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Thursday, September 29, 2011

DARANGEN: The Abduction of Princess Lawanen


DARANGEN: The Abduction of Princess Lawanen (cont’d)




“How frustrating this can be,” Mabaning complained to himself. “I have been running for hours without even a glimpse of a crew-cut child. If this is always the case; people along my path including sea gypsies in their shanties may become suspicious and flee before I could reach their homes. How can I exchange words with them? I guess,” Mabaning thought, “it is better if I slowdown a bit and disguise myself as a Madem, the savages who dwell on top of trees. If I don’t, it is remotely possible for anyone who recognizes me to speak freely of princess Lawanen.

Slowing down, he walked with ease. He soiled himself with grayish dark clay and looked like a dirty Madem.

Walking down the beach, he saw a pair of gypsies rowing close to the shore.

“Hey!” Mabaning shouted. He waved his hands frantically in the air jumping like a savage. “Please come nearer, I want to ask you something.”

The pair of gypsies’ paddled their small boat towards the beach.
“Madem,” one of the gypsies spoke, “What do you want to ask from us?”

“Which of the coastal regions did you come from?”

“We came from the bay of the Land of the Blooming Flowers.”

“…and who is your chieftain?”

“Our chief is prince Batara sa Minalang.”

“May I know where you are headed?” asked the disguised Mabaning.

“We are going towards Sagorongan a Ragat,” replied the unsuspecting gypsies.

“…the roaring reefs where the tide rises high?”

“Yes,” answered one of the pair. “We are actually on a mission,” said the other.

“We are in search of an alien princess who could be anywhere in the allied sea kingdoms. If we hear any, even a rumor, we are to report immediately to our prince.”

“Why look for an alien princess? Is there anyone missing among the lady kin of Minalang?”

“We cannot say for sure but one thing is certain though. The Flower Kingdom is teeming with people from Bembaran. Some came by foot, others by sea; a formidable force preparing to invade Kadaraan sa Ndaw.”

“For what reason will they invade Kadaraan?”

“The rumor is they are in search of Princess Lawanen, the beauty beyond compare, the fiancĂ©e of Mabaning, the prince-king of Gadongan. Our wise prince however pinned them down at the Flower Kingdom with his oratory. The allied armies are getting restless including Mangatae, the fearful king of the cannibals, Rajah Miros and Rajah Mepangaan, the savage Barbarian king of the upper banks of Bembaran and all the chieftains along the water channels of Bembaran. Our wise-king had promised to rescue the princess himself by force of war if need be but first; find the princess whereabouts.”

“My honest and gentle friends from the high seas,” said Mabaning. “I am only a Madem but I too was commanded by Batara sa Minalang. Like you, my mission is to gather information to find the missing princess. I will be forever indebted to you if you will be kind enough to take this poor Madem with you. I must reach the Baroraw Forest bordering Kadraan but I don’t see how without your help.”

The pair of gypsies offered him a ride without second thought and dropped him at the forested seashore.

To be cont’d…

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

THE HEART OF DEMONS: MAKING SENSE OF 9/11


THE HEART OF DEMONS: MAKING SENSE OF 9/11




If we don't control our children's access to the net...our future generations will be dumb; real dumb.

I have for several times paused for a moment wanting to write about something but I always felt having stopped at a dead end. I feel dumb. We spend too much time in the net. Yes...we get all the information we ever wanted. I rarely watch television from my satellite dish because the net has better things to offer like live and recorded access to ABS-CBN, GMA 7, TV 5 and all the movies I ever wanted to see for free. TFC (The Filipino Channel) of ABS-CBN will be the next casualty of the ever improving technology of the web. Philippine is now the 'YouTube' capital of the world not for anything else but the entertainment it offers and yes...the education as well. You can understand Einstein's theory of relativity in minutes what you failed to understand in years of high school and college.

The 'net' has weaned our children from hours of violent television but ironically...while they can only watch violence on television; they become participants in interactive gaming on the net. They can choose to be heroes or villains, good or evil, gods or demons and pick their choices of weapons.

There are too many things to read in the web...we hardly pause to absorb what we read. Sometimes we read only in passing to get the general idea without bothering to get the details.

