2019 Christmas Poem
A Story of Hope for all D&D Players
‘Twas the Blight before Critmas when all through the shop,
not a goblin was stirring from dungeon to top.
All the mailers were stacked in the white bins with care,
In the hopes that the mail driver soon would be there.
Chonky dires were nestled all snug in their trays,
While the boxes of polymer went on for days.
And Jess in her workshop and Todd in his tower
Had just settled in for their 20th hour.
When up from the warehouse there came a sharp wail
They both ran to the stairwell to check on the mail.
Away to the dungeon they flew with their might
Fearing all would be lost on this cold winter night.
The moon filtered down through the windows so high
And gave low-level light to the scene from the sky.
When what to their darkvision sight should appear
But a party of gnolls and an angry bugbear!
With a small chanting wizard, so sly and so creeper
They knew without Googl’ing: he must be the Reaper.
His minions were tearing the mailers and boxes
And snuffling through them like so many foxes.
He scourged them and drove them with foul dev’lish curses
While light from his staff, the dark gloom then disburses.
“Find the dice,” he commands, with a slash of his hand,
“Get the towers and scrolls with the DHD brand!
I must have all the gear, and I’ll take it tonight.
By the time they find out t’will be morning and light.”
As the owners looked on them in horror and dread,
The maniacal beasts loaded up a black sled.
But thinking of shoppers they can’t disappoint,
Their weapons our heroes then grab and anoint.
The duo stride forth with a valiancy strong
And confront the dark specter to right this great wrong.
“Now STOP!”, they command him, “Explain yourself, villain!
Or we summon our goblins and they’ll start the killin’!”
The war-caster turned, and he spied the bright couple,
But spoke in a voice that was gentle and supple.
“Oh, no, my dear friends, no…you misunderstand!
I don’t pilfer these gifts for myself or my band.
“I am merely an envoy for Hells down below
With the devils and kytons, where river Styx flows.
The hell hounds and nightmares, the imps and the hags
They all envy the mortals’ full dice chests and bags.
“We’ve no Amazon Prime, and no discounted shipping
No UPS driver will risk Balor whipping.
No Die Hard Dice website, no Critical Role,
No, we can’t even get a dice tray or a scroll.
We all want to play a half-elf or a rogue
Or a duergar dwarf with a thick Irish brogue.
But alas, for us devils, there’s no D&D.
And that’s why I need all these packages, see?”
Todd and Jessie then pitied the gloomy enchanter,
Impressed by the unselfish tone of his candor.
They thought of their games and the friendships they’d bound
At the tables and battlemaps all gathered ‘round.
Why can’t the nine hells and the native infernals
Have role-play and form those same friendships eternal?
They lowered their weapons and called up the team
And explained the sad plight and the dark wizard’s scheme.
The goblins then hurried to load up the sleigh,
Calculating the restock would take them all day.
But the redundant work didn’t matter that much
As they pictured the games and the lives they would touch.
“Some freebies, as well, and a hand-written note!”,
Smiled the owners who clutched a small paper they wrote.
“And if you don’t mind, as you leave us to go,
You will give our regards to Asmodeus below.”
“We’re happy his devils will now get to play,
And perhaps that will keep them down out of our way.
But beware the worst foe: to arrange a firm date
That will work for all fiends with no need for debate.”
The man cracked a smile, and let out a soft snort
Then he turned and he climbed up his loaded transport.
“When Satan DMs,” Reaper said with a look,
“You show up and play any day he might book.”
The gnolls took their places beside the bugbear;
With the goblins all waving they rose in the air.
Todd and Jess heard proclaimed as he flew from their sight
“At last D&D for all, and to all, a GOOD FIGHT!”
~by Myn, the DHD Distribution Elf