The Legacy of Norwig I

      Around the 8th, 9th and 10th centuries b.c. (human timescale that is) lived the Viking cats. These were largely Norwegians. The great warlords of these Vikings are well known and worshipped by kittens everywhere (you know the sort of thing, like King Arthur and the knights of the round table). The greatest of these is Norwig the Wild or King Norwig I as he was later called. There are many things written about him, one saga I present here:

Let the saga of the cat be told
 A killer of rats, a feline bold.
 Before the fame, before the glory
A wisecat’s words foretold the story:
“Into war, my son, you’ll go,
Try to tell the friend from foe,
Use your judgement: join the free.
Of your quest, halfway this be.
The other part of the journey’s this:
Don’t get lured by deceptive bliss,
Don’t fall prey to barbarian hordes
Seek and find the Overlord.
Challenge him, the price is life.
He’ll take out a magic knife.
Deceive him. Bluff!
There is a breach in force so tough.
Strike for it. Fast!
Before he could return your blast.
If you reach it you will win,
Cower, will the tyrant’s kin.”

Once in days of time gone,
Lived a cat; and all night long
From dusk till dawn
He hunted vermin.
 Then one day it happened that
 Fate clapped eyes upon the cat
 As he hunted for a rat.
 “You’re the chosen from your kin.”

 And driven by some unknown urge,
 Calling a howling dirge,
 The cat went off upon his quest
 Heading slowly to the west.
 He reached one day
 A land that lay
 Betwixt two mountains, rough and cold;
 Two high mountains, lined with gold.
 There he joined an army force,
 Fast promotion took its course
And soon he was the one in charge
Of an army, strong and large.
Vanquishing enemies he progressed
Until he reached the sea at last.

He soon grew bored,
The fighting lord,
 And taking with him the best,
 Saying goodbye to the rest,
 He left
 Towards the northern cleft.
 Far and wide journeyed the cat
 His return awaited at
 The harbor he called home.
 When at last he touched old loam
 He found
 That while his back was turned around
 A tyrant had taken his land.
 “I will slay you with this hand!”
 The cat yelled, swinging its sword.
 “Ha! You wouldn’t even cross this ford,
 My soldiers will slay you halfway there.
 Leave cat, have a care.”
 The cat turned and strode off,
 Hiding a snigger in a cough.
 That night when the conquerors were asleep,
 A sentry died without a peep
 And a shadow small and dim
 Cut the tyrant from limb to limb.
 The next morn
A barbarian herald blew his horn.
“Our warlord is dead
And there’s a stick with his head,
Held high over a troop of cats.
Out of our fur they will make mats!”
The rabble turned its tail and ran
And the cat returned again

This did not end Adventure’s call
Peaceful times did not fall
The cat marched forth
Again going to the north
Although this time he rejected ships.
Listener, be quiet and read my lips:
Monster eagles they did see,
Giant beasts from which all flee,
Mounts of ice among the waves,
Beautiful diamonds inside caves,
Goblins who use lethal swords,
Weird skeletons bound by cords
And… cats.
Pure white with dark blue eyes
Who told of a place where treasure lies.
Of course, the cat went after it,
Heading towards it, bit by bit.

He returned back home at last,
Leaving adventure in the past.

      The truth behind this story (starting from the second verse, the first one's just there for beauty) is the following. Norwig had humble origins. He was just an ordinairy cat. One day he set out to, what is usually called, "seek his fortune", traveling to the west. He joined a revolution, found out that he had a natural ability for leadership and became the commander. He was a natural warrior and when he found this out he started to conquer all surrounding cat-nations. In the end he became King Norwig the First of Norway and all Lands thereof. Basically the rest is self explanatory.

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