Why Knife Clan? (book)

Why Knife Clan?
A story related by Caraamon Makdasi

Several years ago, I had the pleasure of witnessing the following at Baerholt's Tavern. I was just finishing up my own dinner when a very plain-looking Gor'Tog entered and took a place at the bar. After a long look at the menu and an even longer sigh, he finally spoke up.

"In exchange for a good meal," he began, "I'd be willing to trade you all a masterfully woven tale. However, since I would be the one telling it, would anyone settle for a poorly told tale about an interesting subject? In fact, how about we make it a bet? If my story does not interest you, I shall be forced to sell off my meager possessions; if it does, you shall pay for my food and drink."

Having plenty of spare coin on me, I motioned for the bartender to place the Gor'Tog on my tab, just barely beating out some of my fellow patrons. After he finished a rather large dinner and an equally large mug of ale, he finally began his story.

"Have you never wondered about the Knife Clan? The two other Gor'Tog clans are named after dangerous beasts, so why a knife? How many Gor'Togs do you know that would use a knife as anything more than a tool when giant hammers and swords abound in the world?"

"Well, I'll tell you why. It begins in the times before the clans were established, in fact, in the times RIGHT before they were established, surprisingly enough. It begins with a young Gor'Tog man from a small fishing village whose father just died. Along with the father's hut and boat, the young Gor'Tog had also inherited a veritable wealth of silver coins which his father had spent years working for."

"Being a young man, his immediate response was to begin to think of what to spend it on. Now, this young man had always dreamed of adventure, of becoming a legend in the lands around his home, and now he had the means to begin this adventure. After several days of thinking, he finally had come up with an easy way to become a legend. Thousands of people were known for using swords, or hammers, or claymores, but there were no legends about those who used knives. At least not those that anyone really wanted to follow, since great tales of knives usually involved a lot of dark taverns and back alleys, and Everild knows the kind of clothes cleaning bills that type of person incurs."

"This young man, who renamed himself 'Kubil' in honor of his upcoming deeds, went out and spent his father's fortune on a set of thirty custom-made knives. It is at this point that we shall conveniently overlook the question of who in a fishing village could have made those knives and instead continue on in our story. Kubil had thirty knives of all types made, all suited for the massive hands of a Gor'Tog. These knives spread over his body, in arm sheaths and leg sheaths, belt and boot sheaths, completely converting his body into a walking arsenal."

"Then, with no more thought in his head, Kubil headed westward one morning to find something to kill with his knives and make a legend. As he walked over the vast plains, a wave of animals would flee from him, since with that many knives, he was about as quiet as your average avalanche. Thus, he found nothing at all to fight or hunt."

"The second day was much the same, though he reached and entered a large forest. The loud clattering of his walking drove away all the game. Desperate, Kubil marched farther into the forest until he ran into a rock wall, breached in one place by a large cave."

"Now, the great tale tellers would probably tell you that Kubil charged into the cave, intent on finding something to slay to gain him a legend. Closer to the truth was that Kubil simply was looking for somewhere to sleep that night. So when the bear's paw smashed him upside the head, ripping off his helm, it most likely removed what little sense he had."

"Now acting with nothing but reflexes, Kubil combined a climb and a jump to reach a high ledge just outside the cave and beyond the bear's reach. This, however, did not solve the problem of what to do with the bear, since it only became even more enraged as the loud, clattering headache-maker moved out of reach."

"Stuck on a ledge in the middle of the forest with no food or water and an angry bear stalking below, what was a poor Gor'Tog to do? Well, Kubil decided he wanted his legend, so with the strength that arises from bowl-clenching terror, he began to throw his knives at the bear."

"It took him all thirty knives before the bear finally collapsed and died, and if you ask me, it was probably more from boredom than anything the knives did. However, Kubil had defeated a mighty cave bear with naught but a set of knives and was destined for legend."

Now the Gor'Tog storyteller paused in his epic and, with a mischievous grin, laid out a contest.

"Since you all have been so kind with your attention, I do have something for you. I must go use a tree, but before I do, I have a challenge for you all. If any of you can guess what relationship Kubil has with the Knife Clan, when I return I shall present you with a great surprise."

"Oh, and to keep myself honest, I have written the answer on this piece of parchment." With that he laid a heavily folded page on the bar and stepped out the door. Immediately, the entire room began buzzing with guesses as to who Kubil was. It seemed obvious that he was the founder of Knife Clan, but to many it seemed too obvious.

The debate went on for some time before we realized the tale- spinner had not returned. As a group, we went out searching for him, fearing he had met a foul fate in the darkness. Despite the entire group searching, we found no trace of him, and we all retired to the bar.

As we had nothing better to do, we opened up the parchment to see who was right. I was one of the first to see the answer, and after I had read it I fell to the floor, weakened by my laughter. The parchment was written in large style, with a very simple message:

"Kubil has nothing to do with Knife Clan at all. But thanks for the meal."

I write it as I saw it years ago,

Caraamon Makdasi