Silvertip Mountain Outside the night wind keens and wails

I'd like maybe someone who'd be interested in hearing a tale from good old Tagg here. ^^

That day, the salt had filled the mountain air. It was carried from the north by a strong wind. Clouds rolled overhead, threatening those below with showers.

The Taggerung carried an otter in his jaws. He had captured the slippery creature in an attempt to flee into the river. The slick fiend hadn’t a chance once Tagg had found its throat with his fang. In fact, the bard was quite pleased with his hunt.

Storing the otter where it could be accessed by any of the pack, the Taggerung peered upward and traced the ridges of the mountain. Kojall would have liked the place.

the land had shifted into autumn.
merrick returned from another fruitless search for his daughter in the territories. he found the taggerung smelling of a fresh-killed animal and overlooking their land. "keeper of tales. what do you think?" merrick inquired in regard to silvertip, seizing this opportunity for even some small taste of respite.
his own failure tasted like mercury.

Another wolf approached and spoke.

The Taggerung had not anticipated seeing Cluny again so soon. He had thought that the one-eyed devil would be working on his next dastardly scheme, though that was all imagination at play. Even still, the melancholy tinge of the cyclops’ words was interesting.

I think even Kojall would be pleased to claim such a mountain, the Taggerung answered with honesty. It was a fierce shape against a dismal shot of grey skies. But it does not matter what I think of the land you take as your own. What do you think, Cluny?

kojall. cluny. "where did you first hear the story of kojall?" merrick asked suddenly, insistently. it was almost a demand and yet it was not.
"we are high up and it is beautiful, but ursus is not whole. not with her gone." the angst bled through; he turned almost pleadingly to the taggerung. "tell me another tale. i fear i must have it."

Oh, all children are told of the first four when they are young. They instill morals that we would not otherwise learn at such an age, he answered easily. Kojall, Aellar, Enokhe, and Ipnos. They are the original wolves. From their blood and bone each of us is born.

It seemed a simple thing, that only four wolves could create the entirety that walked the earth. To the Taggerung, it was all he had known. The first four were an integral part of his youth, of his experience in learning through stories.

When Cluny requested another story, the Taggerung pondered.

Kojall was known as the mountain for his strength and fortitude in trying times. He was taller than any. Kojall carried ranges of mountains upon his back, placed there as he traveled.

The bard eyed the cyclops, prying with his gaze. Curious to unravel was beneath the wolf’s vicious exterior.

Let me tell you of the first mountain to be carried by Kojall.

cluny. taggerung. kojall. aellar. enokhe. ipnos. 
merrick felt he had enough pieces now to quickly and roguishly shift together, faster and faster, chessboard a mental framework. a man from a far-off land, who traveled and collected stories to add among the ones already gathered.
a man with no past, and no future beyond spun words.
"tell me," merrick urged, commanded, waited.
kojall seemed a strong and worthy god.

The Taggerung smiled swiftly.

The first four were not given their place in the world. Once, they were merely giants who prowled upon the earth as great hunters do.

The bard eyed his listener carefully. It was necessary to gauge the reactions, the attachment, even the most carefully hidden away feelings. The Taggerung needed to know that Cluny was engaged with his words.

Being giants of great power, they had gathered and agreed that their place in the world was worthy of godship. The Moon Owl listened to them and said that if they could prove their worth, prove their might, perhaps they could be gods, he explained carefully, providing what he believed to be the most necessary of details.

gods.
he remembered that which he had said to the man who had called his daughter a shaman.
"the moon owl says there is a way to become a deity."
the single eye flickered with a sudden and base lust.
"did they submit to this trial, these four?"
and would merrick have done the same? he waited.

There is, and they did, he answered with a small nod of his head. Mischief played in the silver glint of his gaze as the Taggerung looked upon his listener. Cluny was an engaged audience; he would have questions that would span throughout the story.

The Moon Owl is capable of giving such things, but just as she is capable of giving, he could sense the lust that bubbled beneath the cyclops’ surface, she too is able to take away.

Cluny did not know then that the wolves had ruined their chance to be gods.

