The Great Ram Gorskwan

“Hearken to the might of the Lord of Mount Horren Licht.

“The great ram, Gorskwan, towering as he stands atop the peak. He is a noble animal, far above the mere mortals. Garbed in fleecy majesty, with golden horns curled around his delicate, and yet muscular ears. Tremble before the terror of his riotous bleats.”

“It’s a dumb ram.”

“Hey!” Garrie knelt down, and curled his arm around the wool of the mighty Gorskwan. “Be gentle. He has sensitive, muscular ears.”

Kell snorted, and turned away. Every month it was another tale of the mighty Gorskwan. And every day he had to listen to Garrie tell it.

Gorskwan leaned down, and tore a piece of the sod off the mountain. His teeth gnashed pebbles and rocks to a fine powder, adding a blend of different nutritions to the grass and dirt he swallowed. He scratched himself once or twice, and then moved farther up the mountainside.

Garrie cooed with delight, and followed the ram onwards. “Isn’t he just the greatest? The glorious lord of Mount Horren Licht. The terror of the peak, that’s what you are. Yes, you terrify all spirits away, yes you do!”

Kell followed, trying to keep his mouth shut. He reminded himself what was in store. Garrie needed an extra hand to help push the mighty lordling up Horren Licht. The great and mighty Gorskwan couldn’t be bothered to jump a gap farther than two inches. Leaving Kell to carry him up the slope.

Kell sighed, and thought about better things. The pints back down near the base of the mountain that would soon be his, all on Garrie’s tab. Garrie’s undying gratitude, that turned into several monumental favors throughout the year. The not-insignificant inches of flab that he was burning off carrying this stupid ram up the side of a bloody mountain!

Gorskwan bleated, and then sat down on Kell’s foot.

Kell bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.

“Sorry, sorry,” Garrie said. “He didn’t mean it.”

Yes, he did. Because every time they went up the mountain, Gorskwan landed something on Kell’s feet. Most often just an ill-timed hoof, or a full rear end, sat down just as Kell was trying to turn around. Just to spice things up, Gorskwan would leave a few droppings on his shoes, giving them a wonderful new scent. Kell would delve into his literary repertoire for retorts then, striving for ever more colorful language to describe that bloody ram.

The two struggled to lift Gorskwan up the trail. The ram, for his part, struggled to find every thistle, bush, and scrap of grass to nibble, munch, or relieve himself upon. After several hours of this, Kell finally collapsed. The man was covered in sweat, dung, and sores.

“We can say we got to the top,” he muttered.

And he waited just a few seconds for Garrie to catch his breath and scream “No! Gorskwan must reach the top! He must defeat the thunder spirits!”

Thunder spirits. Invisible specters, determined to destroy all life around Mount Horren Licht. Ghosts that conjured up the pure might of the storms, and would soon rage it upon the poor dwarves that made their living on the side of the mountain. And only Gorskwan could stop them.

Kell bit his tongue, and rolled his eyes. And then he planted himself under that accursed ram’s posterior, and shoved some more.

Garrie hustled forward, and tried to gently nudge Kell out of the way. He planted himself behind the ram. Gorskwan had found some green berries, and Garrie didn’t like to think about what that was doing to his digestion.

Garrie did appreciate Kell. For all of his rumblings, and moanings, he never once called Garrie crazy. Or stupid. Garrie couldn’t see thunder spirits, he couldn’t know what Gorskwan was going through. He just knew that it was all real. That his ram needed to get to the top of Horren Licht every month. And the fact that Kell of all dwarves was willing to deal with him on this…well, it was well worth the bar tab.

Finally, as the sun was starting to set over the horizon, Gorskwan stood atop the mountain. The old ram looked out over the plains. He did in fact look as majestic as Garrie said he was. The golden fleece sparked and crackled, almost looking alive. And his horns caught the setting sun, appearing to burst into flame.

Garrie took out a stiff brush, and started to comb. Burrs, pebbles, and sod rained down the side of the mountain. Kell took his usual spot, at a small outcropping on the other side of the peak. He settled down for a quick nap, and began to snore. Dumb animal, dumb journey. Wake him up with a pint.

Garrie looked down at his fellow dwarf, and chuckled. Sparks ran through his fingers, pulled off by the brush. Static electricity, perhaps. Discharge from all the clumped up wool that had been stored up for far too long. Certainly not because of a thunder spirit. No, never. There wasn’t even a cloud in the sky.

After Garrie finished combing, Gorskwan huffed, and started back down. He nudged Kell awake, and licked him once for his help. Kell scowled, but followed afterwards.

Gorskwan stopped, once, and turned back up to look at the peak. His eyes flashed, and his snout turned into a sneer. The air chilled for a moment, and then stilled again.

Garrie must have been crazy. Gorskwan was interesting, and a terror. Maybe even majestic. Nothing more.

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