Twas the night before Vanguard, and
all through the game

The GMs were striving to make the bugs tame.

The fans found it too hard to just sit and wait.

They wanted to try it, to know it was great.

Everyone signaled offline for the
night

Getting their sleep for tomorrow's delight.

Just me all alone now glued to a blank view--

I'd finished with Guild Wars and WoW and EQ.

Then, all of a sudden, a pattern
so bleary

Appeared on my comp, made my eyes very teary.

When what to my watering eyes filled the screen

But visions of Jeric, Idara, Mateen.

These characters faded and new pics
appeared.

I scratched my head, sighed, and felt really quite weird.

The years that I'd waited for next day to come…

Could it be that tonight is when Vanguard would run?

I
watched the screen closely and thought, "There's the lad!"

Because, as a pop-up, sprang devs led by Brad.

He grinned at his team then looked me in the eye

And said, "Is it true that you eat pumpkin pie?"

I gulped and I nodded. What else
could I say?

Brad said, "I need you to do something, 'kay?

"I want to make sure that my game is previewed

"By those Cindy picked. Can you get the whole brood?"

His words hit me full like a gallon
of ale.

My knees started knocking, my face turned quite pale.

"Okay, Brad, you got it but how should I do

"This thing that you ask, what course to pursue?"

He gave me a wink and then whistled
a tune,

This whimsical ranger we call Aradune.

And loudly he sang as he called out each name

Of the Fansites Affiliate promoting his game.

"Tell Druid's Grove, Silky,
tell Epic and Crafters,

"Sing out the good news, let it ring in the rafters;

"Tell them to hurry, before it's too late,

"This is their chance to give Vanguard a rate.

"Tell
esp and Die Gemeinde, tell Gate, Jeuxonline,

"Persistants and Welten and Spheres so divine.

"Tell Diplo and Fighters and Lost Company.

"Let Safehouse and all know where they need to be.

"Tell Stratics and Ten Ton. By jove, please write faster!

"Tell Warcry, Xvanguard, yes, tell each site master.

"Tonight is the night that Vanguard is unveiled

"Be sure to get addies, so each is emailed."

I nodded and brought up my main email
folder

And frantically typed while the night just grew colder.

I didn't like missing the show that was playing

With Brad and his cronies and what they were saying.

When at last I was finished and turned
to the scene,

Old Brad he was talking to devs lean and mean

He told them their work was about to be seen,

Their sekrit sauce open, their take of his dream

They grinned and they cheered and
they hailed their big hero,

Despite all the times they had thought him a Nero.

And as they all capered about on the field,

The curtains were opened and beauty revealed.

The game was as great as we'd all
often heard,

And not one Affiliate murmured a word.

The wonders of Telon, the graphics, the fun

Had all of us cheering, yes, every last one.

We turned to our character creation
screen

And browsed through the options made by that great team.

I lovingly sent my new main into play--

I tell you it was my most wonderful day.

I turned to say thank you to those
who had done

This vision of wonder, this work of great fun.

Then Aradune smiled as he winked with one eye,

And leaped to his steed and rode off with a "'Bye!"

And so ends this wonderous tale of
hope filled

May your gameplay be merry and each mob be killed.

If Santa could bring me one gift I'd enjoy,

Please let it be Vanguard, my favorite toy.

*Twas the night before Christmas

by Clement Clarke Moore (1882)

Twas the night before Christmas,
when all through the house

Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,

In hopes that St Nicholas soon would be there.

The children were nestled all snug
in their beds,

While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads.

And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,

Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the lawn there arose
such a clatter,

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.

Away to the window I flew like a flash,

Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen
snow

Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below.

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,

But a miniature sleigh, and eight tinny reindeer.

With a little old driver, so lively
and quick,

I knew in a moment it must be St Nick.

More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name!

"Now Dasher! now, Dancer! now,
Prancer and Vixen!

On, Comet! On, Cupid! on, on Donner and Blitzen!

To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!

Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild
hurricane fly,

When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky.

So up to the house-top the coursers they flew,

With the sleigh full of Toys, and St Nicholas too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard
on the roof

The prancing and pawing of each little hoof.

As I drew in my head, and was turning around,

Down the chimney St Nicholas came with a bound.

He was dressed all in fur, from his
head to his foot,

And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot.

A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a peddler, just opening his pack.

His eyes-how they twinkled! his dimples
how merry!

His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!

His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,

And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow.

The stump of a pipe he held tight
in his teeth,

And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath.

He had a broad face and a little round belly,

That shook when he laughed, like a bowlful of jelly!

He was chubby and plump, a right
jolly old elf,

And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself!

A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,

Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

He spoke not a word, but went straight
to his work,

And filled all the stockings, then turned with a jerk.

And laying his finger aside of his nose,

And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!

He sprang to his sleigh, to his team
gave a whistle,

And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.

But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,

"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night!"

All artwork created by Niborea, used with permission