Ninja Dude
Sorry, I wasn't listening...
Iptsima traveled slowly on the war canoe, thinking deeply about what he was about to do. Izawau had sent him on a mission to stop the evil Byzan people from bringing further destruction upon our new friends, the Norwal. Apparently Mesaqoo assistance would yield a valuable reward, one which could help out the Mesaqoo greatly. Money. With it, Izawau would be able to bring prosperity to the Mesaqoo. Or at least, that’s what he said. Iptsima thought of this. At first he met the thought of going to war with disgust and was disturbed at his masters orders. But then Izawau made everything clear.
2 days ago…
“Upon talking with the Norwal, we shall no wage war against the evil Byzan.” Izawau announced to a crowd. They cheered while Iptsima looked on quietly. “They cause brother to strike brother. They turn old friendships into bitter rivalries. Already their armies fight savagely to keep the poor people of Byzan enslaved and trapped. But now we shall liberate these people, striking from the sea into the heart of the Byzan!”
The crowd cheered once more, shouting words of praise to Izawau. A feast took place that night, celebrating Izawau’s decision. Many men sat around camp fires, singing war-songs and saying how many of the horrid Byzan warriors they were going to slay. It was a night of great joy among the Mesaqoo, who danced and sang well into the night. But one person was still not at ease.
“What is the purpose of this master?” Iptsima asked Izawau, who was now sitting alone in his hut. “Why should we go to war for these strangers? If they are true and just, will they not win anyways? Such is the Way of Life[1], as you have told me.”
Izawau shook his head with a smile. A false smile, but it was enough to fool Iptsima.
“My young apprentice, you have learned quickly. You now see what is really going on behind the scenes. There is another reason for war, one which I think you should know.”
Iptsima braced himself, expecting some horrible secret or conspiracy that would turn his stomach upside down.
“Money.”
“What?”
“Yes, money Iptsima. The Norwal are paying us handsomely for aiding their cause.”
Iptsima couldn’t believe it. His master, wisest and greatest man he had ever known was now talking like fat, old Kimtumeh.
“I know this seems like a shock to you Iptsima,” Izawau said, wearing a false mask of emotion on his face. “Look at the people out there Iptsima, playing and dancing. I love them, each and every one. But I don’t think they realize what it means to keep their lifestyle safe. The world is a dangerous place, and what I’m doing now is ensuring that we aren’t gobbled up by the evils of the world. With this money, I’ll be able to invest in keeping our people happy and safe. Kimtumeh didn’t understand this, and that is why his people suffered.”
Iptsima cringed at Kimtumeh’s name. Images of his bloated corpse flashed through his mind.
“Who shall lead this attack for the betterment of our people?”
“You Iptsima. Your heart is pure, and your skill is unmatched in this land. I know you will show mercy to those who deserve it, and strike down the injust. Now prepare for your trip. You will travel by canoe to the east with 750 men. Try to capture as many villages with as little bloodshed as possible. I counting on you.”
….
Well, that was then, and this is now. Iptsima looked through the eerie fog on the water, seeing the vague outline of a village. He had come to his target. He had no more time for thinking. Now it was time for action, to make everyone at home proud. He gave the signal for the warriors to cry out in one voice.
“We have come, Mesaqoo of the sea. Surrender now, or fall!” Their mighty voices traveled loud and clear to the men standing on the shore. They heard some horns blow and drums beat. Apparently surrender was not what the Byzan had in mind. No matter, Iptsima didn’t expect them to surrender anyways.
The men on the shore waited, going into formation. There was an eerie silence as they waited, clubs held firmly. They expected might warriors to come out of hundreds of ships, charging them with ferocity. But no sound of war could be heard. Some of the soldiers began to think it was trick, and began to panic. Some even began to leave the beach. But then they stopped dead in their tracks.
A soft voice, traveling through the air like a soft breeze traveled to the men. The words were unfamiliar. Not unfamiliar like the Mesaqoo language. That they had heard before. But this sounded different. The words seemed to escape description, words seemingly impossible to imitate. The warriors stood there, dumbfounded and wondering what was happening. Then another sound came into their ears.
The sound of rushing water. Slowly the voice grew quieter and quieter, replaced by the sound of a massive wave. The men dropped their weapons and began to run, but it was too late. The fog had hid how close the wave was. It was nearly on top of them before anyone could take more then a few steps. Within seconds men were crushed under the raging waters.
One soldier looked up, his body broken by the force of the wave. He saw a small group of canoes land on the beach, effortlessly moving behind the rushing water. The soldier saw a young man get off of the boat.
“Capture any survivors,” the man said. “Alert the village that Iptsima has come, bringing the will of Izawau with him.”
---------------------------------------------------------
[1] The Way of Life is the Mesaqoo people's "religion" so to speak. They generally believe that the universe itself is god, and that it will correct all problems. It places empshasis of the philosophy of live and let live, although now people are begining to see the leaders of the Mesaqoo as living embodiments of the Universes will. In this way the ruler of the Mesaqoo is a god-ruler, whose word is law.
