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Old 12-02-2005, 05:56 AM   #1
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Default Post your Xmass Stories

As part of the Xmass season we are looking for your everquest christmass stories. Post the stories until Friday Dec 10th, when we will post the better ones and have the server vote on the best christmass story.

A small prize will be given to the winner.

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Old 12-06-2005, 05:53 AM   #2
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Wintertime stories qualify? Per se, Christmas doesn't really exist in EQ...
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Old 12-06-2005, 02:24 PM   #3
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I would think so yes. (/em checks how many replies have posted so far).

Any story's a good one
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Old 12-07-2005, 07:14 PM   #4
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Default I wrote a Filk poem tonight

'Twas the raid before Christmas, when all through the guild
The guildleader was stirring, the zone was too filled;

The clerics were medding and trying to care,
In hopes that a main tank soon would be there;

The children were up and screaming at mother,
While dinner was burning because of young brother;

And mom's toon was sneaking past the last scary mob,
while daddy lay sleeping after eight beers, that slob!

When on the raid channel there arose such a clatter,
Everyone looked to see what was the matter.

COTHing in to the zone came the wood elven tank,
In red colored cloth, and a Gunthak era plank

The doods were all screaming that weapon does blow
The ratio is wrong and Lucy says it is slow,

When then to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a giant dragon boss mob, who made me know fear,

Before any could start, on our guildchat too quick,
Our guildleader screamed, his language was sick.

More rapid than his temper, the MT engaged,
The guildleader typed fast, he was really enraged;

"Run Dasher! Zone Dancer! Feign Prancer and Vixen!
Zone Comet! Zone Cupid! Camp Donder and Blitzen!

To the line of the zone! To the login screen all!
Now feign away! zone away! dash away all!"

As people got confused before they started to fly,
They spied the red tank, who didn't quite die,

and they looked at the mob to see what went on,
He made one swing at the him, and it wasn't a con

And they were not stunned, it wasn't a bug
The mob was quite dead, laying down like a rug

As I ducked to stop spells, as the guild turned around
The dragon was down not making much sound

Kerrans licked thier fur, halfings combed thier feet,
But the red clothed tank said, "we are in for a treat"

A bundle of lewts he had linked on the /GU,
He said that the fight was too easy to do.

We come here each sunday, its just not that scary
Instead of just fighting, we decided to tarry

His phat lewts were rolled out, including a bow,
As stuff came all over, and boots made for SoW;

Too many were given, that no longer dropped
it kept right on coming, and it never stopped

The necros looked happy, one was dancing with a skelly,
They got real upgrades, while half watching the telly

In came to the zone, with a name of lime green
A GM it was, and he was new to the scene

A glint in his eye as he started say
I am sorry to you, you wanted to play

It may seem unfair, and really ham fisted
A roll back is coming, the servers have listed

People screamed in their homes, fingers raised to the sky,
that division of Sony is run by some guy

His organ does double as a two penny whistle
and deserves a long ride on my throbbing meat missile

But I heard the help desk, and the action was defended,
"All Everquest content was working as Intended"

(Welcome to copy if you include "filked by Dom")
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Old 12-08-2005, 07:10 PM   #5
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Default Hopes of a New Year, Part 1

Cold defined my world. The temperate climes of the Planes had dulled my resistance to swimming the icy waters of the river which surrounded Halas, and I longed for the warmth of my polar bear cap of old. The Chained Helm of Insanity (aptly named <grin>) had its benefits, but it was not as warm.

The Yuletide season brought me back, for it is our custom that with the ending of a year upon Winter Solistice's Eve, debts must be repaid, grievances forgiven, and life begin anew.

December's snows
Blanket the dirt
A clean slate upon which
The hopes of a new year
Are writ

Margyn, the shaman guildleader, greeted me as I entered the lodge. Many years had passed since I had garnered my last spell from her, but she had remembered me well enough to summon me here, and remembered her well enough to return.

