The Last Post Wins!!!!!

[Truthless of Shinovar he/him]

Twas the night before the last post,

And all through the thread,

not a sharder was stirring, 

not even a Nathranking.

 

Though the house bundles of knobweed did hang everywhere,

In the hope that St. Sanderson would come and remove all despair.

The sharders were nestled all snug in the thread

While visions of joyspren danced in their heads;

And mamma in her havah, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long highstorm's nap,

 

When out on the plains there was such a clatter

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter

Lashed to the window, flying like a flash

Soulcast the shutters, throw up the sash.

 

The moon on the mists of the fresh fog

Gave the entire landscape the appearance of eggnog.

When what to my wondering eyes did come from the mist that sheened

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny chasmfiends,

With a little old driver with books that weighed a ton,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Sanderson.

Edited December 16, 2019 by Ookla the Imperial

[The Atlazanian]

That is a great poem.

[FatherTiempo he/him]

More! I just know the eggnog.

I meant ending.

[Silva]

4 hours ago, ookla the unchanged said:

And then the royal magic truthtelling thing said: "אוקלה הבלתי משתנה הוא זה שניצח באשכול" 

And everyone said okay, he won.

.אתה משקר, זה אמר שאני אנצח.

*ניצחה בעברית כי היא יכולה*

[+Doomstick he/him]

But I win

[Lunar Blessing she/her]

Nope, me

[Truthless of Shinovar he/him]

Ok ok, I'll make the full version (spoiled for length):

Spoiler

Twas the night before the last post,

And all through the thread,

not a sharder was stirring, 

not even a Nathranking.

Though the house bundles of knobweed did hang everywhere,

In the hope that St. Sanderson would come and remove all despair.

The sharders were nestled all snug in the thread

While visions of joyspren danced in their heads;

And mamma in her havah, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long highstorm's nap,

When out on the plains there was such a clatter

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter

Lashed to the window, flying like a flash

Soulcast the shutters, throw up the sash.

The moon on the mists of the fresh fog

Gave the entire landscape the appearance of eggnog.

When what to my wondering eyes did come from the mist that sheened

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny chasmfiends,

With a little old driver with books that weighed a ton,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Sanderson.

More rapid than ryshadiums his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and RAFOed, and called them by name:

"Now, Chasmfiend! now, other Chasmfiend! now that one Chasmfiend and ChasmfiendneifmsahC!

On, Chasm! on, Fiend! on, the Second to Last of the Chasmfiends and Joe!

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

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

As pebbles that before the wild highstorm fly,

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

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of books, and St. Sanderson too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof a sound like a saw

The clawing and scraping of each little claw.

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

Down the chimney St. Sanderson 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 books he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler 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 glasses on his face looked slightly aglow;

The pen he used to write clutched in his hand,

And the Stormlight 4 rough draft looking so grand;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full 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 Last Post to all, and to all a good night!

"Oh and by the way, *wins*!"

 

Edited December 17, 2019 by Ookla the Imperial

[+Doomstick he/him]

Actually me

[Lunar Blessing she/her]

Hmmmm. ~Nope~

[+Doomstick he/him]

Everyone greet my first shardcast convert 

[Lunar Blessing she/her]

do I have too?

Hello! Where are they?

[+Doomstick he/him]

End of page 642

[Lunar Blessing she/her]

Hello @Ookla the Rithmatist!!

[AonEne he/him in an enby way]

Aha, convert! Hey there  

[Nathrangking he/him]

1 hour ago, Ookla the Imperial said:

Ok ok, I'll make the full version (spoiled for length):

  Hide contents

Twas the night before the last post,

And all through the thread,

not a sharder was stirring, 

not even a Nathranking.

Though the house bundles of knobweed did hang everywhere,

In the hope that St. Sanderson would come and remove all despair.

The sharders were nestled all snug in the thread

While visions of joyspren danced in their heads;

And mamma in her havah, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long highstorm's nap,

When out on the plains there was such a clatter

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter

Lashed to the window, flying like a flash

Soulcast the shutters, throw up the sash.

The moon on the mists of the fresh fog

Gave the entire landscape the appearance of eggnog.

