Twas the night before Frostfall and all through the hold
Not a creature was stirring, not even a troll.
The loot chests were stacked by the hearth with care,
In hopes that Dovahkiin would soon be there.
The children were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of sweet rolls danced in their heads.
And Lydia in leather, and I in my steel
Had just settled down to rest and to heal.
When out in the yard arose such a clatter
I sprang from my bed to destroy the mad twatter
Away to the door I flew like a dragon
Tore open the store and drew up my flagon
The moon on the woods gave a sinister sneer
As the wind gave a yell like frightened reindeer
When, what to my wondering eyes I did peer,
But a large wooden sleigh and eight frost trolls did appear.
With a grizzled war fighter, so nimble and pissed
I knew in a moment twas not a scene to be missed
More rapid than arrows his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name
“Now Thrasher! Now Smasher! Now Crusher, and Crasher!
On Hammer! On Boulder! On, on Connor and Kristen!
To the top of the hold! To the top of the wall!
Now smash away! Smash away! Smash away all!
As arrows leave from bows they did fly
When they meet with an opponent, so bounce and die
So up to the hold-top the trolls did smash
With a sleigh full of loot, and Dovahkiin’s stash
And then, in a crashing, I heard in my quarters
The digging and pawing of devious looters.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around
Down from his shoulder a hammer did bound
He was dressed in leather, and metal and all
And his armor was tarnished from blood and from fall
A bundle of loot he had stacked on his back
And he looked like a bandit filling his sack
His eyes how they flashed! His face flushed in anger
His cheeks scarred and battered, his nose broke and shattered
His droll little mouth was drawn up in mid yell
And the beard on his chin was splattered from enemies he did fell
The stump of a branch he held tight in his teeth
And the steam it encircled his head like a wreath
He had a mad face and a stacked chiseled belly
That shook with anger, as he shouted out loudly
He was strong and flushed, a right angry old Nord
And I screamed when I saw him, and cried as I fled
With a flick of his wrist and twist of his sword
Soon gave me to know a feeling of dread
He spoke not a word but, but went straight to work
And filled all his bags, then turned with a jerk
And laying his blade aside my nose
And giving a nod, my face he did dispose
Then he sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a shout
And away they did dash, whisked away in a flash
But I heard him shout just before I passed out
“FUS RO HO HO HO to all and to all a good a good-night”