Ktharn was scheduled, as tradition would have it, on the night of the first new moon after the first heavy snow of the winter. Being the singular rock festival dedicated exclusively to the genre of lumberjack death metal, it drew a wide variety of well-known acts, including the Loathsome Crickets, Chainsaw, and Wood Knot.
Fans began pitching tents one week prior to the event. They came in droves, donning trucker hats and skulls, and plaid lightning bolts on overalls.
The festival kicked off with a powerful number performed by Tree Killer called “Dead Wood”. Having imbibed copious quantities of the local ale, the crowd was in a raucous and cheerfully festive mood that night. Containing the fans’ energies became an increasingly impossible task as the night went on, and finally the local authorities had no choice but to join in the festivities.
The debauchery would continue through nine legendary nights. Spirits were high, despite one unfortunate incident, involving a chainsaw and three Harley Davidsons, which saw a few overly ebullient fans off to the hospital. They all returned to the festivities two days later, minus a few fingers.
It was on the last fateful night of the festival that the Legend of Ktharn was to be born. Perhaps the technicians working that night had succumbed to the crowd’s enthusiasm, or perhaps they had just had too much lager and whiskey to drink. Some say the equipment was faulty. Then there are those who still believe that the anger of Thor had been raised by the excesses of the revelers. Whatever the truth may be, it will never be known, as it now lies buried deep beneath the ice.
The closing act on that last night of Ktharn was “Rest in Pine” performed by the legendary Woodsome Warriors. Chainsaws roared in musical unison on stage. The throng was in such a frenzy that the very earth shook with their dancing, and their screams echoed throughout the land. The Woodsome Warriors began their fifth encore, and an awful, thunderous CRACK! was heard to emanate from Mount Thorn, the highest peak in the mountains above the valley. The band played on.
As the Woodsome Warriors wailed their way through their act, the noise of the crowd’s celebrations was overcome by the thunder of the approaching avalanche. The deluge of ice, rock, and snow was barely visible on the mountaintop, but it could be felt in the earth, beneath the mingled roar of the music and the wild revelers. As the Woodsome Warriors were swept with the howling crowd into the frozen chaos of rock and ice, their performance reached a fever pitch. The lead singer’s shriek rose high above the din of squealing guitars, raging chainsaws, and the thunderous sounds of the avalanche. The band was riding high on the advancing wave of destruction. The crowd, or what was left of them, screeched their euphoric delight. When the rumble of the avalanche finally came to halt, it had covered most of the village below. The Warriors drew out the last lonesome screech of their epic performance atop a mountain of ice. The crowd stood in rapt silence, awestruck at what had just been witnessed.
The survivors emerged, crawling slowly out from under the debris of the aftermath. A slow smattering of applause accelerated into a victorious swell as the Warriors stood breathless before waves of adoration. Having obliterated its host community, the lumberjack death metal festival would never again take place, but the Legend of Ktharn would live forever in the hearts of those who had born witness.