The Herald from the Far Beyond/Great Combat Tale One

Dulltooth versus Facebreaker

Cast of Characters:

Dulltooth: Ruthless Chief of the Ribsmashers

Facebreaker: Deceptive Chief of the Groinsquashers

Jawbone: Son of Facebreaker

So it Begins,

In ancient days in the rural region now known as Ausvania, Duchy of Cer, there was a war between two mighty tribes, the Ribsmashers and the Groinsquashers, known as the Great Combat. These tribes fought for a generation in this region, but neither could best the other outright before the other recaptured their loss. It was a match of equal strengths, like an arm wrestle between two giants. The only way such an event could end would be by the failing endurance of one of the participants. This was how it was with the tribes.

The two chiefs of the belligerent tribes were mortal enemies. The war began with them when they were young and of the same tribe. Dulltooth, Chief of the Ribsmashers, owned a jewel-hilted sword coveted by all in the land. It was a gift from his far travelling uncle on his wedding day. Facebreaker, Chief of the Groinsquashers, was so envious of this gift he stole it. Dulltooth vowed he would recover the sword by killing Facebreaker – their tribe split down the middle and went to war. One half supporting Dulltooth’s claim to the sword, the other denouncing Dulltooth for losing the sword in the first place, saying that it belonged to Facebreaker who was successful in his thievery. The barbarians that they were, simple logic of the Most High applied naught. This is a tale from that era of combat, describing the raid of Dulltooth which retrieved his sword for the moment but caused an even greater injustice and the persistence of the war for another decade. It is an epic confrontation between two great magnates.

1

Facebreaker woke up early that morning, weary and groggy from the cold dirt floor. His woman rolled over still blanketed in slumber. He exited his tent and searched the sky as he walked over to the bucket of water. The sun was nearly beginning to be in full view, and the gray earth was subtly brightening blue.

Jawbone, son of Facebreaker, was already cleaning his horse when he saw his father sip from the pale. He waved and approached the muscular gargantuan.

“Father, do you think today would be a good day to attack the Ribsmasher camp?”

“Discussing war so early in the morning? My boy, what about this weather and that sun? Are those not beautiful sights worth acknowledging?”

“I have already seen the sun and sensed the weather. I have been awake for a whole hour before you left your tent. What else should I be thinking about?”

“Oh right. Well…” And he scratched himself to satisfaction, “I suppose if it is as warm as it was two days ago, we will find today a perfect day to attack. How are the horses?”

“Fed, cleaned and bored, just like the men.”

“Ha! You should say, fat, weak and lazy! These men have been eating more than they have been killing! You know what, no matter what the weather is like we are going to attack today. Spread the word to all the unterchiefs. Today we do battle!”

Jawbone responded with excitement, “It is about time! I will sharpen your sword first.”

Facebreaker finished drinking then returned to his tent. His woman, not yet his wife, was awake bathing her feet in a tub. She also used the water on her hair and face. When Facebreaker entered, she offered some for him to drink. He declined with reason that he already drank from the bucket.

2

That same morning, on the other side of the hill past the Burned Tree and near the river was Dulltooth’s camp. He awoke that morning too, as did all of his men. They anticipated the perfect weather of this day and planned an early sneak attack. Dulltooth was on his horse rallying the men with mountainous words.

“Ribsmashers! We have a chance to overrun the Groinsquashers this very morning! That reaving Facebreaker will taste his own blood! I want my sword back, and he will pay for my loss!”

They cheered. Dulltooth turned his horse in the advancing direction, unsheathed his sword and pointed it to commence. With a loud roar he ordered the march.

The horsemen, some two hundred and forty men, armed, furious and bloodthirsty, followed their leader away from the river, past the Burned Tree and to the top of the hill. From this point, they overlooked the unaware Groinsquasher’s camp. Imminent to attack, Dulltooth surveyed the camp. With a battlecry unheard of since the time of the unbeatable Barrelfist, Dulltooth commanded his men to invade.

3

Down the hill the sweep of man-mounted war animals galloped. The trod of the horses’ hooves vibrated so powerfully that the tents closest to the hill fell apart, sheets covering the occupants. The men on the other side of the camp hurriedly gathered their weapons and armour but were overrun before they could properly prepare. Blood and flesh fed the blades of the Ribsmashers. The Groinsquashers were caught off guard and felt heavy losses very quickly. Those who were able to arm themselves engaged the horsemen as best they could. Brutal spontaneous methods were used to dismount the enemy such as dismembering the front legs of the horse, or stabbing the horse in the head. The man who fell off was immediately pelted with rocks by the women, or stomped on by the children, before he could get back on his feet. The Groinsquashers on the ground then continued to the next mount. Tent poles were also used to spear off riders.

Facebreaker fought using these methods, and he finished off his opponents with his club. He was particularly skilled with the blunt weapon, breaking bones, teeth, and as his name reveals, faces. On the handle he outfitted a spearhead which he often used to tear open throats. Any fighter who challenged this chief was in for a gruesome death.

