MEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

There's a reason Dwarves laugh when humans fuss about getting a Turkey for christmas. Things work differently for Dwarves, see their family lines are so well traced and recorded christmas meals often encompass several hundred plump beardlings! Plump beardlings who have been known to get very (very!) grumpy should they get even the slightest inclination of hunger. In the first christmas feast (or Blood-feast to the Dwarves because you're dining with people who share blood with you, not because you're dining on blood) Heir to the throne Kirrax of the Christmas Spirit said to his father "With so many guests, we're going to have to go hunt ourselves a Wyvern to feed them!"

His father, who is still hailed across all of Dwarfdom as the very father of christmas, took this quite literally and arranged a mass hunt in November. After a month of tracking, the family feared that christmas would be ruined, as they had not found their prize. Miserable, they headed back through the mountain snows white of beard and red of face; partially from anger and partially because of early eggnog drinking to cope with the depression of dishonour.

When they arrived back, just a few days before the big event, they were surprised to find a Wyvern, sitting just outside their home! With a triumphant roar the Dwarves charged, bolts were knocked and aimed from crossbows but before they could be released the Wyvern let forth a mighty cry that stopped all of them in their tracks. "Merry christmas, honourable friends!" it lifted it's wings and revealed hundreds of wrapped presents no doubt been hidden for centuries in it's hoard, now presented as gifts to one and all. The Wyvern, Nveryioth, was invited as a guest of honour to the household.

As the hundreds of Dwarven fellows were greeted in, and presents were stockpiled underneath the wooden statue of the ancestor (in place of a tree) they were amazed to see a Wyvern, lying across the table with an apple in it's mouth! "How did you cook one of those?" one Dwarf cried (for when presenting food back in those days it was typical to make it look as if it were still alive, and ready to spring back to life). The Wyvern replied to the curious Dwarf "They didn't! Aha!" and snapped up the apple in it's mouth before letting out a gout of red and green flame "Merry christmas!"

The Wyvern spent the entire night telling ancient stories, and about how lonely it can be to live forever and to not get visited by friends anymore, only thieving adventurers and mean hunters. The present Dwarfs took heart, and invited him to share in celebrations every year with them, though to not bring too many friends (Nveryioth by this stage had already drunk three years supply of prized Dwarven Ale). Which is why it is now tradition in Dwarfdom to find a Wyvern and invite it back to your hold for company.

So Humans have Turkey, but Dwarves can only smile knowing how much more hassle and rewarding it is that they have Dragons for christmas dinner (or Blood-feast)