"The is Nazar", she said, introducing a scrawny high-elf lad, no doubt of fewer summers than my boots had seen. "He needs to travel to Oggok to return Fuga's kitten, and then back home to Felwithe. For reasons I can not disclose, he can not travel by portal or book. There are few who remember the old ways, my student. Will you do me the favor of escorting him?"

That explained the white and black-spotted blur of motion that was circling elf, mewing occasionally and clawing at his robes. The elf looked about as comfortable as, well, an elf about to face certain and humiliating death could. I doubted that I could get his fragile frame past BlackBurrow alive. My doubt showed, for Margyn continued:

"He is not without skills. He has the ability to disappear, or blend in with other races as needed. But he will require your assistance in the journey."

I had so many better things I could be doing. That needed doing. Yuletide was a time of family, of festivals, of feasting. But it was Margyn asking. I nodded my acceptance.

The elf, kitten, and I made our way across the river via raft this time. I suspected the kitten would last longer on the journey than the elf, but I would do my part to see him safely through.
To be continued
Fafner Wabbitslayer, Retired Shaman of Reviction, Erollisi Marr/Morell Thule
"This story shall the good man teach his son;...
From this day to the ending of the world,"
-- William Shakespeare, Henvy V, Act 4, Scene 3
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Old 12-08-2005, 07:24 PM   #6
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Default Here is our entry

This is an original poem by Brillig Borogoves (originally Morell Thule Server now Erollisi Marr Server) originally posted 12/14/01 then reposted 12/14/02 on our guild message boards at I am his wife so I can submit it for him since he never wanted to post it in the first place years ago tee hee!

BTW this is Plane of Hate BEFORE the revamp for you older ones. Younger folks may not get some of the inside jokes such as staying off the wall.


'Twas a night during Raid time,
When all through the guild,
Not a person was chatting, all had been killed;
The naked were huddled 'round the South Ro spire,
And looked at each other as their state was dire;

The clerics were dead and the monk failed feigned death,
The others looked on and just held their breath;
"What happened?" asked some in a tone uttered low,
"I'm not sure." replied most still shocked from the blow,
When out of the confusion rose a single lone tell,
"The safe spot is now clear and soon all will be well."
"Who is that?" queried some and others shrugged back,
Some tells were sent but no reply did come back.

The party urged on by the surprising event
Now cheered and rejoiced as messages sent
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
A ninety-six percent rez box for me, click here,
The speed of the boxes, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment he must have the stick!

More rapid than healing his rezzes they came,
With no medding, he clicked, and called them by name:
Rez, Groger! Rez, Syfun! Rez, Brillig and Lenny!
Rez, Skinny! Rez, Methoes! Rez Drewit and Teniy!
To the safe spot again! Stay down off the wall!
Now let's all kill Inny and we'll have a ball!

Next, the puller was pulling mobs with all of her might,
We had cleared the first floor with not much of a fight,
So up to the second floor the raid force did go,
Everyone was fine except for one stubbed big toe.
And then, the party gathered and all saw from there
Inny, that retch, the reason why we are here.

The battle commenced with some help from a blade,
Inny's health is down and continues to fade.
The whole raid shouts out in woohoo's and a woot
The main tank goes over to look at the loot.
A gnome enchanter got an Engineer's Ring!
She was so happy she forgot to yell DING!
A human monk received the Rakusha Cloak,
And it could not have gone to a nicer bloak;
The other items were split up to the rest,
They were rolled upon and given to the best;

Attention was now turned to the mystery one,
All we got out of him was that his job was done.
Although he looked no different than you or I,
We offered loot or money and many did try;
With a wink of his eye and then he did say,
Be good to everyone and you'll soon see it pay;

He took not a cent, but went straight to his work,
Healing all the tanks to take out the big jerk,
And memming his gate spell he stood with a smile,
He brought good cheer to all at least for awhile;

He started to cast gate, a good deed he had done,
Inny was now dead and Faveo had just won.
But I heard him exclaim, as he let out a woot,
"Happy Raiding to all, and to all some good loot."
Nynnia N'Mare
Certified Train Breaker......and maker

