"There once existed a fowl, audacious and proud, who refused to be called Razgarr The quail. He stumbled and spattered, idly nattered and rejected all notions with a scowl. Then dawn came and the Norn's they aimed, to subjugate this unruly fowl. He was gripped by the wings, his beak took an ominous sheen and his head was locked in a pail. The shrieks and the cries, he wailed sighed but his dissent would soon abide. For the beatings, the thrashings on this rapscallion dashing, would begin and never subside. He was battered and slathered, his clothes ripped in tatters and his antlers were sawn and thrust onto the shelf. Then when he fled and cantered he went, he was tied to a tree and branded. With an elk being carved into his talons, it was thus known that he was a felon. After this ritual the fowl was habitually beaten and he relented and became my quail. Thus is his tale of Razgarr The Quail, my loyal and wonderful fowl. Soon I will breed him and then I will beget him with a hen possessing an emerald glean. Then I will have more of these wonderful quails and will always be in good company."