Twas the Night before Snowdown
'Twas the night before Snowdown, when all through the home, Not a creature was stirring, not even a poro. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care In hopes that Saint Zilean soon would be there.
The champions were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar plums danced in their heads. And mama in her Cloak and I in my Deathcap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.
When out on the roof there arose such a clatter, I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter. Away to my window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutter, and threw up the sash.
A Farsight Orb on the new-fallen snow gave the lustre of midday to objects below, when, what to my wondering eyes should look on in awe, but a miniature sleigh and eight tiny Reindeer Kog'Maw.
With a miniature driver so lively and zippy, I knew in a moment it must be Saint Zilean. More rapid then Valor his coursers they came, And he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
"Now Dasher! Now Dancer! Now, Prancer and Vixen! On, Comet! On, Cupid! On, Donner and Blitzen! To the top of the porch! To the top of the wall! Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!"
As dry leaves before the Howling Gale fly, When the met with an obstacle, mount to the sky So up to the housetops the coursers they flew, With a sleigh full of items, and Saint Zilean too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof the prancing and pawing of each little hoof. As I drew in my head and was turning around, down the chimney St. Zilean came with a bound.
He was dressed all in red, from his head to his foot, and his clock was all tarnished with ashes and soot. A bundle of toys he had flung on his back, and he looked like the shope merchant just opening his pack.
His eyes--how they glowed! 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 beard on his chin was as white as the snow. The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth, and the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath. 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 champ, 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 Snowdown to all, and to all a good night!"
But really. Merry Christmas and Snowdown to all my fellow summoners and to the amazing people working at Riot. Have a great holiday season :)