Aaldari Drachenfuer
Undead Hunter and perpetually drunken wench

Proud Founder, Officer, and Message Board Administrator of:
Faveo Sulum Ipsemet Ascio (The Edgers)
originally of the Morell Thule Server
Just call us Cornered Badgers because that's what we fight like!
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Old 12-09-2005, 06:08 PM   #7
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Default Hopes of a New Year, Part 2

continued from above
Halfway through Karana, I discovered the kitten had chewed through one of my backpacks and devoured three times its body weight in Halas meat pies. At least it had left the Spiced Beer alone.

"Your job is to keep the kitten out of mischief", I told Nazar. Which went over about as well as telling a teen of any race of a chore. His sullen glaze was pierced with a flare of temper.

"Who are you to tell me what to do?" he replied

I held forth my Time's Antithesis - a 6 foot long gold and gem encrusted four pronged spear ablaze in eternal flame. "I pried this from the dead hands of Saryrn of the Plane of Time."

It's kind of sad when your lesser gear is from dead gods - these days the good stuff comes from, well, interdimensional beings that we don't even have names for. At least not pronounceable ones. But I like the spear, and it does tend to draw the eye.

"Did she let a kitten eat your food too?"

I laughed. Well, at least the kid had a sense of humor. I decided to try a less aggressive tack. "You keep the kitten safe, I'll keep you safe". I figured I had the easier part of the deal - I knew Lake Rathe was coming up, and it's a long lake to swim with a cat.

"Who is Margyn to tell you what to do, if you can slay a god?". He was still riled. Not used to be being told what to do, and very keen on wanting to know where in the hierarchy I stood. Pfft - I'm not sure there's even an answer to that one, and if there is, I'm not interested in knowing the answer.

"A teacher. From long ago." said I.

Her plain garb was probably a stark contrast to mine, and I would imagine my casting prowess had long ago eclipsed hers. But I still remember working for patchwork armor from Cindl, and thinking that I would be lucky to possess half the spells of the great shaman guild leaders of Halas. And in our mind's eye, who we are never seems to change or age.

"My father is a great and powerful guild master in Felwithe", he bragged.

"So what brought you to Halas?"

"I needed access to books of enchantment in the library of Paineel. To obtain access to them, the librarian had me obtain scrolls from Margyn, who in turn wanted the kitten returned." I chuckled to myself - ahh, the endless errand running of the old world elite. Always something to be conveyed somewhere far away, for something unknown reason. As if Margyn couldn't return the kitten on her own. But they have their ways, and they are probably ultimately for the best. I'd have never learned these lands if I hadn't spent my youth running from one end of Norrath to the other.

"Some lost tome of Miragul's?" The elf's gasp told me I had guess right. But such tricks are easy - there's only so many reasons why a librarian in Paineel would care about something in Halas. And my gamble succeeded in keeping him quiet for the rest of the way. Probably trying hard to hide his thoughts from my soothsaying.

Luckily, levitation kept everyone dry across Lake Rathe, and after some more travels, we arrived at Oggok.

It wasn't until we reach Fuga that Nazar realized that the kitten was missing.
To be continued

Last edited by FafnerMorell; 12-16-2005 at 07:05 PM.
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Old 12-09-2005, 06:31 PM   #8
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The Wintertime Cupid

A long time ago, a young dwarf received some bad news. She had an ailment that the priesthood of clerics could cure, but it required platinum, more than she had, and try as she may, she could not get the priesthood to accept a lifetime supply of Brell’s blessed ale as payment. She even took her plea to King Kazon Stormhammer but alas no luck.

She thought for a while on what she could do, and finally she came up with an idea. Christmas time is coming, and every year the merchants cry out for help; they get so weighed down with all the money and items they sell. By the end of the night, they are exhausted and have no time to count their earnings, so help is always welcome.