It was Kojall that suggested they demonstrate their worth through strength. He wished to prove his worth, his might, in a way that only he could.

The Taggerung chuckled softly, a knowing laugh, one of a man who knew the end of the tale.

Kojall and his kin were not the only creatures vying for godship. The bears, the foxes, and even the elk yearned for the same. It was a bear who challenged Kojall – a bear who declared that no wolf could best their kind in strength. It was a bear named Carog who challenged Kojall.

such a glittering intellect in the taggerung. as he spun his tales, merrick wondered how many of them were true despite their fantastic nature.
the single eye began to gleam as the taggerung went on.
the moon owl decided many things. the bear carog challenged the wolf kojall.
merrick leant forward expectantly. "there are none who might win against a bear," he said, treated for a harrowed moment to the image of evien's poor, severed head.

Very good, yes.

The Taggerung nodded his head at Cluny’s response and offered a clever smile in return. The bard would not so foolishly tell a story of a bear who easily lost to a wolf, not to the Scourge. It would have been a wish for a swift death.

Not in fang or claw, no. Kojall was a man of strength but he was not quite a fool. He understood that Carog would have the advantage in a sheer battle of brawn and savagery.

Great Carog, he said to the bear, I do not wish for either of us to lose life or limb to this challenge. The bear eyed him with disbelief, for Carog was not afraid of the wolf. Kojall bowed his head just so that he might win momentary favor from the bear.

Carog, let us show an enduring strength in this war for godship.

How do you propose such a test, wolf? Carog demanded in the way of a bear. Kojall appeared thoughtful before he looked to a stone nearest him and smiled.

Whosoever can carry the greatest weight upon their back by the next full moon will be the victor and will prove their worthiness of godship, Kojall offered.

The Taggerung could not help but admire Kojall and the stories that had sprouted from his greatness. For all of Cluny’s talk of bears and snakes, the bard wondered if there was a chance that he carried the pride of Kojall within him.

Very well, Carog agreed, until the next full moon. If you should stumble or lose your load, you will forfeit the challenge.

Very well, said Kojall.

merrick wondered why the taggerung volunteered his stories so readily.
behind many things did he sense a trap. it was not so with these tellings. it felt as if the other man reached more deeply into a hidden hat of details, feeding merrick as he sat with slowly-filling belly and heart.
the bear chose fairly. unfairly for a wolf, but with as much integrity as a bear deserved. they ruled the world, after all; had they not whispered this to merrick? each place carved out by their paw, their claw, their jaw.
ursus existed as a monument to such power.
"carog had the greater strength. but wolves are cunning. it is through this deceit that we are less than bears."
merrick was inscrutable, thought he looked toward the taggerung to see how the sayer might react — and to hear the next part of this tale.

Perhaps, but these were times when such things were not so clearly defined. Wolf and bear could share in the same strength, as could the elk, the foxes, the badgers. It was an age of magic.

The Taggerung did not wish for Cluny’s mind to be so narrow. Over time, bears had grown into fierce creatures with razors at their fingertips and jaws as powerful as the force of a wave. Wolves too had changed since the age of the Kojall and his kin.

Kojall began with stones, demonstrating the broadness of his shoulders and the fullness of his chest. Carog met the stones with boulders of his own, calling upon his kin to stack massive rocks upon his back until it seemed unlikely he could carry many more.

Kojall met the bear with his own might, unafraid of such raw strength. He too gathered his kin and they stacked stone and tree upon his spine, towering to the very height that Carog had reached.

What now, wolf? We have gathered all that we can and even I can see that we carry much of the same weight. Carog did not seem pleased with the outcome of the task at that point, he had grown tired of the games of wolves.

Kojall suggested that they ask for the Moon Owl to help. That night, the bear and wolf called to the Moon Owl and she offered them the strength of gods until the night of the next full moon. They would show their intentions along with their might.

Carog and Kojall grew taller and stronger than any of their kin, any of the wolves or bears who had lived before. Over a month, they gathered items along their backs until the two beasts stood taller than the mountains. Wilderness played between their shoulders, along their spines. Like moving worlds, Carog carried forests and plateaus upon his spine. Kojall’s back held the same.