Dulltooth was still on his horse, slaying the warriors beneath him by slashing at their foreheads or faces, depending on their height. He kicked a few and rammed one by charging with his horse. After each kill he moved closer and closer to Facebreaker, who was near the centre of the camp. Dulltooth was determined to end the war in this very battle, finally recovering his sword and killing the man he hated so much. He had this determination every time he entered battle. Every time he felt he was closer and closer, but robbed by the foul deceptions of Facebreaker. Not this time he swore, and this early surprise attack was to fulfill his proclamation.

4

The Groinsquashers were losing this battle, unable to dismount the horsemen fast enough. Facebreaker saw Dulltooth riding closer, leaving a trail of corpses and screaming people – women and children along with warriors. He braced himself for the fight.

Dulltooth finally reached the centre of camp and saw Facebreaker facing him. Dulltooth did not see his sword in the hand of his enemy so he spit these words at the man.

“Facebreaker you low rotten man, where is my sword!? Or are you inviting me to torture you for the information?”

“The sword is mine Dulltooth! Why do you need it back?”

“What is that supposed to mean? You stole it from me! What reason would I release ownership of it? Are you so stupid to think I would allow such nonsense? You are making your death all the more enjoyable fool! Surrender my sword and give up your life now. Your camp will be raised and your tribe annihilated if you do not.”

“Dulltooth! You have everything a man could ever want. Only a vain greedy man who was blind to the blessings of his world would be so attached to such an item.”

Dulltooth dismounted and sheathed his weapon. Facebreaker set his club beside him.

“Have you lost your mind? What have we been warring about all these years? Of course I want the sword. It is mine. It was a gift on my wedding day, should I not desire to recover my own gift?”

Dulltooth could not understand Facebreaker. Facebreaker sighed, finally confessing the motive behind his actions that fateful wedding day.

“You do not need it.” Facebreaker, said.

“Speak louder, swine.” Dulltooth barked.

“You already have the most precious thing in this world, Lydia. The sword should mean nothing to you.”

Dulltooth stepped back in awe.

“My wife?...What of her?”

“I had nothing, no one, no hopes. You were always the accomplished one. You killed Crazyhead, you won the archery contest, you raised the best horses. I was in love with Lydia since we worked the farm – before either of us ever knew how to wield a sword, and you took her too. This sword, it was too much. One lifetime should not have so much good fortune, it is unnatural. Life is suffering and misery, struggle after struggle to eat, to sleep dry and warm, to fend off disease or rampage. I stole your sword Dulltooth because I wanted it. I wanted one success in my whole life. Lydia loves you and I can never have her. I can at least have this sword.”

Facebreaker pulled out the item from his tent and stuck it in the ground between them. Dulltooth said nothing – the battle still unfolding about them.

Dulltooth picked up the sword and looked at Facebreaker, who was weeping. Dulltooth spoke,

“…This sword belongs to me, but I see your heart clearly. Yet, it is not right to take what belongs to others, no matter what the object. You must make accomplishments for your own life not pilfer from others. Facebreaker, we were such good friends until that day, I had no idea you were in love with Lydia. Why did you not say anything then? If only I knew I could have set my heart on another, or –“

Just as Dulltooth was speaking, almost reconciling the chiefs, the event which caused the persistence of the war occurred. Jawbone, seeing his father without arms in front of the sword carrying Dulltooth, rushed over and leaped towards Dulltooth. Dulltooth blocked the attack and without hesitation counterattacked. With swift strikes, Jawbone lost his arm and had his throat slit opened.

Shaking on the ground before his father, Facebreaker’s son’s life gushed out from his neck. The anger, the pain, the loss, numbed Facebreaker who screamed in horror. Dulltooth realized who the young man was that he just ended and saw tears that would be paid for in years of blood stream from the face of the man across from him, the morose Facebreaker.

Facebreaker picked up his club and squeezed the handle. Dulltooth raised the sword and stepped back, closer to the horse.

“I did not know who it was Facebreaker. Believe me, we could have ended this war here and now. I have my sword. We will break off our attack and leave you in peace…don’t do anything you will regret.”

“This war will not end Dulltooth! You have your sword? I demand revenge! The only regret I have is not killing you before you slew my son!”

Facebreaker swung his club as Dulltooth swung his sword. They battled right until nightfall. The war lasted another thirteen years, the sword switching hands every once and a while…

The End of another tale in the Great Combat of the Ausvanian Tribes

The Most High rejects revenge as a legitimate reason for battle, but in this instance, the emotion of the story and the might of the main characters make this an unforgettable Sautican tale. May the Most High remember the tragedy of the Ausvanian Tribes long and may your people learn to use better, proper, reasoning when deliberating motives for war. It is the intention of this tale to provide listeners with the wrong concept of reason so we may then educate them with the sophistication of Sautican ways. The tragedy of the Great Combat is a lesson we will all carry with us in our hearts whenever we enter the battlefield next.

Many blessings.