"Of the DRAGON and the Tribe of GAD (excerpt)" - January 14, 2016

IN THE LAND OF VORHESSE, there lived a number of peoples and nations of various stature, each bent on conquering a vast and fertile region which lay before them. Reubah, Paschetti [PASH-tee], Lucera - each of these peoples strove one against the other, and yet there was an additional tribe of men who, while small in size and strength, carried a far greater ambition for their collective station. These men were of Gad - a monotheist society from the north-western marches of Ecrea. They had been in the land forty years prior and had since been content to gradually overtake the land themselves. But at the rumor of coming war, some of the men grew concerned that their small numbers would be no match for the advancing nations. In their distress at losing such a great land, a sect from the tribe of Gad decided to divine a solution from the foreign gods of Vorhesse. "There is no time to consult our own god from the father-country. Who could speed their way there and return in time with the answer?" Thus they consulted the gods who inhabited the grounds on which they lived, and instead of beseeching these powers by use of their tried and true Olea fruit (not yet ripe from the year's harvest), they hastily crushed a selection of native flowers called Woodbind. Scattering them abroad in a vast field, they hoped that an answer might be discerned in lay of the leaves.

No sign was to be received in the day, but as storms began to brew that evening, a stray bolt of lightning smote the earth and lit the oil-rich Woodbind ablaze. Along with it, a third of Gad's crops (as well as several strong men of Gad) were consumed in a great inferno. The situation seemed hopeless for the people. But suddenly, as if the residual sacrifice was indeed satisfactory, the fire collapsed in upon itself into a plume of smoke and ash. Navigating the wreck of the plains, the men of Gad spied a solitary egg within the ruin - charred black, twenty feet in height (the object sat slightly askew). Some time later, just as the people were beginning to ignore this sign and devise a new plan, the egg hatched, & from within emerged a great dragon.

Now the dragon had no name to give but was never without demand. When the priests approached the beast, seeking council concerning their adversaries, the dragon would shrug at the concept and instead scream for crops and game. Provisions were emptied before his feet & he gorged himself continually until the supply was depleted. Again he would scream for sustenance. This went on for days until finally Irufuei, the grand elder of Gad attempted to reason with the beast. "We are now close to destitution. We cannot afford to give any more of our livestock or harvests & still our enemies draw ever closer. They will be upon us soon if we do not act. Please guide us, great spirit!" The dragon only screamed the louder & stomping his feet, he stretched forth his neck in an effort to consume Irufuei himself! The grand elder was shoved to safety at the last second & from that point on, the people of Gad greatly feared the monster and his voracious nature.

The majority of the Gadites proposed this to be the end of their pleadings with the dragon. "Let's cut our losses and move on. This spirit's only looking out for himself. He doesn't care for our well being!" But the same sect of men who summoned the beast were reluctant to be rid of him after such grave sacrifice. "Surely there is something left for us to offer him. Let's not give up now that we're so close to an answer." But their counterparts were not at all complicit. They washed their hands clean of the idea & were arranging to leave their current camp by dawn of the following morning.

The rebellious sect however, had other plans. In the night they took all the maimed and disfigured (men, women and children) from among the camp and offered them to the black beast as sacrifices. The beast was pleased and finally he began to tell of the enemy's secrets from that veiled darkness. About him sat the rebels - six men, enraptured in the dragon's newly revealed wisdom. And chief among them was the man, Reheul who led in the encouragement of the slaughter.

By morning a horrid stench filled the air and elders discerned at once that tribal blood had been spilled. They questioned the men seated about the dragon (such a terrible sight to behold - as none of the men hid the signs of their treachery - be it blood, flesh or bone). But the men refused to speak. Instead, the beast rose from its nest and addressed the tribe personally.

"Men of Gad. Like a troop, you have entered my lands, subdued my treasures and spurned my appearing. The time has now come for conquest. Take up your arms and follow me into battle... These six will serve as your generals. If you move swiftly, you shall have your coveted prize."

But the Gadites were beside themselves in fear and incredulity. They wanted to run, but their feet held them like so many iron anchors. The bravest among them could barely squeak out a response on their behalf.

"We should not have slain our brothers... We cannot shame ourselves further... Neither can we join ourselves with you, dragon."

At this, the dragon laughed cruelly and sat down once more. He responded. "Do as you will. It's a shame that so great a sacrifice should go wasted. But you are yet too weak as a people to wield my power. Instead, I shall offer my judgement. I will rest here a while longer and when I awaken I will consume the lot of you. Only, if you wish to be spared, you will seat yourselves amongst the generals & follow my commands. All others I will bear down upon and consume. " And with that, the dragon slept, leaving the tribe paralyzed in their final quandary.

The following hours were filled with dark apprehensions, as the men of Gad began to weigh in their hearts what was truly important to them. Some men abandoned everything - their families and riches, taking flight within the hour. Others moved off at a slower pace. Carrying their young and personal effects along, each of these looked back in dread, cursing their lives with every step. The last of the remnant - and most affected, wept bitterly at the foot of the dragon, knowing in their hearts that they were the most pitiful of their brothers. For they were unfaithful to their tribe and also lacked the courage to defy the beast. They continued to wait, until at last their shame ended with the dragon's stirrings.

Yet nay, upon reviving, the fell beast's appetite betrayed them and the quavering, easily caught in his grasp were the first to know no more.