Twas the Night After 41

Twas the night after 41, when all through IF.
Not a dungeon to run, for even myself.

The AH was humming, things listed with care,
In hopes that gold piles would be mailed out from there.
My faction-mates were decked out, buffs all a popping,
And visions of professor plums, they hoped would be dropping.

My wife was in Blade's Edge, I wasn't ready to log,
So I'd just settled down, to take pics of Oak for my blog.
When over the General, there arose such a clatter,
I actually read the text, to see what was the matter.

Away to the window, my eyes flew like a flash,
Scrolled through the text, and my mind was aghast.
The red on the font of new written text,
Gave the luster of stress, of someone who was vexed.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a shout, a cry, saying The HORDE, they're here!

Through the tram tunnel they came, now 30, now 40,
I thought to myself, we're all dead, good Lordy!
There were priests there were locks, there were hunters and mages,
I knew this would be a battle for the ages.
The alliance they killed them, they lived and they dared,
But soon a cry rose, the hordes intentions were bared.

The King, someone said, protect him, form ranks!
All able bodied did, and everyone was a tank.
The bodies piled high and the horde skeletons stacked thick.
But they finally gave up, they'd failed in their trick.
The king was quite safe, the horde ran to the tram,
Someone else said, let's follow em man!

I ran to the tram tunnel, all the way to Stormwind,
Its a very long walk, don't do that my friend.
On the Stormwind tram side, horde I found waiting,
Their levels unknown, they were taunting and baiting.

One mage, with others, looked at me and sneered,
It was plain to see that his face was all smeared.
Undead he was and a sight to behold,
He was creaking and bony, making him look old.

The amazing gear that he wore and the tilt of his head,
Soon gave me to know I had much to dread.
So I threw down a consecrate and he looked at his folks,
As if to say, Can you believe this guy named Oak?

I tore into him, swinging and stacking up crits,
But he stood there and took it, I only scratched him a bit.
He laughed as a I swung "big two-hander" at him,
Two or three more hits and he stopped his small grin.

From off to the side, a lock spell came crashing,
And I fell to the mages feet, him laughing, me thrashing.
As I came back to rez, I knew I'd get more grief,
But I went through the tunnel and experienced relief.

I rezzed and I looked and the whole bunch was gone,
They'd cleared outta there, poof, they'd moved on.
The alliance were there, war torn and battered,
But we'd defended our cities and that's all that mattered.

And as the horde rode away, with their pvp levity,
I heard myself yell, See you at 70!