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@ElderGod-Winter-The-Renegade-Legionnaire book

The Curse of Macha
There was once a man of Ulster named Crunden. He was a farmer, and a good man, but he had had a terrible misfortune. His wife had died, leaving him with three young children and no way to take care of them. His house was in disarray, and every day he had to get up and leave his young children to go and work in the fields, knowing that this was no way for them to be raised, but having no other option.
One day, when he came home from a long day at work, Crunden opened the door, expecting to see the usual shambles. To his astonishment, the house was neat as a pin, the children all clean and quiet, and a beautiful woman sat by the fire, cooking the dinner. The woman told him her name was Macha, and she had decided to be his wife. Not one to argue with this great fortune, Crunden settled in to married life.
Macha was a perfect wife to him, keeping the house clean and the children happy, and taking perfect care of Crunden. He knew she was a woman of the otherworld by the way she moved: she could run so swiftly that her feet barely touched the ground, but she never made any fuss over this, only going about her business as a wife and mother.
One day, the king of Ulster summoned all his people together for a feast, to celebrate his purchase of a fine new team of chariot-horses. Crunden was excited to go, but Macha took him aside and warned him not to speak of her, not to boast about her, or he would bring disaster down upon them. Crunden promised he would not, and away to the king’s feast he went.
The new horses were beautiful, grey and swift and perfectly matched, and the feast was a great one, showing King Connor’s great generosity. Crunden ate and drank, along with all the other people at the feast, but he remembered Macha’s warning, and when the other men began boasting about the beauty of their wives, he kept his mouth shut. When the other men started boasting about the cooking of their wives, Crunden bit his tongue. But when the king boasted that no creature in Ireland was faster than his new horses, Crunden could not keep quiet any longer and bragged aloud that his wife was so swift, she would beat the king’s horses in a race.
Stung by this, King Connor ordered his men to seize the boastful farmer. He demanded that Crunden send for his wife, and if she did not come to prove the truth of his statement, Crunden would pay for his lie with his life.
Men were sent to Crunden’s house, but when Macha opened the door, they could see that she was heavily pregnant. Nonetheless, they told her what her husband had said, and that if she did not make good his boast, he would pay for it with his life. Macha agreed to go with them, with a bad grace.
When she came before the king, Macha begged him to consider her condition, and postpone the race until after she had given birth and had time to recover. But the king had been brooding on the insult Crunden had given him, and he refused her plea. Then Macha turned to all the warriors of Ulster, the Craobh Rua, or Red Branch, assembled there, and asked them to intercede, to protect her. She reminded them that each one of them was born of a woman, and that it was not right for them to put her in this position. But none of them stepped forward for her, none would plead with the king. They had been drinking at the feast, they were eager to see this race, and see their king put the boastful farmer in his place.
Something about Macha must have given King Connor pause, because before the race, he had his charioteer strip back all the decorations on his chariot, all the cushions and cloths that made the ride easier, till the king’s chariot was barely a plank of wood with wheels, as light as it could possibly be. He then stripped off his armour and heavy cloak till he stood in his lightest linen tunic, and dismissed his sister Deichtre, who was his charioteer, and took the reins of the chariot himself. Macha waited.
The race was held on the grass outside of the king’s fort, where there were no stones or uneven ground to trip the horses or foul the wheels. All the men of Ulster gathered there to watch, as the king and Macha raced.
The king raced his matched horses, and they ran as swift as the wind, moving in perfect unison, pulling him so fast he felt he was flying. But if the king raced as fast as the wind, Macha ran faster. She outpaced the wind itself. Her feet seemed barely to touch the ground. But as she ran, the birth pains came on Macha, and she began to scream.
All the people watching felt suddenly that this was not the great sport and entertainment they had thought it was.
Screaming in agony, Macha ran the course, and crossed the finish line with her belly protruding in front of the noses of Connor’s horses. Then, having won the race, she collapsed onto the grass, and in a rush of blood, her twins were born, still and dead. She gathered them into her arms, and put a curse on all the warriors of Ulster.
For failing to use their strength to defend her in her time of need, Macha declared that their strength would become useless to them. Whenever they needed it most, their strength would desert them, and for nine days and nine nights, they would endure the pains of a woman in childbirth. This curse would last for nine generations: each fighting-man of Ulster, as soon as he was old enough to grow a beard, would come under the curse.
With that, Macha gathered her dead twins, leaped over the heads of those watching, and ran off, never to be seen again. And from that day forth, the fort of the King of Ulster was known as Emain Macha; the Twins of Macha.

