KTF/Of Myth And Lore
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| − | |[[Image:Molor.JPG|A Klingon portraying the mythical figure of Molor, on Maranga IV]] [[Image: | + | |[[Image:Molor.JPG|A Klingon portraying the mythical figure of Molor, on Maranga IV]] [[Image:Feklhr-face.jpg|292px|Fek'lhr's face]]<br> A Klingon portraying the mythical --- Fek'lhr's face <br> figure of Molor, on Maranga IV <br> |
Komrek smiled slightly as he settled onto the log before the fire. The young ones gathered around him and sat on the ground, their eyes locked on his. He set his bat'leth beside him and drew in a deep breath. <br><br> | Komrek smiled slightly as he settled onto the log before the fire. The young ones gathered around him and sat on the ground, their eyes locked on his. He set his bat'leth beside him and drew in a deep breath. <br><br> | ||
Revision as of 00:05, 26 February 2012
Klingon Task Force Main Page
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Culture Basics OF MYTH & LORE by Barbara M. Paul It was a clear night and the stars were shining in all their glory. The fire blazed hot as the young ones arrived for their evening of stories and lessons. Komrek was old, had seen many a battle, and carried the scars to prove it. Now in his declining years when his strength was leaving him he found his heart yearning for the Glory days when he would rush into the battle without fear yelling “Kai Kassai!”. His words striking fear into the enemy. He had one more battle left. How he would meet his death would determine his place in either Sto-Vo-Kor or Gre’Thor. He sat on a log near the fire and stared into its flames as the young would-be warriors gathered around him. He could see the fire dancing in their eyes as his mind recalled his younger days when he would sit and listen to the old storyteller partake his songs and legends upon him and the others. Now it was his turn to pass on those tales of Glory and Honor to the new generation coming into age. ‘And though I had slain a thousand foes less one, “Tell me young warriors, how do you want to be remembered? Look up! Now tell me again, what do you see?”
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  A Klingon portraying the mythical --- Fek'lhr's face figure of Molor, on Maranga IV Komrek smiled slightly as he settled onto the log before the fire. The young ones gathered around him and sat on the ground, their eyes locked on his. He set his bat'leth beside him and drew in a deep breath. “It was long ago when the tyrant Molor ruled the Klingon homeworld with an Iron Fist. Many feared him but qeylIS knew in his heart his rule had to end for the sake of the people and the future of the Klingon race so he went into the
Mountains, all the way to the Kri'stak Volcano. There he took some of his hair and thrust it into the molten rock which poured out from the volcano. His hair began to burn and he cast it into the lake of Lusor, and then twisted it into a sword. With the Sword, qeylIS slew Molor, conquered the Fek'lhr, and forged the first Empire. Kahless would also use the Sword to skin the serpent of Xol, to harvest his father's field, and to carve a statue for his beloved Lukara. We celebrate this great victory every year with the Kot'baval Festival.” He said as he began to sing an old Klingon Drinking song. And the blood was ankle deep.
balth potlh law' yIn potlh puS Sources
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