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Twas The Night Before Siege Perilous: A Holiday Ultima Online Poem

Updated on December 14, 2013

Preface

I have written both prose and poetry before and decided since I will be spending my first Christmas on Siege Perilous it would be a good time to showcase a poem that really encapsulates everything that this shard is. For the past 10 years I could be found on Legends, a shard where I've made friends and best friends alike, but I recently moved to Siege Perilous, a place where murderers, thieves, and good-hearted people try to live peaceably. There have been some growing pains and times when I wished I had returned to my home--but after six months this place has actually now become my home instead.

This poem is written as a tribute to all the kind people I have met, who every day try to exhibit the kind of caring and loving attitude that I took for granted elsewhere. It's a tougher shard and you have to have a tougher skin, but with that comes stronger friendships and many more ways to prove your dedication by sacrificing for your fellow players. I would recommend it if, like me, you were growing tired of the 'same old' and want a new challenge with a chance to make some awesome new friends.

Now without further introductions...



Mesanna, clad in black, walks along the snow-weathered path.
Mesanna, clad in black, walks along the snow-weathered path.

'Twas The Night Before Siege Perilous

'Twas The Night Before Siege Perilous


'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Siege Perilous

Not a creature was stirring, not even Sherry the mouse.

The mailboxes were set to 'everyone' with care.

In hopes that Mesanna soon would be there.


The PvPers were nestled all standing by their beds,

While visions of helpless n00bs danced in their heads.

And gold farmers with their scripts, and I with my AFKing,

Had just shut down our computers for their nightly idling.


When at Luna bank there arose such a clatter,

I gated myself there to see what was the matter.

Away to my runebook, I furiously clicked

Hopped on my polar bear and magically teleported!


As I am an elf the daylight danced on the snow,

Gave Luna a dazzling, ethereal glow.

When, what on my laptop should appear

But a lady clad in black and eight minions drew near!


With a maniacal laugh, so grating and scary

I knew in a moment that it must be Mesanna

More rapid than mongbats her coursers they came,

And she whistled, and cackled, and called them by name!


"Now Calvin! Now, Phoenix! Now, Petra Fyde and Chrissay!

On, TheGrimmOmen! On, Leurocian! On, MrTact and Draconi!

To the top of the bank! To the top of the wall

Now stealth away! Hide and stealth away all!"


As death robes sink quickly into the ground,

So they slunk out without a sound.

And to all the houses the minions crept,

With backpacks full of dyed pies for mailboxes.


And then, in a twinkling, I heard on my own roof

The cursing and groaning of each little stooge.

As I drew up my sword and got out a taxidermy kit,

A polite little knock on my door came with a click.


She was a shadowy visage all dressed in black,

Like a vengeful, wrathful revenant.

With a bundle of pies she had in her backpack,

She looked like death's personal chef.


She looked at my blade and the taxidermy kit,

And invited me to try to test her wits.

Lowering my hilt, I waited for my just desserts,

As she threw a cream pie all over my armaments!


The stump of a mongbat's arm tight in her teeth,

She held up a blood-covered holiday wreath.

She looked at me sternly then sneered,

And nailed the wreath to my front door!


She was the meanest, evilest little dark elf,

But I couldn't help but laugh in spite of myself!

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

Told me I could still end up dead.


She spoke not a word, but went straight to her work,

Filling up my mailbox with cursed doom artifacts.

(But not the good ones: No headdresses or ornaments,

just bone crushers and rings of the elements.)


She nodded at me coldly, then gave her team a glare,

And away they terrifyingly ran right on out of there.

But I heard her exclaim, as she slunk out of sight,

"I hope he chokes a little bit on that pie tonight."

She came, she came! Mesanna really does exist!
She came, she came! Mesanna really does exist!

Postface

I know that to many of my readers this poem may make little--or even no--sense. But that's because it is a parody of many of the fun people and places available for players of Ultima Online. Also, while Mesanna is the current producer and does dress in all black and has a penchant for random killing sprees, she's actually pretty nice and her pies taste very good. Ultima Online, the "grandfather" of MMORPGS, has recently celebrated its 16th anniversary and has no end in sight. So if you are tired of all the other games and want to play a sandbox environment where the only limits are your imagination then think about giving UO a try! And if you do, post it in the comments so I can come give you a hand and some gold.

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