Login to BatWeb
Forgot your password?
Library: Elephant hunt
Books
Author: saitoh
Date:Jan 26 2004
One day not far ago, a fellowship of few adventurers began to search for a
proper camping place for the night. And a beautiful night it was going to be -
the sun set as red as the meat they were about to cook and the gentle wind
whispered its promises of comfort and solidarity. The leader of the party, a
wise and respected monk brother Loviath, spotted a proper place in the
wilderness that gave shelter from the dangers that hid in the wild. Heavy
burdens were dropped, Eagle-eyes took the first watch atop an ancient, fallen
watchtower and the camp was set.
The spirits were high and the longing of the cozy beds at home or the smells
of taverns kitchen did not tempt these men of the woods. They had journeyed
far from their homelands, wandered in search of a quest that would provide
them respect and honor, not only to themselves, but for their families and
tribes. The entertainer of the croup played his melancholy tunes to the moon
and the gained valuables of the day were shared evenly amongst the brave men.
But behold - these were truly but boys at the threshold of manhood - full of
passion, filled with desire and romance towards the maidens of their village.
But the mind of the night was treacherous and brought somewhat undesired
company to the campsite. As the eye of the guardsman wandered from the blaze
of the campfire to the glow of the maidens smile the earth itself begun to
slightly shake. At first it went on as steady and distant as an earthquake
far, far away. But then, like an eruption of a volcano, a huge gray figure
stormed to the plains next to campsite. It was an elephant, a monstrous
mountain-sized slobbering peace of gray flesh and tusk they had ever seen and
way larger they ever had hoped to see.
There were a few seconds of total silence as everyone waited to see what would
happen next. And then the youngest of them all, Kengh the Bastard, raised his
sabres high over his head and uttered the battle cry that they would remember
to the end of their lives: "For the honor of Webosplash!" And then, they just
went for it.
Kengh's eyes gleamed with the gleam of a man who had seen the future and found
it covered with ivory jewels and great dowries. Later on the cry was described
as a voice of a disappointed vulture arriving too late at the dead donkey. For
the rest of them the future seemed more messy, especially the part where they
would counter the runaway elephant.
At first the elephant paid no attention to the spear throwing mob of morons
for it was blinded with pain. It had been wounded several times and it was
still filled with rage of previous battles - which it had clearly won. This
time the fury of the battle was too much for it: the quick-legged hunters were
too agile for it to stomp and too wise to be pierced by its tusk. After a
sweaty afternoon the beast was finally slain. Blood poured from its wounds and
its moans echoed over the hills and far away, and then it was over.
As the bloodlust of the men begun to evade the whole of the miracle became
clear: none was deadly injured and the mighty beast had been triumphed. The
joint efforts of the bard and the shaman eased the pain of others and a
soothing campfire was lit. When the second round of roasted elephant and the
third barrel of ale were on their way to our heroes' bellies, the tips of
their tongues became loosened and the encomiastic narration of the battle
events took place. Even those who had second thoughts before were now proud
about their deeds and much was exaggerated and bragged. And the bard made a
song from the battle and long was it played in their village after their
glorious return.
Even now, long after the fight the scarred men kept telling each other the
tale of renegade elephant and popular it was in the campfires all across the
kingdom, for rarely have so few accomplished so much by a single exhibition of
dauntless madness and the desire to get rich and laid.
Books