Entreat the Coming Storm

One day a happy little man named Quwam Mandou came upon a great and terrible Jorganstien. This big and scary beast is most formidable and quite evil. It terrorized the village Saradom, devoured countless sheep and cows of the surrounding farmlands and laid lo the thriving city of Garth.  Now Quwam was by no means a renowned hero.  He hadn’t slain the swampy-thing of the misty marshes, nor had he rescued Princess Dazia from the wretched witch Harlumheckler, neither had he even defeated a wizard or sorcerer or any type of mythical beast in mortal combat. Yet Quwam was determined to end the terrible Jorganstien. 

It was perhaps the warmest day mid December had yet seen in an hundred and ninety and five years, and so Quwam dressed lightly not even donning his warm scarf of his mother’s own sewing. But there he did take with him the hunting blade and bow of his forefathers, which he had long since been using for the purpose of hunting small furry animals in the forest yet catching none. Yet the Jorganstien drew near and the small farm on which he and his community lived was in great and terrible danger and Quwam set forth to deliver justice upon the beast.

Now the Jorganstien was a very formidable foe. Fangs of ivory hung from his wide mouth and gaping jaws. Claws sharper than a cutting blade were upon arms as burly as a great bear. His legs were thicker than a strong tree trunk and tail extended far beyond out his back, laced with spikes the entire length.  His under belly was scaly and rough, whilst the hide of his back grew dense and coarse as hard stone. Now as for its alligator like head and bulging bright blue slanted eyes, none could stand the sight and much live long for afterwards. Even the brave man of the watch, Clemsun did verily let down his sword and scurry away as he were a rat. 

And here we do find Quwam and Jorganstien face to face and man to man, with no recourse or any second to either take their place nor provide assistance.  And upon Hill Westgate outside the small commune of homes gathered together in this lush landscape did they stand as such with singular intent towards one and the other. First with the bow followed suit by the dagger did Quwam make his aggression know unto his enemy. But lo! The Jorganstien was swift and elusive and did flee from the strikes of his detractor and with his tail did he swipe at him again. Fearful, Quwam did dash yet could not escape the monster’s strike as the spiked tail lashed into his side inflicting grievous injury.

Thus we saw Jorganstien towering over Quwam with a death stare and Quwam shrinking away thusly. And as the beast raised its jagged claw above his head Quwam did spy an most opportune opening and did plunge his dagger quickly betwixt the monster’s ribs, penetrating it to the heart.  And Wo! The cry escaping from the mouth of the Jorganstien was shrill indeed as it were a banshee. And it fell crushing the ground beneath.

But where, where hath our hero gone?

Alas upon the earth does he lie, and in his blood he does die. But they shall remember him who fain slayest the Jorganstien upon dread hill than see his village devoured thereby. And in the second year after which the tempest raged onward through the land, the people did erect a monument in tribute to his everlasting sacrifice that they might have peace again. Carved of granite ore and engraved upon it was his name and there beneath it did commemorate him and credit him as: 

“Hero and Slayer of the ferocious Jorganstien, fey creature of darkness and dread.”

And when again the fell beast rises where now shall we look and see the mighty Quwam with bow and knife, standing forward upon the hill awaiting the approaching storm and defending hearth and home for life?

The End.