After speaking with a few shopkeepers, she found one willing to accept her into their home and allowed her to help them make sure money and packages were delivered from one location to the next, across Odus, Antonica, Faydwer and Kunark. The storekeeper owned other stores and so more helpers came. The store requested help from the elven guards, asking them to help deliver the money from the merchants to the helpers.

The guards went far away, delivering to and taking from merchants and even from some famous scoundrals, from rich Gornit to tight-fisted Allizewsaur in Ocean of Tears, High Scale Kurn , Phinigel Atropos, Drusella Sathirand even Phara Dar himself.

Day in and day out, the elven guards brought their collections to the helpers, rarely taking the time to stop and chat with the overworked dwarves … until one day things changed.

~~ to be continued ~~
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Old 12-10-2005, 10:21 AM   #9
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“Christmas Joy”

Neither of us were looking for it; it came upon us like a Christmas present – that joyous, giddy, wonderful feeling of love. You know the feeling, when every movement, every breath he or she takes is registered in your mind; when every word, every glance seems to mean more unspoken than spoken; when life is vibrantly bright around you.

It happened at work over the course of a week, and with the help of Cupid, one of Santa’s elfin guards, bullet proof glass doors… and an intercom system. For where we worked, there cameras and many protections so that the money that changed hands, made it safely too and from the elves and the dwarves.

I noticed Miasma; his partner noticed me noticing Miasma. The clues: subtle glances, telltale blushes on my dwarven cheeks and pheromone levels rising when we were near each other. As we struggled to connect, Santa’s elf (disguised as Franco, Miasma’s partner), assisted by whispering words of encouragement in Miasma’s ear.

“She likes you”. “Ask her out.” “I told you so.”

Another night, Franco decided to push things a bit further. During our 3-person conversation, Franco said something to the effect of “Miasma here always forgets to hand over the paperwork to you lovely dwarves.”

On and on, the encouraging words came until, in a suddenly quick moment one Friday night, December 15 as I recall, Miasma asked me out. From out of the blue came:

“Do you have a boyfriend?”
“No” I replied, shaking my head and smiling.
“Would you like to go out with me?”

I had made a secret Christmas wish that this moment would come, but when it did, I suddenly became shy. Multitudes of thoughts races through my head in a matter of seconds. We’ve only been talking for 4 days, only 15 minutes of time in total. Did I know enough about him to take that risk? Why was he asking me out? Had I flirted too strongly to give him the impression that I was only looking for some wintertime coupling?

While part of my mind whirled with these thoughts, another part was realizing the reality of things.

“Your name’s Miasma, right? Tell Franco thanks for volunteering that bit of information. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No” was the reply.

With my mind only partly made up, I looked at him, eyes twinkling and with (what I hoped was) interest in my voice, I answered with the following:
“Let me think about it.”

I hoped that the tilt in my head, the twinkle in my eyes and my jubilant voice was enough to convey the real message “yes, but not now.”

With that, Miasma left, and I spent the rest of the weekend mentally kicking myself for putting off what I realized was inevitable. Why did I wait? Because I was a shy dwarf, used to chatting with someone for a while before dating – especially with members of another Norrathian race. Waiting until the first date to start learning things about each other had never seemed appropriate before; it had seemed like a waste of time and money, and dwarves were nothing if not careful with money.

Miasma had asked me out, and it was my move next. Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday came, and I was unable to get away for a few minutes long enough to let him know my answer was “yes”. I vowed that Thursday night, no matter what, I would get his phone number.

Thursday came and I had a plan. When Franco and Miasma arrived, I was all full of anticipation I could barely work. My co-workers, boss and friends knew something special was going on and supported what I was doing. When I saw him, we stared and smiled at each other until finally I realized what I had been holding in my hands; a batch of cookies I’d made the night before. I handed them over, with promises of a to-die-for Oreo pudding dessert I’d bring for them the following night. The right moment to ask for his phone number never quite presented itself; I had set up this meeting in my mind, but when it came to it, I was as nervous and shy as always.

