Crits Kringle

I stalk the night where the cold winds bite. My fists are frost, my eyes alight.

Taverns quake 'cause my shadow draws near. No soul escapes when my sleigh appears.

Ice Pick Nick, The Red Tiding, Yule Brawler, Old Man Winterburn. The halls will shudder

at the lessons you'll learn. Through frozen halls my vengeance will mingle.

All shall fear Crits Kringle. Crits Kringle! The Hearthflames falter the night

grows deep. Silence breaks where the weary sleep. The sleigh bells ring where the brave

once bled, while Saint of Soot collects the dead Nicholas the Eternal, The Crimson Saint,

Hearth Father, Carol King. Your courage crumbles when the cold winds sting.