The old Tenzaznese story-teller threw a handful of black powder on the fire. flames roared up, illuminating his smirking face. He began his tale.

"The natives of the Pahuric Great Plains were men of the land, in tune with the world about them. They lived off the generosity of both flora, and fauna. They took no more than they needed, and used all they took. These natives hunted the bison for their life and livelihood. They loved and respected the majestic animal, and kept it dear to their hearts. They wasted nothing, using every part of the bison to live.

The Old Man didn''t mind. He loved them as much as they loved his children. He respected them, and commanded that the females of his herd protect their lost children and their injured hunters.

What he did mind, however, was when the Spiders came, driving herds off of cliffs to slaughter them, and murdering the plainsmen who lived so closely with them. try as they might, they could not beat back the Spider's terror. And so the Old Man did the only thing left for him to do: He offered himself, just as his herd always did to the plainsmen. He cried out to whatever gods would listen: Fauna, Hope, Life, it mattered not. To the heavens he cried, "Take my blood, and my innards, use it to make sausage. Take my skin, wear it with pride. Take my tongue, and season your pot. Take my fat, and fuel your fires. Boil my hooves for glue. Decorate your camp with my bones. Bind your weapons with my sinews, make a crown of my horns and a necklace of my teeth. Roast my flesh and celebrate with a feast, and dry the leftovers by a fire to slake your hunger as you travel. Do these things to me, as was meant to be, but do not let me and my herd be wasted."

Fauna did not answer him. Hope did not well within him. Life did not heal his wounded heart.

But!

He was answered! From the sky descended a pair of wings. Alighting on him, they took him to a stone bungalow on a rocky plain. There, he met with the Mother of Equality. His tale moved her to tears, and so she granted him safe haven in the Scablands, and sent her servants to rescue what they could of his great herd, and the Plainsmen who loved them so."

the old story teller bowed his head. "Here endeth the tale."