Twas the Last Night of Winter Veil…
Twas the last night of Winter Veil, and all through Khaz Modan
The dwarves gathered ’round their hearths, every woman and man.
The mugs and steins were set on the wooden tables with care,
In the hopes that Greatfather Winter soon would be there.
The wee ones were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sharpshooter rifles danced in their heads.
And Friginne with his ale, and Fizzy with her cheese,
Had just gone inside so they wouldn’t freeze
When at the Gates of Ironforge there arose such a clatter
They ran from the tavern to see what was the matter!
To the statue of King Anvilmar they flew like a flash,
Both running faster than even a feral druid could dash!
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the sparkle of rare gems to objects below,
When what to their wondering eyes should appear,
But a miniature sleigh and eight mechanical reindeer
With a little old driver, chilled to the bone.
They knew immediately it must be a gnome.
Nearly rapid as gryphons his coursers they came,
And he giggled and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Mecha-dash! Now Spincog! Now Swiftbolt and Blinkzen!
On, Arcano-glide! On, Giftgear! On, Tinker and XMAS-2010!
To the top of the Great Forge! To the top of the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash awa– NO! Do NOT malfunction!”
As the dry leaves in a Moonkin’s hurricane fly,
They must also crash to the ground when they fall from the sky.
So did the mechanical reindeer, landing in the snow,
With a sleigh full of gadgets and a disappointed gnome.
And then, in a twinkling, Friginne motioned they hush
And pointed to something moving in the brush.
As Fizzy rubbed an icicle from her nose,
Someone approached on the road from Kharanos.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his toe,
And his cloak, billowing behind him, covered everything in snow.
A bundle of feast food he had flung on his back.
(The gnome hoped there was a spare arclight spanner in the sack.)
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples — how merry!
His cheeks were properly plump, his nose red as 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 good-sized round belly
That shook when he laughed like a bowl full of jelly.
He was both strong and plump, like a proper dwarven man,
And Friginne gave a cheer loud enough for a whole clan!
A wink of the traveler’s eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave the gnome to know he had nothing to dread.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Repaired all the reindeer, then turned with a jerk.
And laying a finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod… disappeared into the snow!
The gnome sprang to his sleigh, singing a merry song,
And off the reindeer flew toward the surface of Gnomeregan.
But the dwarves heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
“Next year, I’m using the turbo-charged kite!”