Hello, I am back. I placed the responsibility of keeping the fire on the Bard. He kept everyone in Northwich awake with his carrying on it would seem.
I neglected to say I was leaving. I went to a nearby Heron village.
I spoke with an elder of the Heron tribe about a local legend. I am getting acquainted with the elders to reduce tensions between Northwich and the Heron.
The Heron elder had a story about creatures called Pequin.
They say that in another world a mighty hunter named Igdon became renowned for his skill in the hunt and his ability to cook delicious food. Igdon became great among the tribes and united them. He made the tribes prosperous and called for feasts he prepared himself. He led hunting parties into new hunting grounds full of game and herbs.
Igdon began demanding tribute from tribes far away to enrich his village. In his acquisition of power he came across a secret ingredient for his feasts, the Pequin.
Igdon went to the elders and presented the Pequin herb. Igdon said, ” songs will be sung of my prowess on the hunt and my feasts for generations! “
After presenting the Pequin to the elders, the elders warned him of the Pequin. “There is evil in this herb,” Said one elder. “Fire, burning and death, ” said another.
Igdon told the elders, “you have not attained my greatness in your youth. You envy my ability to gather warriors for the hunt and the feasts I assemble.
I will call a feast for all the tribes.”
Igdon led a hunt like no other hunt recorded in the songs of the elders. He directed the preparation of savory meats and soups.
Many songs and stories were told at the feast.
The Pequin did it’s work. Warriors and their women wondered in amazement at the feast and the rich spicy flavoring.
Igdon had many such feasts and hunts. Over time he had the vision of the thunderbird and became a warchief. Igdon became renowned in all of the tribes and their songs.
Igdon went to the elders that remained yet alive.
” the Pequin has been strong medicine for me. I am no longer Igdon,
I am Igdon Pequin, Warchief.”
Silence fell among the elders. They refrained from speaking. Igdon knew it was respectful to let the elders gather their thoughts.
“Igdon Pequin, Warchief” replied the eldest elder. ” Igdon, you have hunted and prepared many feasts. You have led warriors in many battles and they sing their own songs.
You have let the Pequin rule you, Igdon. You prepare Pequin, smoke Pequin, and eat Pequin. All of your songs in the lodges are of Pequin.
You are blinded by Peqiun. You have become Peqiun.”
“Not true!” Replied Igdon. ” I have come to speak of how you were wrong and you envy my medicine.”
The elders were again silent and Igdon Pequin went his way. As he walked, he saw a beautiful flower. He thought to himself, ” I will bring this to a lovely young lady”. The flower wilted in his hands. ” that is strange,” he muttered, casting the flower aside. Igdon walked to a pond. It was still and calm. He went to admire his reflection.
To his dismay, he had changed. When he looked in the pond, he saw a withered dark red body with fearsome eyes. He did not see Igdon. Quickly, he looked at himself. He examined his hands, arms, legs and body. All was as it should be. He looked again at his reflection and recoiled at what he saw.
Igdon Pequin left the pond and into a meadow. The sun shone brightly upon Igdon. Igdon wiped his brow. When he did so, his eyes burned. His eyes burned so badly that he yelled, “eye eye eye eye.”
Sobbing from the intense pain to his eyes, Igdon Pequin ran out of the meadow blinded and fell into a hole and into our world. Out of his body, Pequin grew. Not an herb, but the creature.
I listened attentively to the elder. He continued.
“They are like withered men blinded by their desire to burn with their hands like Igdon Pequin did to himself. There are Pequin in the forest, Brother.”