When they left, I ran to the intercom and strained to hear what they were saying.
“ … I wanted to talk to her more, but didn’t want to get her in trouble …”

That was all I needed to hear. I grabbed a piece of paper and raced out of the office, through the bullet proof glass doors that always separated the elves from us dwarves, breaking every rule the storekeeper had, chasing after them as if my life (or my heart) depended on it. I caught up with them as they were loading up the truck, and when they were finished, Franco eased out of sight as I pulled Miasma aside.

“It’s kind of difficult to talk up there so I took a break and came down here. Too many eyes and ears if you understand.”

We talked for a few more minutes, exchanged phone numbers, made a date for Saturday night and I told him I’d call the next day.

Friday comes and thank goodness it was a light day, because we talked on the phone for two hours. When we hung up, the rest of the day I floated around the office. There was a glow about me, someone mentioned. The office was filled with romantics, so my breaking the rules was conveniently forgotten.

Life started for this dwarf after that moment; the previous 25 years had just been in preparation for this moment. It felt so right to be together and 10 years later, Miasma and I still think back upon the time that Cupid donned his winter coat and came to Norrath to plink his arrows toward two unsuspecting souls. Thank you Brells for giving us this Christmas joy!
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Old 12-16-2005, 07:06 PM   #10
Warrior 4 the working-day
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: Texas
Posts: 4,629
Continued from above
Fuga was inconsolable to find out that her kitten had been lost. Nazar was upset and defensive, making rambling excuses about how it was not his fault. I figured our best chance of finding a tracker would be South Ro, at the druid circle. After assuring Fuga that we would return with her kitten, we were off.

Innothule Swamp had changed much - I no longer knew who lived in Grobb. Trolls, I guess. The war had left a deep scar on the land.

"Someday, the elves will reclaim these lands. Once they ruled this side of Antonica. Trolls and ogres possess not the wisdom to nurture." chimed in Nazar.

"Ogres seem to care for their kittens better than elves", I countered.

"Ogres and trolls don't care for living things!".

"Fuga's grief for her kitten is quite real. And we need to be concentrating on retrieving it, not arguing over thousand year old grievances."

Our bickering was interrupted by the sight of a ranger up ahead. The ranger didn't even need to backtrack - she had seen a white and black-spotted kitten near a sinkhole in the Oasis. The three of us rushed to the spot, but the kitten was gone. Pawprints clearly led into the depression, and not out. I thanked the ranger and bid her farewell and wished her a happy Yuletide. We cautiously crept down until we could see a stone archway, mostly buried in sand, at the bottom. The pawprints led through it.

"Takish-Hiz", we said in unison, but his voice in glee and mine in reservation. Regardless, we entered. Invisible, of course. The young spellcaster had his skills, but this was not a place for a novice. And I suspected the Takish-Hiz had long since forgotten their elvish brethren on the surface.
To be continued
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Old 12-24-2005, 06:23 AM   #11
Warrior 4 the working-day
Join Date: Mar 2005
Location: Texas
Posts: 4,629
Continued from above
"We're just here to look, not fight. If anything goes wrong, run like the wind for the exit. Keep the exit in mind at all times.", I whispered. I had fought creatures like these before - I didn't think elf-boy's level 4 mez spell was going to help and I knew a single blow would kill him. With a few other experienced folks, we could tear this place up - eventually. But I had the feeling we didn't have much time. Something had summoned the kitten here.

"Don't worry. I come from an old, established family held in the highest regard by all in the land. The Takish-Hiz will respect my authority", he boasted. But at least he was wise enough to stay invisible.

We crept forward, through halls long lined with dust and cobwebs - the pawprints were easy to follow - deeper and deeper into the dungeon they led, in a path which did not branch or dally. Of all the times for a cat not to be curious. The area was more than a building, less than a city. I did not know if inhabitants were alive, undead, or something inbetween. But they had been out of time for thousands of years now. And we were now deep, deep, deep within.

