the courtyard arose such a clatter. I sprang from the divan to see what was the matter.
Away to the window I flew in great haste, tore open the shutters and threw up the grate.
The full moon on the new-fallen blood gave the luster of mid-day to the objects below.
When what to my wandering eyes should appear, but a miniature sleigh with eight tiny basilisks!
With an undead old driver, so putrid and quick, whose visage made even I a little bit sick
More rapid than shades his mounts they came, and he whistled and shouted, and called them by name.
"Now, Delirium. Now, Hatred. Now, Pestilence and Pain. On, Famine! On, Strife! On, Agony and Maim! To the top of the tower! To the top of the wall! Now dash away dash away dash away all!"
As dry leaves before the wild hurricane fly, when the meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.
So up to the citadel-top the basilisks they flew, with a sled full of thumbscrews and old Lich King, too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of eight beasts' clawed hoof.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around, oozing through the wall came the Undead Lord with nary a sound.
And his robes were all tarnished with ashes and soot; a bundle of pain he had flung on his back. And he looked like a monster long-dead when opening his pack.
His eyes - how they smoldered! His face was quite scary!
His cheeks were all sunken, his nose all shriveled and shrunken!
His droll gaping maw was drawn up in a sneer, and the bones of his face showed through quite clear.
The stump of a cigar was clenched in rotting teeth, and the smoke of it encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a broad face and a cavernous sunken belly the sight of which turned my knees to jelly.
He was cadaverous and gaunt, no jolly old elf. I cried out in fear in spite of myself.
A wink of a lidless eye and a twisting off a servant's head soon gave me know I had very much to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work; and eviscerated all the serfs, yanking their guts out with a jerk.
Laying a bony finger aside his rotting stump of a nose, and giving a nod, through the ceiling he again rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his foul team he gave a whistle and away they all flew like the blood from the headman's trestle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight:
"A horrid Christmas to all, and to all a foul night!"