When what to my wondering eyes did come from the mist that sheened

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny chasmfiends,

With a little old driver with books that weighed a ton,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Sanderson.

More rapid than ryshadiums his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and RAFOed, and called them by name:

"Now, Chasmfiend! now, other Chasmfiend! now that one Chasmfiend and ChasmfiendneifmsahC!

On, Chasm! on, Fiend! on, the Second to Last of the Chasmfiends and Joe!

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

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

As pebbles that before the wild highstorm fly,

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

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of books, and St. Sanderson too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof a sound like a saw

The clawing and scraping of each little claw.

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

Down the chimney St. Sanderson 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 books he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler 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 glasses on his face looked slightly aglow;

The pen he used to write clutched in his hand,

And the Stormlight 4 rough draft looking so grand;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full 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 Last Post to all, and to all a good night!

"Oh and by the way, *wins*!"

 

Someone should deliver a copy to Brandon himself!!

Ookla the winman

was a very winny Sharder

[The Awakened Salad they/them]

1 hour ago, Ookla the Imperial said:

Ok ok, I'll make the full version (spoiled for length):

  Hide contents

Twas the night before the last post,

And all through the thread,

not a sharder was stirring, 

not even a Nathranking.

Though the house bundles of knobweed did hang everywhere,

In the hope that St. Sanderson would come and remove all despair.

The sharders were nestled all snug in the thread

While visions of joyspren danced in their heads;

And mamma in her havah, and I in my cap,

Had just settled down for a long highstorm's nap,

When out on the plains there was such a clatter

I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter

Lashed to the window, flying like a flash

Soulcast the shutters, throw up the sash.

The moon on the mists of the fresh fog

Gave the entire landscape the appearance of eggnog.

When what to my wondering eyes did come from the mist that sheened

But a miniature sleigh and eight tiny chasmfiends,

With a little old driver with books that weighed a ton,

I knew in a moment he must be St. Sanderson.

More rapid than ryshadiums his coursers they came,

And he whistled, and RAFOed, and called them by name:

"Now, Chasmfiend! now, other Chasmfiend! now that one Chasmfiend and ChasmfiendneifmsahC!

On, Chasm! on, Fiend! on, the Second to Last of the Chasmfiends and Joe!

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

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

As pebbles that before the wild highstorm fly,

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

So up to the housetop the coursers they flew

With the sleigh full of books, and St. Sanderson too—

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof a sound like a saw

The clawing and scraping of each little claw.

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

Down the chimney St. Sanderson 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 books he had flung on his back,

And he looked like a pedler 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 glasses on his face looked slightly aglow;

The pen he used to write clutched in his hand,

And the Stormlight 4 rough draft looking so grand;

He had a broad face and a little round belly

That shook when he laughed, like a bowl full 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 Last Post to all, and to all a good night!

"Oh and by the way, *wins*!"

 

Now I'm tempted to photoshop Brandon into a Santa costume...

[Nathrangking he/him]

Ookla the winman

was a very winny Sharder

[AonEne he/him in an enby way]

3 hours ago, Ookla the Silent said:

Now I'm tempted to photoshop Brandon into a Santa costume...

Oh my gosh yes please PLEASE  

Edited December 17, 2019 by Ookla the Roleplayer

[FatherTiempo he/him]

Pleeeeeaaaaaaasssssse!!!!!

[Nathrangking he/him]

Ookla the winman

was a very winny Sharder

[Truthless of Shinovar he/him]

Yeah, it didn't come out quite how I wanted it to...

@Ookla the Silent, photoshop would probably work a lot better than the computer software photo editing would

Edited December 17, 2019 by Ookla the Imperial

[+Doomstick he/him]

Io saturnalia!

[The Atlazanian]

Io saturnalia! 

[AonEne he/him in an enby way]

2 hours ago, Ookla the Imperial said:

Yeah, it didn't come out quite how I wanted it to...

@Ookla the Silent, photoshop would probably work a lot better than the computer software photo editing would

IT'S BEAUTIFUL 

[CrazyManth3 he/him]

No that St. Sanderson looks pretty good. Actually the very definite change between the two photos is absolutely perfect.