The night of the full moon was near and there was still no clear winner.

bear and wolf, stacking stone and tree upon them. merrick thought how that must seem! the picture of it thrilled the bearwitch. 
they grew, this pair, until it seemed that they became even the land and rocks and forests of their world. 
but there was no winner.
"the moon owl must have already chosen," he muttered to himself, though pitching it for the taggerung to hear. and now merrick waited, fully enraptured.

You’re quite right, actually. It was once believed that the Moon Owl had never shown distaste for a living beast of the land until Kojall and his kin came along. You will be surprised to know that the Moon Owl favored Carog in this display of might and magic, the bard assured Cluny with a small nod.

The Moon Owl met the wolf and bear on the day of decisions. She watched them with their massive shapes and stated that she could not see a clear winner. Without a victor, neither would be granted the power and prestige they desired. To those who felt pride, such a claim was heinous and deceitful. The Taggerung was not certain how he would have responded to the words of the Moon Owl. Surely if he had gathered rock and tree to carry upon his back for a month, he would have felt the sting of regret at being told that there was no victor.

Kojall did not accept her word. He was furious with the decision and claimed that he would not walk away from that place until a true victor had been decided. Carog seemed to agree but did not have a way to prove such things, so the bear stood by and watched as the wolf approached the mountain boldly.

Kojall did not hesitate. He gripped the stone of the mountain between his fangs and pulled. The muscles in his throat and chest burst with the effort, but he was able to rip the mountain from the ground and lift it into the air. Carog watched with anger as Kojall placed the mountain upon his back and turned smugly to face the Moon Owl and the bear.

What say you now? He demanded of the two. Carog was furious, he looked to the Moon Owl with rage and claimed that such an action could not be considered, that their trial had ended. The Moon Owl bowed her head and said that the wolf had claimed victory in his final display. Kojall had earned his place among the animals of power.

Taggerung eyed Cluny warily, wondering how the Scourge might find the outcome of the story.

The Moon Owl stripped the land from Carog’s back and returned him to the size of his kin. Carog cursed the wolf and vowed that he would have his revenge, in time. The Moon Owl was still displeased with Kojall. The final wish of the goddess was that Kojall should carry the mountain upon his back until his dying day. He did just that.

the story took an infuriating turn. merrick was angry by the end, albeit in his usual silent way. save for the single eye, which leapt with rage and fantasy.
"it was not a fitting end for such a long trial," merrick declared.
the shining pupil expanded until merrick felt the atmosphere around he and the taggerung shrink into a bold and thrumming nothingness.
"it is a shame that carog and kojall did not simply kill the moon owl. then they might both have lived as gods."
he laughed.

Cluny’s response did not surprise the storyteller. In fact, he was rather pleased to have found such a genuine response from the one-eyed devil. Even rage was an inspired emotion, no matter how well the fowl wolf contained it.

The Taggerung chuckled along with Cluny, throwing his head back in good humor.

Many have tried to kill the Moon Owl before, but all have failed. She is the most powerful, the most magical, in all of existence. The information might have been lost on his audience member. It was no bother to share it, regardless. Tagg had heard the same sentiments shared by other warriors, fierce wolves who were aghast that an owl would make such decisions.

Carog did get his revenge, only much later.

The Taggerung offered Cluny a quick smile.

Another story for another day.

o, taggerung.
merrick was suddenly and fiercely captivated.
"another story for another day," he parroted in his roughened tones. it implied that the taggerung might remain in the times to come.
"hunt with me?" merrick invited. "not ghosts this time."
a feral snarling grin. "unless you wanted."

The bard smiled to Cluny. He nodded his head in agreement. There would be time for other tales, the Taggerung was not intent on leaving Ursus.

Yes, let’s hunt – for spirits or prey, I am with you.

The Taggerung threw his head back and laughed heartily. He did not know how the man had done it, but Cluny the Scourge had won the bard over. Really, what harm could it do?

Off into the unknown in search of treasure, Taggerung followed the one-eyed devil.