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:	post by demondave at 2010-04-10 19:00:38

" In the valley of Diormen, the harsh wind blew, the volcanic ash of Mount Ararat swept across the world. The smell of fire and brimstone stung the nostrils of men. Alone, a glorious example of a man stood in defiance of nature. His broad shoulders and powerful legs were a magnificent frame for the well constructed portrait of his manhood. He stood with fierce determination, deep in thought.

I am Kronar, son of man.

Kronar's expression was sullen, his long, dark, hair whipping about his face. A dim fire illuminated the the entrance to a rugged hut, made from the skins of slain Tigers.

For a hundred generations, my fathers have kept the bloodline pure. Free from a woman's taint. Today, my son is born.

---

Nine months ago...

The two men glared at one another from atop mighty plateaus of rock, jutting from blazing hot flows of molten magma. Erik of Freehold, the leader of a great, seafaring, society, stood upon his craggy pillar. His copper horned helm dulled by the soot of Mount Ararat, his shirt since burned away by the flames of the volcano. Erik's well muscled chest was glistening with sweat, his red hair soaked and frazzled by the elements. Across from him stood the graceful, yet powerful, form of Kronar, son of man. His heavily scarred body belied a great experience in battle and conflict. Truly, Erik's opponent was well trialed, possibly the only man capable of defeating him.

'You have no honor, like a woman!' Shouted Erik, his grainy voice easily overpowering the exploding vents of lava.

Kronar simply stood, stoic as he was. He tore off the ragged piece of cloth that served to conceal the massive girth of his manhood. Erik was shocked and amazed by this act, his jaw went slack as his eyes bulged out of his head.

'Now show me your honor! My honor demands it!' Boomed the mighty voice of Kronar, his wealth now fully engorged. Erik of Freehold removed his leather subligar, displaying the strength he possessed at full mast.

'No...' Said Kronar, gritting his shining, white teeth.

'Show me your other honor.' Kronar demanded with a measure of tenderness he had never yet afforded an opponent. Erik had come to respect his opponent greatly during this display of manly bravado, a respect that he obliged with obedience. Erik turned his rearward approach to Kronar and displayed his circle of pride to the Son of Man. In a flash, so it seemed, the proud warriors were in the throws of passion and ecstasy. It was unheard of for Erik to stand like a dog, to brace himself on all fours like a woman. Though, as soon as their honors collided, all sense of conflict disintegrated with each of Kronar's thrusting love punches. The men were engaged in battle, though one that benefited one as much as the other. It was not long, some three hours, before Kronar released his essence.

'BLOOD AND THUNDER!' Screamed Kronar.

'VICTORY AT SEA!' Replied Erik.

With this ceremony completed, they now became husband and husband. The greatest union of warriors in the existence of history.

---

'What sorcery is this?!' Came a cry from within the hut. Erik had just released Kronar's son from his circle of pride. Arnumar, the midwife of Erik, Kronar's friend, was terrified by what he now clutched in his hands. Arnumar rushed to the entrance of the birthing place.

'Kronar! Your son, he's a woman!' Blurted Arnumar in shock.

Kronar's expression turned to that of rage. His eyes widened and his pupils dilated, he made a demand of Arnumar.

'Affix the bow of shame. Cast her into the wolf pit.' Belched Kronar in disappointment.

In a matter of minutes, Kronar was standing ominously over the pit of wolves, casting his doomed child in with disregard to her safety. Kronar walked away, intent to try again with his husband, refining their lines to create the more perfect man. A great commotion came from the pit, the screams of injured and dying wolves caught the attention of the Son of Man. He stopped in his tracks and set his gaze over his shoulder.

There was now silence in the pit of wolves, no... Not silence, the furious breathing of a victorious warrior resounded through out the valley of Diormen. Kronar returned to the lip of the pit, his infant child looking back up to him with gritted teeth and the bow of shame upon her head. The wolves were dead, dismembered, beaten to death with their own limbs and choked by their own guts. With tears in his eyes, the Son of Man let out a great cry of revelation...

'She truly is my son...'

OOC:

This is the legitimate story of the birth of the first Aumanii. If you don't like it, feel free to report it."

http://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?ns=1&f=5&t=25638#p992692

again,

what the fuck?

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