@ElderGod-Winter-The-Renegade-Legionnaire book

The Hound Of Cuilan
His uncle, the king of Ulster, was Conor MacNessa who had a band of warriors, known as The Red Branch Knights and Setanta wanted more than anything to be a member of this elite group. Since he was a small child, Setanta had shown almost superhuman abilities of magic, poetry, wisdom and warfare, when he was still quite small he told his mother that he wanted to be a member of The Red Branch Knights. Of course, Dechtire told the young boy he was too young.
Setanta had a happy childhood and enjoyed playing the game of hurling with his friends. This is the national game of Ireland and is similar to lacrosse or hockey. His team were very good at the sport and always won. When he was ten, he approached his father and told him he wanted to join The Red Branch Knights, again he was told he was too young, so he stayed helping his parents by carrying water to the house, chopping wood and milking the cows.
One night a story teller arrived at Setantas' home, he told of the exploits of King Conor and his Red Branch Knights and while everyone slept, Setanta left for King Connors castle taking his hurling stick and ball with him. It took him a long time to get there because it was a great distance, but there was a hurling match in progress when Setanta arrived and he joined in. The other players were jealous because he was such a skilled player, after the match he went to find King Connor and asked if he could stay and to his delight, the king agreed.
After some days had passed, the king asked Setanta if he would like to accompany him on a visit to Culains house where a party was being held. Setanta thanked the king and told him he would come later as he had to play in a hurling match. Later on Setanta arrived at Cuilans fort and outside guarding the premises was Cuilans ferocious guard dog. This dog was well known as being the biggest, most ferocious, meanest and most fearsome guard dog in the whole of Ireland and it immediately attacked Setanta, who took his hurling stick and killed the dog with one blow.
Hearing the commotion, Cuilan rushed out and was relieved to find the boy uninjured, but was naturally upset about his dog. He told Setanta that the dog had been the best guard to his fort he had ever had, so Setanta offered to guard do the job himself until the dog could be replaced. He told Cuilan that he would be known as "The Hound of Cuilan" which translates to Cuchulainn.
Over the next few years, Cuchulainn, as Setanta became known achieved high status in the Red Branch Knights. He grew to be a very handsome man and was popular with many of the local girls, but Cuchulainn fell in love with Emer, the daughter of Lord Forgal, the Wily, Emer refused to marry him until he had acquired even greater status in the Red Branch Knights, so Cuchulainn then went to the Isle of Sky and trained for many years with the warrior goddess Scathatch.
Cuilan would be known as "The Hound of Cuilan" which translates to Cuchulainn.
Finally, having completed his training Cuchulainn returned to his homeland and found Ulster under attack by the Nechnan warriors, turning into a berserker, he killed them all and made his way to the fort of Forgal the Wily. Forgal was displeased at the idea of Cuchulainn marrying Emer and locked her away in a tower but the determined warrior broke into the tower, rescued Emer and ran away with her to get married.
Cuchulainn fought in many more battles and was eventually killed during one of them, but his fellow warriors propped him up against a large rock with a spear in his hand and a shield on his arm looking ferocious enough to terrorize his enemies even after he died. He was later avenged by Conall the Victorious and to this day his exploits are talked of.
Considered by many to be the greatest Celtic warrior hero of medieval Ireland, Cuchulainn was brave and strong, and knew how to fight. He rescued the girl from the tower and had his death avenged, he was the perfect hero of legend.

@ElderGod-Winter-The-Renegade-Legionnaire book

Okay, so they are in the canon mythology. The legendary werewolves of Ossory, a kingdom of early medieval Ireland, are the subject of a number of accounts in medieval Irish, English and Norse works. The werewolves were said to have been the descendants of a legendary figure named Laignech Fáelad whose line gave rise to the kings of Ossory. So basically, there was an entire kingdom full of werewolves, and everyone was like well it's normal. They were also some serious fighter when their land was threatened.

