Another custom for
's growing family.
A long time ago when dragons and wizards ruled the earth, a terrible war began. Caught between these opposing factions was a small village, in the center of which was a beautiful cathedral, where the devout would worship and the poor would take refuge and comfort.
During that time however, the tolling of the bell had a darker purpose. When the bells would ring, the villiagers would flee for their lives into the cathedral and take cover from the necromancers, and the swarming army of undead that marched through the hills on their way to the big city.
One day, the necromancers decided to use the villiage for a barracks, and took the villiage by force. Those that stayed locked themselves fearfully inside the cathedral. The holy place of worship was heartlessly razed as an act of penalty for resistance. All hope was lost for the tiny hamlet caught in the middle of the war. Or so they thought.
Out of the rubble and ash, fueled by the sorrow and the anger of the people who had loved it for so many centuries, rose the very soul of the cathedral itself. Massive, radiant and powerful, the deafening bell rang out as blinding white beams of holy light blasted forth from the mouth of the gargoyle, vaporizing the undead and sending the necromancers fleeing into the night. The necromancers lost the war. A new church was eventually built.
The people of the villiage thrived in peace and safety with the help of their massive guardian, who stood watch where it always had, in the center of the town, perched atop the cathedral like a dragon. They had served it well, and it would serve them in return for eternity. The bells still rang out every hour, singing a new song every Sunday, and the undead never walked the hills again.