My world is ruthless, my tribe the deadliest, savages without any ruler among the five tribes of Cygon. No man is brave enough to lead us. My forefathers rebelled against a united Cygon, they claimed they want absolute freedom. With a free freedom comes a price; a price paid with blood, a blood bath fueled by uncontrolled chaos. Out of this chaos breed individual laws, where every man plots to benefit himself in this scornful land of my fathers.
A man that admires his own mother can kill his own father, and become man of the house. No body see anything wrong with that; if a man set eyes on your woman, there is nothing to stop him from pursuing that agenda except a combat to death. The one that emerge victorious took charge of the new household conquered.
If there is any nobility still left among us, then it's the fact that we cherished our Women. We killed the next man for dinner but never a woman, we worship the very earth they walked on, because this one thing we know so well, without the woman life is pointless; for we all sprout out of their loins, after which they nurture as to full bloom, and when we need comfort, pleasure, ecstasy of the flesh where do we turned? Ah! Through the woman creation continues and thrives.
Ah! But Npunga is a land of cruelty, where the animalistic instinct lives free and wild. We lie, cheat and steal, but we never content until the blood spill.
Men and women who couldn't stand the status que exile themselves and blend with the other tribes in Cygon where their safety was guaranteed. But who say we can't bring honor and balance to this once superior tribe?
So the Npunga tribe as we were known carved out our own territory where no man ventures into. I Ghandaa have fought many battles among my own people and against intruders. And I have never lost a battle.
I am perhaps the most feared among my tribe to an extend where some of the influential lords in the clan were considering making me king of Npunga, the first of my tribe…. had it not been the prophecy as it has come to be known, a declaration from The old priestess who refuse to share the story about the ancestral curse that has enslaved the house of Npunga for so many centuries.
The smell of power can drive any man insane; surely, the power was within my grasp. The only one standing in my way was the old witch. Nobody really knows how old she is, but she has been there long enough as far back anyone in the tribe could remember.
Well; I hate the past, I despise history even more, for the story about the curse in my tribe I never want it to come out. I need visionaries on my side that are forward looking. For this reason, the old woman has to die along with her sleeping sages, while they seclude themselves sleeping, we eating each other's flesh, never wasting the blood, for is there a drink rival sweet hot blood?
And now here comes Jhanka from the clan of Zanka, who looked down upon us with scorn and disgust, they claim they want us among the other tribes, and for that to happen we must bow the knee and desist from our diabolic ways.
The first time I set eyes on Jhanka the crown prince from the house of Zanka as rode into our territory as an emissary from his father, the king of Zanka to propose a peace deal, that will give us a permanent place in the court of Zanka, we decline with gritted teeth indicating our displeasure. We want their sweet royal blood, and they know it. here they come with peace treaties. Only one reason was clear they are scared for they aware if we ever rise against them in battle, their life's will not be spared.
I Ghandaa the fiercest warrior in my clan wanted to personally rip the head of the shoulders of that pompous crown prince, Jhanka. What guts he had, to have gallantly rode into Npunga erect on his white unicorn of a horse, attracting attention and admiration from both gender alike, an offense that can never be forgiven, as long as I Ghandaa the chosen of my clan is alive.
The only thing that stop me from killing the boy that day was the fact that he was admired by my own people…. It was written all over their faces, there they stood, out in the open, smitten by his grandeur as if enthrall by an invisible power.
No; if I try anything foolish the throne of Npunga will slip from my hands forever. So I bid my time, till its due. Many awful things do they give us credit for; what they never consider is the cunning of a determine Npunga.
...
So Ghandaa started plotting to assassinate Jhanka, but soon realize the prince was as cunning as a chameleon. All his attempts proofed futile. Most of his trusted allies in Werga, Wagara and kumta who also harbor an ill intent, and considered Ghandaa the right man for the task soon loss faith in the barbarian.
Ghandaa had never felt this lonely and vulnerable in his entire adult life. As the year's drift by; he only became more envious and blood thirsty to the point of insanity. So deep were his wounds, he couldn't afford to go back. He had to find a way to destroy the royal court of Zanka itself.
His ambition was not a secret among the elders of his clan. Soon they were all engrossed with the plotting enticed by the gains if the royal court of Zanka is to be defeated, his allies had promise to share with him the spoils of war.
So with a zealous combine energy, a perfect plan begun to emerge. What they needed was information, and for that to happen, they needed to tackle the problem with a different approach.
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