[Diamond18]

Introduction:

As I was walking down a dark and desolate street one night I came across a one armed man; this man had four scars running from his left cheekbone to his right collarbone, and it was a magnificent sight to see. He was dressed in tattered leather breeches and shirt made from a cheetah pelt. His hair was long and unkempt, and in his one hand (which had only four fingers) he clutched a bottle of Jack Daniels. He was, I soon saw, as drunk as a skunk in a runk. He hailed me as I passed by, telling me that if I would but gift him with money enough to buy himself supper (I rather suspected he really wanted to buy another bottle of hooch) he would tell me a tale the likes of which I had never heard.

I am, of course, always willing to interrupt my jaunts down dark, desolate streets to listen to tales told by drunken men in cheetah pelts, so I agreed. What follows is a tale so immense, so harrowing, so cheeky, and so far out, that it could only be about a Warg.

Disclaimer:

My source was completely sauced at the time of the telling, so what follows may challenge the common understanding of what it is to be a Warg, but I wash my hands completely and utterly of any controversial content.

Once again, and without further ado, I give you the borrowed tale of The Treasure Trove of Kum-bat-kûl


Long ago, in the depths of time, (somewhere not long after the Fourth age but long before this Seventh) in what we now know as the Darkest Darky-Dark Heart of Africa, there lived a race of Wargs akin, perhaps, to the Black Winged Wargs sighted by one High King Fingolfin of the BD. These Wargs, however, were not all black, but a whole variety of majestic colors (which yet included black). Pelts of gold, emerald, jade, royal purple, indigo, and blood red, were not uncommon. They had vast wings, and were known as the Amazing Many Colored Flying Wargs, or the Painted Winged Wargs, or Kum-bat-kûl's Flying Circus. Their Chieftan, the Great Immortal Warg Kum-bat-kûl, was an ancient, immense beast who had been born whilst the Elves still walked upon the land. His coat was of many colors, his eyes were shining lights, and his great whip of a tail measured 15 feet in length.

The Wargs of Kum-bat-kûl lived in gargantuan caverns known as the Kaleidoscope Caverns, so bright and colorful were their bejeweled walls. These caverns did not only sprawl beneath the earth, but rose inside of the tallest mountains, and many chambers opened upon the mountains faces, creating balconey halls at dizzying heights. The Wargs, however, being flying Wargs, cherished the heights rather than shunned them, and the Kaleidoscope Caverns were known far and wide.

Kum-bat-kûl so loved colors that he also hung great tapestries from the ceilings and draped priceless rugs dyed in every hue imaginable on the floors. The Wargs of Kum-bat-kûl were known far and wide for their gaudy, yet refined tastes, and dignitaries from other Wargs tribes (whose own renown has been cause for yet more tales too numerous to enumerate here) gifted the Painted Winged Wargs with jewels, paintings, silks, etc. of priceless worth and seriously garish coloring. Thus, the Caverns became the home of a mind-boggingly magnificent treasure trove.

These Wargs, like all Wargs, were fearsome beasts. Do not let their love of pretty things confuse or mislead you -- they could kick hiney with the best of Wargs, and indeed, some of the wilder Wargs of this race were fond of staining their teeth red with the blood of humans. One such faction were the followers of Larre, (also known as "He Who Was Wrong in the Head"). They would sneak out in the depth of moonless nights, when the other Wargs were sleeping, and they would fly over the plains and jungles in search of Mischief. Some of this Mischief was harmless enough, such as Lion Pong, but in their darker hours they were known to snatch babes from the huts of humans and take them flying high, high, high in the air (as some friendly Wargs of the Painted Clan often did to amuse their human friends) and then, without warning, drop these poor beings to their deaths on the ground below.

Larre and his sadistic followers were found out and punished by Kum-bat-kûl and his High Wargs, but still the stain of their perversion was remembered among the people. Yet another instance in a long, long, long, and I mean really long, line of unfortunate miscreants who have blemished the reputation of Wargs.

The glory days of the Wargs of Kum-bat-kûl has long since passed out of time and memory among many. But still, in the heart of Africa, are those who remember the old tales.

My strangely clad drunken friend was once a big game hunter in said Africa, and one day he met an old shaman who told him the tale of the Wargs. This man had been ignored by his people, labeled senile -- a raving madman. The hunter (who would only tell me to call him Hunter) alone listened in full to the shaman's tale. And once he had heard it, he took it in heart and mind to find the Treasure Trove of Kum-bat-kûl and take it for his own.

Long he sought it, experiencing many adventures too numerous to recount. He traveled the length and breadth of Africa searching ever and anon for riches and glory and Wargish history.

And then, one day, in the merry month of May, he came to it. An opening into the earth, like so many other openings he had seen before. Could this cave, he wondered, be the cave? It was. He found the Treasure Trove, and sought to take it from its hallowed grave out into the sunlight, and then sell it on Ebay.

This was his mistake. For the Wargs of Kum-bat-kûl, though long gone in memory, still lived. They were very few in number, but their fearsome leader still lead them, as it were. And Kum-bat-kûl, with the wisdom of a True Warg, could see into the heart of Man and when he peered curiously in the heart of the Hunter, he saw his dreams of personal glory and riches, and Ebay, and he disapproved. The Hunter, drunk on delusions of grandeur, didn't take "No" for an answer, and with his guns and knives and electronic chopsticks he challenged Kum-bat-kûl to a duel for the right to lead the Painted Wargs and do whatsoever he wanted to with the Treasure Trove.

Kum-bat-kûl accepted the challenge, and as you can guess, roundly beat the Hunter. All his gadgets and cunning could not stand against the mighty Paw and Claw and Tooth of the Great Immortal Warg. Yet, Kum-bat-kûl was also merciful, and did not take the life of the Hunter. Instead, he sent him back out into the world to spread his story of warning against greed, foolishness, delusions of grandeur, and the habit of wearing cheetah pelts.

End of story.