@ElderGod-Winter-The-Renegade-Legionnaire book

The moon callers who walked the forests of old Ireland, The Man-Wolves of Ossory
Ancient Ireland was said by some to have been plagued by a particularly large and fierce breed of wolf, and men would sometimes go to war with them, or call them to war alongside heroes and champions! They would even make so bold as to attack villages and towns, and a great pack of them assailed Coleraine in the year 1650.
To battle these fierce wolves of great cunning and speed were bred the Irish wolfhounds, a mighty breed of dog which can grow to the height of a man's shoulders. But older stories yet claim that wolfhounds weren't bred to hunt wolves at all, but a darker sort of beast which was part wolf and part man!
The ancient book written by Irish monks, Cóir Anmann or the Fitness of Names recounted the spoken histories of the druids and bards who remembered the lines of kings, and spoke of a prince called Laignech Fàelad, whose brother Feardach was the first king of Ossory, or Osraí.
His children and all the people of his tribe could from that day forward change themselves into wolfen form and raid the herds and homes of their enemies, going a'wolfing as it was known, devouring cattle and people with equal lust. It is for this reason that the wolf's head became the banner of Ossory of old.
And when an Ossorian lived as a wolf their human body lay still and cold at home as if though dead. When they were about to change into a wolf strict orders were given to friends not to touch or move the human body for if it was moved to a place where the returning spirit could not find it then the person was doomed to remain in wolf form for the rest of their life.
An even older legend recounts how three werewolf women came forth from a cave once a year during the harvest feast to slaughter sheep and other livestock, and who were finally lured to their doom by music, and massacred.
So seriously were these stories taken that they even came to the attention of the Vatican, and received the seal of Pope Urban III, perhaps the first ever tale of the werewolf recorded in Christendom!
For it was in 1182 that a priest by the name of Giraldus Cambrensis, or Gerald of Wales, royal clerk to the British King was making his way from the north in Ulster down into Meath, as he was exploring the country and writing it all down in his Topographia Hibernica.
He stopped to rest for the night, and after darkness had wrapped itself about the world and the fire was burning down to embers, what should he hear but a gruff, throaty voice echoing out of the darkness, asking him to walk into the forest.
Well he would not and he was terrified out of his wits with it, but after he calmed down a bit he convinced the speaker to step forward into the light and be seen, and what should emerge but a mighty wolf of yellow fang and grey fur.
This wolf told Giraldus that he was an accursed son of the tribe of Ossory, who had been damned to send forth two of their number every seven years in the form of a wolf by Saint Natalis of Kilkenny, son of Aengus Mac Natfree king of Munster, six hundred years before! As wolves they would stay and live for seven years, until they returned home to be replaced by another couple.
Well when Giraldus heard this he was greatly troubled, for having read the writings of Natalis he knew him to be a strict and unbending man of God who would brook no deviation from his own interpretations of God's law. And of course being long dead, the curse could never be lifted.
The wolf who didn't give his name told the priest that his wife had been wounded by hunters, and was in her death throes not far off, and since they were both Catholics they'd like if he'd come and hear her last confession.
And so he went – after some persuasion – to a nearby cave and found a she-wolf, who spoke in turn, and gave her confession and received the viaticum before passing away. And when she did, she turned back into an old woman, to the astonishment of Giraldus.
Before he wrote to his Bishop and thence to the Pope, Giraldus reflected on the words of Saint Augustine, who also spoke of shapeshifters -
We agree, then, with Augustine, that neither demons nor wicked men can either create or really change their natures ; but those whom God has created can, to outward appearance, by his permission, become transformed, so that they appear to be what they are not; the senses of men being deceived and laid asleep by a strange allusion, so that things are not seen as they really exist, but are strangely drawn by the power of some phantom or magical incantation to rest their eyes on unreal and fictitious forms.
Although no wolf has walked the dark forests and remote hills of Ireland for many a long year, at least that we know of, still you can travel to where Ossory once st old.

@ElderGod-Winter-The-Renegade-Legionnaire book

I belong to Clan Gunn. Here's some info:
Clan Gunn
Gaelic Name: Guinne
Motto: Aut Pax Aut Bellum (Either peace or war)
Badge: Juniper
Lands: Caithness and Sutherland
Origin of Name: Norse, Gunn-arr
Pipe Music: The Gunn’s Salute
Clan Chief: Iain A Gunn
https://www.scotclans.com/scottish-clans/clan-gunn/gunn-crest/
This is my clan crest.
https://www.scotclans.com/scottish-clans/clan-gunn/gunn-tartan/
This is my clan's tartan.
(We have one heck of a motto, and the fact that it was of Norse origin, is actually quite a funny story. The Norse took us as captive, we were pissed off, so we killed them, stole their ships, and sailed back home, burned their ships, had a huge bonfire and cooked over it, and then drank mead until our hearts were content. We decided to keep the name, to remind us that were weren't weak.)