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This legend begins with a dim rememberance of the dry age. Now, there was a great drought which plagued most of the known lands. Men and beast used up the last of the water holes and wells and lakes and streams and peril was amidst them all.
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During this time Trow (the true and gigantic trow) ruled the lands and their tribes battled endlessly. There were two main tribes distinguished by colors — the Red and Blue tribes. The Red tribe was ruled by a fierce Female trow, Queen Giganton Unboobre. She ruled the east and was feared by all. She did not kick, nor punch — no no, she used her ... other assets when in battle. The sounds of her cleavage clapping and crunching another challenging Trows' heads thundered through the lands. Both of her weapons could not be rivaled. The Blue tribe named each one but that has no bearing. Many a blue Trow's head was popped by her thundering womanhood. She was unstoppable or so thought to be. The Red tribe (of which she represented) loved and supported her. She would lead them into battle and boost the saddest and gloomiest of her fellow tribesmen with a simple jiggle and a big wink. After a time she began to catch wind of a prophet from the Blue tribe.
This young Trow prophet (FaithCharm) boasted tales and visions of the destruction of her tribe through his doings. She challenged this little Trow to a duel. This event was talked, betted, hyped, analyzed, debated until the day came under a full moon. There a huge gathering of the Blue and Red tribes met. There was a large circle of stones formed and out stepped the anatomically superior female Queen Giganton Unboobre. Her jeering and impatient shrieks and hissing for this prophet called FaithCharm led the moment to a tense climax. Out he stepped the smiling into the ring, standing seven feet tall, almost half the size of the Queen. She fell over laughing at this and was met by glances of disapproval, for the crowd wanted a fight. She raised herself and a few minutes later her weapons off the ground and circled this tiny Trow. She got on her knees and charged him, and he shut his eyes and smiled. As she charged her bulging womanhood was thrust ahead, and she screamed her battle cry. The sharp and fierce upper biscupid teeth of FaithCharm were protruding from his stout little mouth as he bashfully smiled at her charging chest. It seemed to be all over. She clasped her cleavage about his head and there was a terrific explosion! His teeth burst her chest and the boom which rattled the land was met with a flood and rain of her milk. It drenched the land and soon the streams, and lakes, and wells, and water holes, were filled again. Thus endeth the dominance of the Red tribe and thus endeth the Dry Age.
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