What have we here?
A frightening beast, one born of fear.
A thing of legend, a tale of fright.
To scare naughty children to sleep at night.
With blackened fur, and glowing eyes,
From darkened maws, unearthly cries.
From out the darkness and the shadows,
Welcome all, the Eve of Hallows.
It’s again the time of year,
Neath a harvest moon, bright and clear.
Magi scamper about beyond the Keep’s walls
To gather their crops, before the night falls
Beyond the woods, across the moor,
Approach the beasts, straight out of lore.
Come scraggly goats, rabbits abounds,
Skeletal horses, and nightmarish hounds.
Pull close those that you hold dear.
Hide deep in the tower, while they are near.
With insatiable appetites, hunger unfound.
They may very well put us six feet in the ground.
Bounding, leaping across the plains,
Consuming all leftover meats and grains.
Feasting endlessly throughout the night,
Leaving naught a trace come morning’s light.
The embodiment of fear.
Speak not their name for they will hear.
They come today, are gone tomorrow,
Be relieved and forget all sorrow.
Just remember to leave crops out,
What a magi can do without.
They’ll come to eat and bring much fear,
Then retreat away, until next year.
Such is the way of the Mohrior.
A blackened beast that brings much fear,
Not simply a being from a legend or tale,
Not a believer? Best drink some more ale.
They’ll stalk, and creep and be a plight,
And gobble up naughty little magi in the night.
So tuck in your children, keep back the shadows,
And never forget the Eve of All Hallows.