The area opened up into a majestic room with a fountain in the center, water still flowing. A spiral staircase ascended upwards, beyond eye's sight, carved into the rocks of the walls. We followed the tracks up it, climbing about 200 feet upwards until we entered a room at the top.

In there stood a druid High Preservationist, surrounded by six lesser priests. The kitten, was tied to an ornate marble altar in the center of them. I could make out some of the words they were chanting - "with the blood of the beloved of my foe" and "rain of fire, rain of stone upon their lands" seemed to be the refrain.

Obviously these weren't friendly, tree-hugging druids.
To be continued
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Old 12-26-2005, 07:59 AM   #12
Warrior 4 the working-day
Join Date: Mar 2005
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Continued from above
Nazar translated, his voice kept very soft, "They're planning on sacrificing the kitten to unleash a spell that will destroy Feerrott and Oggok. The moon of the Winter Solistice will be directly over us in a few minutes, and their spell will be complete." He pointed to an small opening in the roof, from which the stars in the night sky could be glimped, and a series of slender, delicately-balanced, tall columns arrayed with glass and silver focused moonbeams onto the altar.

"There are too many of them", I replied. In truth, I wasn't sure if I could defeat even the high priest Dorjan by himself. But there was no time to go for aid.

I probably should have kept my message more upbeat, because Nazar decided to take the initiative. He dropped invisibility, and in a loud but shaky voice commanded "Stop! In the name of the elven family Rta'tone, I order you to cease and relinquish the kitten back to me."

Dorjan and his fellow casters did not pause in their ceremony. One shouted for guards while the rest continued their chant.

"You can not destroy the Feerrott and Oggok - too much of this land has already fallen waste due to the centuries of bickering between races. How can a druid bring themselves to kill a defenseless creature whose only crime is to be loved by someone you hate?", continued Nazar. Again, to no effect.

Four guards appeared in the doorway, weapons drawn.

Calling upon the spirits which have guarded me since youth, I summoned forth a pack of wolf spirits to distract them. Their ghostly lupine forms charged over the altar at the guards, and awoke the kitten from its spell-induced trance. Terrified, the kitten leapt off the altar with the force of a mountain lion.

While the cords that held the kitten stayed whole, they were tied to the delicately balanced arrangement of columns, which began to sway violently as the kitten scrambled madly to escape from the ghost wolves. Several of the priests attempted to steady the toppling beams of stone, but with the balance upset, holding them would be no easy task.

"Free the kitten", I shouted. I cast a quick spell to weaken Dorjan's resistance to disease, and then summoned forth spirits to paralyze him. Reeling with nausea, he flew backwards into the largest of the columns, upsetting it as well.

Nazar mezzed the kitten for an instant, quickly cutting its cords with his silver dagger, and then stuffing it into his backpack. The priests and guards were still busily engaged in a futile attempt to restore order to the gyrations of the columns. We dashed out of the room, invised, and ran for the exit. The angry shouts of the Takish-Hiz faded in the distance as we ran from the dungeon, through the desert lands of Ro, and back to Oggok to return the kitten.

Fuga was delighted to see that our mission was accomplished. Nazar accepted her offer to spend Winter Solistice's Eve amongst the ogres (for between his illusions and Fuga's protection, he'd be safe getting a glimpse at how the other half lived. I warned him to limit ale consumption to avoid interfering with his casting). I had to travel back to Halas for family reasons, but would be back in a few days to escort him to Felwithe.

Clicking on my Spiritstone of Everfrost to teleport home, I gazed up at the stars in appreciation and wonder. Another year had passed. The solistices remind us to pause for a moment and reflect on what has been, and what will be. For it is not only in the snows of the northern wastes that the hopes of a new year are writ.

The End - Merry Christmas!
Fafner Wabbitslayer, Retired Shaman of Reviction, Erollisi Marr/Morell Thule
"This story shall the good man teach his son;...
From this day to the ending of the world,"
-- William Shakespeare, Henvy V, Act 4, Scene 3
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