Power in Stories

“There's power in stories, though. That's all history is: the best tales. The ones that last. Might as well be mine.” – Varric Tethras

Chann Wisemoon, the Hunter Who Lies, and the Origin of the Plagued Kodo

Caren Bloodwolf stands before a mixed crowd of Horde races, smiling before she bows to them and begins to speak.

The last time we met I told a tale of an old hunter Chann from my birth tribe, of his youth and his fantastical encounter with the Great Fish. I have another tale of his to tell you this time.

Caren Bloodwolf looks around.

For those who were here last time, you may recall I mentioned that he encountered the Great Fish while hunting the Plagued Kodo.

This is the tale he told we young ones of how the Plagued Kodo came to haunt the Barrens and eventually spreading its sickness to the land.

Caren Bloodwolf  takes a breath then begins.

In the south, Chann told us, there was an old tribe, bound together by time and blood and bonds stronger than kodo hide. The Blackhorn was their name.

They were strong but kind and one night they took in a bloodied stranger from further south. He spoke only of fire and death in a hushed voice and begged for rest.

The elders of the Blackhorn suspected his tribe had been travelling and was attacked. So they gave him shelter…and their act of kindness led to their doom.

Caren Bloodwolf  bows her head mournfully.

When the morning dawned, the Blackhorn was gone. The stranger had attacked them in the night, betraying their kindness.

He had tainted their grounds with noble blood and no one dared touch Blackhorn land for fear of rousing their angry spirits that might remain. For such a strong tribe would be fierce even in death.

Mu’sha was greatly angered by what had occurred under her light, for she was full and heavy in the sky that night. And the stranger fled before her rage.

Caren Bloodwolf  gestures towards the sky, moving her hands in a circle.

The stranger ran for many cycles, traveling only in An’she’s light and hiding when Mu’sha rose in the night. For the Earth Mother’s right eye had not seen the deed done under the light of the left and so did not know to stop him.

And then…one night…Mu’sha hid her face, cloaking the land in darkness, to try and draw him out. The stranger looked out and thought “She has forgotten.”

Caren Bloodwolf smiles grimly at the crowd.

As Chann told us small ones once, Mu’sha does not forget.

When the stranger was out of his hiding place and could not return to it in time, Mu’sha revealed herself. She shined as furiously as An’she himself, radiant and cold, and the stranger fell before her, begging for his life.

Yet she knew that he did not do this from regret but out of fear for his own life.

The Earth Mother did not wish to punish one of her own but he had done a foul deed. While Mu’sha may shine brightly in the night to light our way, she also dwells within shadow. From there she drew his fate.

The stranger was punished with a curse, bound within the body of a kodo so that he might wander the Barrens without fear of being slain. He would be haunted by the voices of those he had killed, constantly reminded of what he had done to him.

And so he was also bound to haunt the lands of the Blackhorn, doomed to wander there until he truly came to regret his actions. Only then could he pass from this world.

Caren Bloodwolf nods to herself.

That is the tale of how what became the Plagued Kodo came to be. Of course it was told to us by the Hunter Who Lies…so it was likely never true.

Caren Bloodwolf smiles mysteriously.

But one never knows.

Caren Bloodwolf bows once again to the crowd and walks back to her seat.

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