ChaosLenny
12-15-2010, 02:17 PM
Here is a bit of Christmas fun with an Malifaux twist (and a sprinkling of plagiarism)...enjoy:)
It was a night in Malifaux, when all through the land
Sinners and saints would try a final hand.
Wards and charms hung on windows with fear.
In hopes than Uncle Seamus would stay far and clear.
The children trembled with teeth clenched tight.
Hoping to survive the games of the night.
My guardsmen beside me and Peacebringer at my side.
I began my patrol with eyes kept wide…
When from the streets of City there arouse such laughter.
I ran from post to see what was a matter.
Down streets long abandoned I flew like a flash.
Drawing my Peacebringer from its sash.
The twin moons high in the sky unclouded with snow
Illuminated the darkest horrors that dwell below.
When to my fear stricken eyes what did appear?
But a gentleman in top hat and coterie of fear.
With a spring in his step so lively and quick.
I prayed in the moment it was only madness playing a trick.
More rapid than eagles his consorts they came.
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now. Molly! Now. Sybelle! Now. Isabelle you vixens!
On harlots of the night and the things I have risen!
Rise up from the darkness past deaths wall!
Now slash away! Now slash away! Spill blood from them all!”
As dry leaves before the winter storm fly.
Every man, woman, and child in their path, but fated to die
So through the city like dancers they flew.
With hearts full of malice, and old Uncle Seamus too.
And then, in twinkling. ‘I heard from behind me
The prancing and dancing most frightening.
As ‘I drew my head and was turning around.
From the darkness of the alley Uncle Seamus came with a bound.
He was dressed all in faded finery, from his head to his foot.
And his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot.
A leather satchel of tools that worked as his pack.
Gleaming horrors worse than any torture’s rack.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon led me to know the meaning of dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
My guardsman companion throat slit with a jerk:
And laying his finger aside of his nose.
And gave me a nod as if he had composed a piece of prose.
He sprang away and to his ladies he gave a whistle.
And they all pranced away like down flying off a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as they danced out of sight.
“Merry Sleeper’s Eve to all, and to all a good night!”
It was a night in Malifaux, when all through the land
Sinners and saints would try a final hand.
Wards and charms hung on windows with fear.
In hopes than Uncle Seamus would stay far and clear.
The children trembled with teeth clenched tight.
Hoping to survive the games of the night.
My guardsmen beside me and Peacebringer at my side.
I began my patrol with eyes kept wide…
When from the streets of City there arouse such laughter.
I ran from post to see what was a matter.
Down streets long abandoned I flew like a flash.
Drawing my Peacebringer from its sash.
The twin moons high in the sky unclouded with snow
Illuminated the darkest horrors that dwell below.
When to my fear stricken eyes what did appear?
But a gentleman in top hat and coterie of fear.
With a spring in his step so lively and quick.
I prayed in the moment it was only madness playing a trick.
More rapid than eagles his consorts they came.
And he whistled and shouted and called them by name:
“Now. Molly! Now. Sybelle! Now. Isabelle you vixens!
On harlots of the night and the things I have risen!
Rise up from the darkness past deaths wall!
Now slash away! Now slash away! Spill blood from them all!”
As dry leaves before the winter storm fly.
Every man, woman, and child in their path, but fated to die
So through the city like dancers they flew.
With hearts full of malice, and old Uncle Seamus too.
And then, in twinkling. ‘I heard from behind me
The prancing and dancing most frightening.
As ‘I drew my head and was turning around.
From the darkness of the alley Uncle Seamus came with a bound.
He was dressed all in faded finery, from his head to his foot.
And his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot.
A leather satchel of tools that worked as his pack.
Gleaming horrors worse than any torture’s rack.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon led me to know the meaning of dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work.
My guardsman companion throat slit with a jerk:
And laying his finger aside of his nose.
And gave me a nod as if he had composed a piece of prose.
He sprang away and to his ladies he gave a whistle.
And they all pranced away like down flying off a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim as they danced out of sight.
“Merry Sleeper’s Eve to all, and to all a good night!”