Another new Rendition of an old classic!

‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all on the boards,
Not a gamer was stirring, not Alliance, not Horde;

Nine stockings were hung by that old chimney chute,
In hopes that GMs would give them phat lewt.

The lowbies were /sleeping all snug in their beds,
While visions of Sulfuras danced in their heads.

And Mamma in her ‘kerchief, and me in my helm,
Had just settled down for repairs to our realm.

When up on the lawn there arose such a clamor,
I sprang from the chair, and snatched my AV rep hammer.

I rushed to the window, as if I’d used Charge,
Looked out at the moon, quite silver and large.

That moon, shining all over the land silent and snow-y,
Lit up like Crusader, all white and glowy.

When what should appear to my wondering eyes,
But a sleigh, pulled by shadows of varying size.

With a big Tauren driver, a Druid, I’d say,
And I knew in an instant it must be our Cay.

More rapid than gryphons, her coursers they came,
And she /whistled, and /shouted, and called them by name.

“Now Furbolg! Now Murloc! Now Human and Troll!
On, Magni! On, Staghelm! On, Earthen and Gnoll!

To the top of Blackrock! To the top of Hyjal!
Now sprint away, sprint away, sprint away all!”

As dry leaves before the Druid Hurricane fly,
When faced with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So, up to the house-top the coursers they flew,
With the sled full of goodies, and Caydiem too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof,
The pawing and clomping of a big Tauren hoof.

As I drew back my hand, and mouse-turned around,
Down the chimney our Caydiem came with a bound.

She was covered in fur, from her head to her foot,
And her Wildheart Robes were all covered in soot.

A bundle of loot she had flung on her back,
And she looked like an NPC opening their pack.

Her eyes—they did sparkle! Her snout—how it dimpled!
And I think that her horns, they were covered in tinsel!

Her big Tauren mouth was spread wide in a grin,
And I wondered perhaps I had drank too much gin.

She wore, ‘round her collar, Cenarion shoulders,
Which, on a Tauren, were bigger than boulders;

She had two long horns and a big Tauren belly,
Which shook when she laughed, like a bowl full of jelly.

She looked friendly and happy, a jolly old cow,
And I smiled as I saw her, and gave her a /bow;

A wink of her eye let me know “there’s no trouble,”
So I needn’t be feeling a strong need to bubble.

She spoke not a word, but went right to her stuff,
And filled all the stockings with epics and buffs.

Then laid a finger aside her long Tauren nose,
And giving a /wave, up the chimney she rose;

She jumped to her sleigh, to her team gave a whistle,
And away they all rode, with the speed of Swiftthistle.

And as she rode past the moon, I heard her exclaim,
“Happy Christmas to all… and to all a good game!”

[ post edited by Necromonger ]