The Mesaqoo believe that once dead, a soul goes to inhabit a totem, until it is put into a new body. In a way they believe in reincarnation, but they also believe that spirits inhabit the totems. What exactly spirits do in totems, the Mesaqoo don't really know.
2 days ago…
“Upon talking with the Norwal, we shall no wage war against the evil Byzan.” Izawau announced to a crowd. They cheered while Iptsima looked on quietly. “They cause brother to strike brother. They turn old friendships into bitter rivalries. Already their armies fight savagely to keep the poor people of Byzan enslaved and trapped. But now we shall liberate these people, striking from the sea into the heart of the Byzan!”
The crowd cheered once more, shouting words of praise to Izawau. A feast took place that night, celebrating Izawau’s decision. Many men sat around camp fires, singing war-songs and saying how many of the horrid Byzan warriors they were going to slay. It was a night of great joy among the Mesaqoo, who danced and sang well into the night. But one person was still not at ease.
“What is the purpose of this master?” Iptsima asked Izawau, who was now sitting alone in his hut. “Why should we go to war for these strangers? If they are true and just, will they not win anyways? Such is the Way of Life[1], as you have told me.”
Izawau shook his head with a smile. A false smile, but it was enough to fool Iptsima.
“My young apprentice, you have learned quickly. You now see what is really going on behind the scenes. There is another reason for war, one which I think you should know.”
Iptsima braced himself, expecting some horrible secret or conspiracy that would turn his stomach upside down.
“Money.”
“What?”
“Yes, money Iptsima. The Norwal are paying us handsomely for aiding their cause.”
Iptsima couldn’t believe it. His master, wisest and greatest man he had ever known was now talking like fat, old Kimtumeh.
“I know this seems like a shock to you Iptsima,” Izawau said, wearing a false mask of emotion on his face. “Look at the people out there Iptsima, playing and dancing. I love them, each and every one. But I don’t think they realize what it means to keep their lifestyle safe. The world is a dangerous place, and what I’m doing now is ensuring that we aren’t gobbled up by the evils of the world. With this money, I’ll be able to invest in keeping our people happy and safe. Kimtumeh didn’t understand this, and that is why his people suffered.”
Iptsima cringed at Kimtumeh’s name. Images of his bloated corpse flashed through his mind.
“Who shall lead this attack for the betterment of our people?”
“You Iptsima. Your heart is pure, and your skill is unmatched in this land. I know you will show mercy to those who deserve it, and strike down the injust. Now prepare for your trip. You will travel by canoe to the east with 750 men. Try to capture as many villages with as little bloodshed as possible. I counting on you.”
….
Well, that was then, and this is now. Iptsima looked through the eerie fog on the water, seeing the vague outline of a village. He had come to his target. He had no more time for thinking. Now it was time for action, to make everyone at home proud. He gave the signal for the warriors to cry out in one voice.
“We have come, Mesaqoo of the sea. Surrender now, or fall!” Their mighty voices traveled loud and clear to the men standing on the shore. They heard some horns blow and drums beat. Apparently surrender was not what the Byzan had in mind. No matter, Iptsima didn’t expect them to surrender anyways.
The men on the shore waited, going into formation. There was an eerie silence as they waited, clubs held firmly. They expected might warriors to come out of hundreds of ships, charging them with ferocity. But no sound of war could be heard. Some of the soldiers began to think it was trick, and began to panic. Some even began to leave the beach. But then they stopped dead in their tracks.
A soft voice, traveling through the air like a soft breeze traveled to the men. The words were unfamiliar. Not unfamiliar like the Mesaqoo language. That they had heard before. But this sounded different. The words seemed to escape description, words seemingly impossible to imitate. The warriors stood there, dumbfounded and wondering what was happening. Then another sound came into their ears.
The sound of rushing water. Slowly the voice grew quieter and quieter, replaced by the sound of a massive wave. The men dropped their weapons and began to run, but it was too late. The fog had hid how close the wave was. It was nearly on top of them before anyone could take more then a few steps. Within seconds men were crushed under the raging waters.
One soldier looked up, his body broken by the force of the wave. He saw a small group of canoes land on the beach, effortlessly moving behind the rushing water. The soldier saw a young man get off of the boat.
“Capture any survivors,” the man said. “Alert the village that Iptsima has come, bringing the will of Izawau with him.”
---------------------------------------------------------
[1] The Way of Life is the Mesaqoo people's "religion" so to speak. They generally believe that the universe itself is god, and that it will correct all problems. It places empshasis of the philosophy of live and let live, although now people are begining to see the leaders of the Mesaqoo as living embodiments of the Universes will. In this way the ruler of the Mesaqoo is a god-ruler, whose word is law.
The Mesaqoo believe that once dead, a soul goes to inhabit a totem, until it is put into a new body. In a way they believe in reincarnation, but they also believe that spirits inhabit the totems. What exactly spirits do in totems, the Mesaqoo don't really know.
