Tweet
"Come children. Gather around the fire and hear the tales of our ancestors."
The old storyteller climbed up to his usual seat on top of a stone near the fire. His granite perch stood as tall as a man, and from it the children seated at the fire could see his face and hear his story, as could the rest of the tribe that had assembled behind them. The old man pulled his bear skin cloak close around him to keep out the chill night air and stared into the fire as his audience grew silent in anticipation of the tale to come.
"This land has always been a place of conflict, where the strong prey on the weak. Kingdoms rise and fall as sure as night follows day and as summer fails into winter. And through it all, the people of the Stone Wolf tribe have endured. And how is it that we have endured, where so many others have failed?"
No one answered the old mans question, as was tradition. He lifted his eyes from the fire and looked at the assembled crowd, slowly shifting his gaze from left to right until he had made eye-contact with each in turn. Looking back to the fire, he slowly nodded. "Then, let the tale be told."
"Many generations ago, the people of the Stone Wolf tribe were as other men, for they had not yet received the gift of stone. They fought endlessly to protect the tribe and to take what they needed. Garagos gave them the gift of rage and they used it to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. Few could withstand their wrath."
"In this time, there arose a great chieftain of the people. His name was Chaucta, which is 'Wolf' in the old tongue. He led the people to many victories. But Chaucta was also a great hunter, and often roamed far afield in search of meat for the people."
"So it was that one day as he hunted alone, Chaucta heard the sounds of conflict nearby. Feeling his blood stir and the rage building within, he ran towards the sounds, eager for the chance to kill in Garagos' name."
"When he arrived in the clearing where the battle raged, he saw a band of men from another tribe whose name has been lost to history. These had fallen upon a group of giants and blood was being spilt upon the ground. Chaucta charged into the fray, killing any he could reach, be they man or giant. The rage within him giving him strength, and speed, and stamina enough to slay with a single blow! Soon, Chaucta was the only one left standing. The rage subsided and the joy of victory brought a smile to his lips."
"It was then that he noticed one of the giants was not dead, but lay unconcious on the ground. It was a female and her great chest heaved with labored breath. Chaucta bound her with strong rope then woke her. She fought against the bonds, but they held fast and Chaucta brought her back to the village as a trophy, and as proof of his victory."
"There was a great celebration that night in honor of Chaucta's skill. The giantess sat silently as he recounted the battle and presented her to the tribe. It was after the tale that Chaucta claimed the giantess as his spearwife, to the awe of all."
"The giantess was the last of her people and had nowhere to go. And so she remained with Chaucta, though she resisted him when he would claim his right."
"Over many years, their tumultuous union grew into repect, then love. The giantess grew from a prize into a companion and equal. Chaucta learned the giant tongue. And the giantess, who's name was Illsena, learned his in return. And they had many children."
"These children we large and strong. They were the first of our tribe to have received the gift of stone from the blood of their mother. They in turn took mates of their own and passed on the gift, as did their children until the blood of Illsena was spread to every family. And so was the Stone Wolf tribe born of their union."
"The gift of rage and the gift of stone make the Stone Wolf tribe strong. With them, we take what we want and we answer to no one. You all have received these gifts, and with them you will continue the traditions of our people."
In a booming voice, the old man spoke in the tongue of giants. "BATTLE, STRENGTH, VICTORY!". The audience responded in kind, their words echoing throughout the night and all who heard them huddled in terror.
The old storyteller climbed up to his usual seat on top of a stone near the fire. His granite perch stood as tall as a man, and from it the children seated at the fire could see his face and hear his story, as could the rest of the tribe that had assembled behind them. The old man pulled his bear skin cloak close around him to keep out the chill night air and stared into the fire as his audience grew silent in anticipation of the tale to come.
"This land has always been a place of conflict, where the strong prey on the weak. Kingdoms rise and fall as sure as night follows day and as summer fails into winter. And through it all, the people of the Stone Wolf tribe have endured. And how is it that we have endured, where so many others have failed?"
No one answered the old mans question, as was tradition. He lifted his eyes from the fire and looked at the assembled crowd, slowly shifting his gaze from left to right until he had made eye-contact with each in turn. Looking back to the fire, he slowly nodded. "Then, let the tale be told."
"Many generations ago, the people of the Stone Wolf tribe were as other men, for they had not yet received the gift of stone. They fought endlessly to protect the tribe and to take what they needed. Garagos gave them the gift of rage and they used it to strike fear into the hearts of their enemies. Few could withstand their wrath."
"In this time, there arose a great chieftain of the people. His name was Chaucta, which is 'Wolf' in the old tongue. He led the people to many victories. But Chaucta was also a great hunter, and often roamed far afield in search of meat for the people."
"So it was that one day as he hunted alone, Chaucta heard the sounds of conflict nearby. Feeling his blood stir and the rage building within, he ran towards the sounds, eager for the chance to kill in Garagos' name."
"When he arrived in the clearing where the battle raged, he saw a band of men from another tribe whose name has been lost to history. These had fallen upon a group of giants and blood was being spilt upon the ground. Chaucta charged into the fray, killing any he could reach, be they man or giant. The rage within him giving him strength, and speed, and stamina enough to slay with a single blow! Soon, Chaucta was the only one left standing. The rage subsided and the joy of victory brought a smile to his lips."
"It was then that he noticed one of the giants was not dead, but lay unconcious on the ground. It was a female and her great chest heaved with labored breath. Chaucta bound her with strong rope then woke her. She fought against the bonds, but they held fast and Chaucta brought her back to the village as a trophy, and as proof of his victory."
"There was a great celebration that night in honor of Chaucta's skill. The giantess sat silently as he recounted the battle and presented her to the tribe. It was after the tale that Chaucta claimed the giantess as his spearwife, to the awe of all."
"The giantess was the last of her people and had nowhere to go. And so she remained with Chaucta, though she resisted him when he would claim his right."
"Over many years, their tumultuous union grew into repect, then love. The giantess grew from a prize into a companion and equal. Chaucta learned the giant tongue. And the giantess, who's name was Illsena, learned his in return. And they had many children."
"These children we large and strong. They were the first of our tribe to have received the gift of stone from the blood of their mother. They in turn took mates of their own and passed on the gift, as did their children until the blood of Illsena was spread to every family. And so was the Stone Wolf tribe born of their union."
"The gift of rage and the gift of stone make the Stone Wolf tribe strong. With them, we take what we want and we answer to no one. You all have received these gifts, and with them you will continue the traditions of our people."
In a booming voice, the old man spoke in the tongue of giants. "BATTLE, STRENGTH, VICTORY!". The audience responded in kind, their words echoing throughout the night and all who heard them huddled in terror.