The Moon Gift

There is a saying among the Goliath, those large and wise mountain folk whose tradition for oral story telling is severely understated in Couridine, of a gift that is more trouble than it is worth. They call these things "a moon gift" and with good reason. Despite what many think regarding the first were-creatures coming from Fey Lords twisting man and animal together so they may serve as suitable quarry in their wild hunts this is not the first of these cursed folk. The curse's origins lie among the goliath in their war against giants. The tale they speak is one of a tribe whose warriors all laid injured in the camp or dead on the side of the mountains. The son of the cheiftan, bold and proud, saw his people suffer and snuck away in the night so that he may undertake a perilous journey that few but the greatest Goliath warriors have done. He climbed to a peak sacred to his people, his skin covered in frost rime and his body strained to breaking. Finally when he got to the peak above the clouds he looked up to the skies and saw, as if it was waiting for him and staring at him also, was the moon known among the Goliath as Hi'Bris, it was known to govern change as it was at it's highest during the change of seasons.
"My people have always held the moons with great reverence, we have always offered what we could to you as the seasons change great Hi'Bris. My people suffer now, our foes look to break our bodies and souls." The young chieftan pleaded with the crimson orb above him, "I ask for a boon, great Hi'Bris. I ask that you bestow upon our warriors the strength of the great bear, the speed of the prowling sabertooth, and the wisdom of the white wolf. We must fight, we must win."
With these words the young cheiftan felt his blood boil and a fury he had never knew he held within himself was unleashed. His mind was assaulted with visions of enemies on all side and he swung at each of them and tore at himself. This is when he fell from the great peak and tumbled down its side. He awoke with no bruise nor cut on his form. He rushed to his tribe and was shocked at what he saw.
There he found a battlefield covered with the bodies of giants who were torn and ripped apart, not one goliath lay there. He smiled wide, Hi'Bris had bestowed a great boon after all. As he continued to walk he found the camp. This is where his spirit was shattered, there were only the warriors in a state of grief as the entire tribe was slaughtered around them. The young cheiftan knew now what he had wrought, that the fury consumed all and not just the giants. The warriors all went their separate ways, tribless and filled with guilt. The young cheiftan guarded that sacred mountain until his death so that he may stop any young and foolish goliath from making the same ascent he did.