Zha'kral Hunger of the Deep

And that is why we never go too far south. That the barbarians even have this story is warning enough, but that they celebrate it is all the reason you need to stay away!

— - Commander Harkin

What follows is a transcript of story heard round the hearth fire in Gorehorn Camp as written by Jedyck Kar, scholar and told by Kelzhar the Skald.

The Origins of Zha'kral

Once, the Tribelands were as soft as the forests of fay castoffs to the north, but the minotaurs of The Bloodmarsh refused to become weak and complacent as the Elves had allowed themselves to do. To show our strength, we braved the sea to hunt the leviathans of The Tempest Tides, and none was more sought after than the great Zha'kral! Larger than a sea dragon and twice as fierce, it was said that he could devour even the largest minotaur in a single bite and that his breath could freeze the whole ocean. Many of our ancestors hunted the Hunger of the Deep across the waves, but none could bring the beast down. Our ancestors might have had our bravery, but our people are not bred for the water.

Hraegar the Firstborn

That is, until the coming of Hraegar the Firstborn, Worm Father. The great warrior vowed to dominate Zha'kral or die trying, and true to his word, he did both! He took his sloop into the deep waters of the Tides, and he waited. By the time Zha'kral finally showed up, Hraegar had been out of fresh water for three days. The fight was glorious!

The Battle of the Tides

All hunters are prone to hyperbole, and it appears the minotaurs love it more than most. Still, surrounded by zealous tribesmen and with a belly full of Ichor Wine (which tastes better than it sounds), I was apt to nod along.

— -Jedyck Kar

When the beast came, it circled Hraegar for two days, taking the hunter's measure, for it knew that this paragon of might and dominance would be its downfall. Like a true warrior, the beast came anyway, lest it be known forever after as a coward. On the third day at dawn, it struck. The splintering of the sloop sounded as a crash of thunder in the plains, and the ship sank like the pile of flotsam that it was, but Hraegar was unmoved. He sprang atop the great beast and plunged his harpoon into its undulating back!

Oh how the creature howled! It tried to shake the stalwart warrior with all of its might, even diving deep into the abyss to drown the hero, but Hraegar took a mighty breath and plunged right down with the leviathan! Using his harpoon, he steered it continually back to the surface where, try as it might, it could not dislodge him. The fight raged this way, a stalemate, for four days.

On the fifth day, the cunning creature finally shattered Hraegar's weapon, smashing itself against the rocks that jut up near the coast, for the pair had strayed into shallower waters as they struggled, locked in fierce battle. The great warrior was nearly undone. Without a harpoon or a hold, he seemed doomed to be dashed upon those same rocks. What the beast did not realize, and what you young calflings must always remember, is that a minotaur is never without a weapon!

Hraegar sprinted to the beast's head. He slid down its sloping visage and gored his great horn into the creature's boundless black eye. Zha'kral screamed in its agony, and it lashed at the hunter with its tentacles only to have them beaten back or chewed off by the operant warrior. Now the beast weakened, and before long, it keened out its death throes and began to sink beneath the waves.

The Return, and the Birth of the Worm

This is where the story becomes downright weird. As a scholar, I can't in good conscience believe this part, but I have seen the evidence with my own eyes. I've watched it consume unwary hunters.

— - Jedyck Kar

It was in that moment that Hraegar, clever and brave, should have drowned, but the great warrior had another fate in mind. Working quickly with his bare hands and raw strength, he tore the massive bone plate from the dying creature's head and sank down upon it in the roiling waters. With this makeshift raft beneath him, the hunter turned his attention to the carcass. He dragged the beast the short way back to the coast and collapsed upon the beach.

When he awoke, replenished, Hraegar built a log sled from the white alder trees that dot our lands. He dragged the carcass of Zha'kral back to his village where his tribe waited to celebrate his unmatched prowess.

But the minotaurs of Hraegar's time were not brave enough to partake of Zha'kral's flesh. They believed that the creature was a harbinger of the ancestor gods and that to eat of it would anger them. Snorting in disdain, the great warrior made another oath: he would consume the creature in its entirety to show his tribe that they need not fear the gods. Minotaurs, he argued, were at least the equal of the gods who had not been seen in centuries.

Hraegar set about his task with the same steadfastness with which he had slain the beast. He ate and ate, the meat succulent and sustaining. With each bite he took, the warrior grew larger. He paced himself, but he never stopped. For three days, the insatiable hunter continued his task. Slowly, the body of Zha'kral the Hunger of the Deep disappeared, flesh, muscle and sinew devoured by the hero. He continued to grow with every bite, becoming truly colossal, until finally the task was done.

As he consumed the last bite, Hraegar's very body began to shift and squirm. Zha'kral, it seemed, had been a favorite of the gods after all. As he stumbled backward from the site of his latest feet, the hero's body burst open, and a plague of small purple worms spattered the ground. Before the other hunters could reach Hraegor's side, the worms had devoured all that was left of him and burrowed away into the ground.

We Give Thanks

This is why, to this day, the Gorehorn Tribe celebrates the life and feats of Hraelgar the Wormfather! Those beasts have grown to massive proportions since the time of the Firstborn. They hunt all of the tribes of The Bloodmarsh and force us to test our strength as Hraelgar taught us. They are also delicious spitted and roasted over an open fire! So raise your tankards high, for while, tomorrow, we will bid farewell to those who fell in the hunt, tonight, we celebrate the worm!