Once, very long ago, there lived a librarian. For years, the librarian took care of a small library, watching over the books and tomes in the halls, distributing knowledge to the masses. After learning of the town, the Chieftain of a warrior tribe had decided to take the place as their own. Sweeping through the village, the raiders destroyed many houses. As the village was small, and the library was the biggest building in the town, many of the villagers crowded into the library in order to survive. As the rest of the town collapsed away, the refuge of knowledge stayed afloat in the sea of turmoil. For days, the villagers held out, but every day as the barbarians mounted increasing attacks, the walls of the library shook. The few villagers who dared to go outside quickly went missing, to never be seen again. The librarian did their best to take care of the villagers in the only way they knew how; by distributing the books. As the days went by, the people began to wither, dying from starvation and fear of losing their lives to the cold edges of axes and spears. Unable to do anything but watch, the librarian tried to comfort the inhabitants as they drifted off to sleep for eternity. Filled with great sorrow over the death of their neighbors, the librarian fostered a great hatred for the enemy sieging the last stronghold of the people. Eventually, every one of the people of the town breathed their last breath, except for the librarian. Cursed to walk the empty halls of the library, the starving librarian sat down to ignore the world and fall asleep, for the last time. As the librarian drifted off to sleep, their frail form began to change. Their arms shortened into wings, and their thin body was molded into a stout abdomen. The librarian became the first owl to fly the skies of the world, retaining the wisdom of a scholar. But every owl, to this very day, asks the same question, none of them knowing the answer. Who? Who was the chieftain who orchestrated the misfortune of the first Owl?