In short...we have become robots that is feed and programmed by the net. We no longer pause to question what we read. The masters of the macabre with heart of demons that rule our planet employs it effectively to enslave our minds, bodies and souls. We can no longer distinguish between truths and lies because we barely have the time to pause to make the distinction. We enjoy being embroiled in the midst of conspiracy theories meaning we love to live in the 'fog' of half truths and half lies. The excitement it delivers is almost addicting like opium to the masses that is turning our generation into drugged-like-zombies.

The good side: thanks to the 'net' without of which, Muslims would have been guilty as charged. Not only is technology of the internet spreading the truth of Islam; it is an instrument absolving Muslims from false charges by its enemies with evil intent. While the web is a boost to Islam; it is ironically killing Christianity. Scholars, priests and theologians are exposing all over the web the fallacies of their own faith; it is mind-boggling. I doubt very much if Christianity will survive the 3rd millennium. Like communism, Christianity will die a natural death.

The web is likewise full of smear campaign against Islam but unlike Christianity; these are coming from known enemies of Islam not from its own ranks.

How far into the future the world will continue to remember the events of 9/11 with the same intensity of passion are anybody's guesswork. We will never know the truth with a modicum of certainty but the memory like the past world wars, Vietnam and JFK will eventually fade. It will be nothing more than footnote to history and Google will eventually remove the images from the web. In a span of one generation; the millions of Muslims who died as a consequence of that event like the 32 million who died in World War 2 will likewise fade from our memories.

It is the understanding of this ancient knowledge that life goes on 'come what may' that allows few ruling families and clandestine societies endowed with the heart of demons has for millenniums ruled over the globe. They own every industry and major banks of the planet. They own the media that monopolizes truths and lies. Whoever owns the media controls the passage of knowledge. It can make or break anyone it chooses. It can create a make-believe world like the events of September 11, 2001.

They nurture politicians they can manipulate to their whims. They promote wars to keep the machines that churn out weapons of death working 24/7. A million dead is negligible if the 7 billion people of earth is taken into consideration. A few hundred million dead in a flash will be good for an overburdened planet. These ruling elites think that they are gods and to some extent they are. They have the money and power to do whatever they please and they do it because they can. If the Iraq and Afghan war comes to an end tomorrow, they will bomb Iran the next day. If you understood Obama's acceptance speech of the Nobel Peace Prize...the message was: WAR IS PEACE.

The event of 9/11 is probably the greatest successful experiment in mass human psychology. Ten years on and we are still talking of Hijacking by nineteen Muslim terrorists (six of them are alive and well) armed with box cutters when...THERE WAS SIMPLY NO PASSENGER AIRPLANE HIJACKED ON 9/11 ANYWHERE INSIDE U.S. OF A. There is nothing I can write here that you probably did not already read or heard in the last ten years but there is one however that I found stupendously puzzling...nobody seem to contradict that there ever was a hijacking on 9/11.

The one and only proof of the hijacking that the main stream media (MSM) fed into us was the call by a certain reporter/anchor (of Zionist CNN) allegedly aboard Flight 93 that crashed in Pennsylvania on the way to D.C. She allegedly called her husband to tell him that their plane was being hijacked by what looked like Middle Eastern men with box cutters. It is almost funny and obviously scripted to implicate Muslims from the Middle East. Box cutter is a small knife encased in plastic handle found in every home that OFWs (specially) use to cut the masking tapes on their 'balikbayan' boxes. Some of the passengers allegedly tangled with the hijackers that caused the plane to crash...again almost funny. How could anyone wrestling with a hijacker armed with a small knife caused a plane to crash unless they tangled so hard; it shook and rattled the plane causing it to nosedive. They have to be wrangling elephants. Whoever created these fanciful make-believe stories must be stunned by their own unbelievable success of having fooled billions of people of planet earth of what was probably meant for a joke.

The co-conspirator media successfully mesmerized the people of Earth with mambo jumbo stories. Because of the visual monstrosity of the events of 9/11; people were ready to believe whatever they were told on television regardless of how preposterous the news stories were.

The only way that she could have made the call was via a plane phone but to make that call; she had to make a request from the flight attendant who would have taken her credit card and hand her the phone. Not only was it impossible to do all that while the plane was being hijacked by terrorists; she did not have her credit card with her according to the husband. When the husband realized all these impossibilities...he assumed that she must have called him through her cellular phone but hey...the technology did not exist at the time. The technology to use your mobile phone aboard planes came into existence in 2004. When the husband was grilled further; he claimed that he assumed that it was his wife calling because the FBI said so. It was the FBI who told him that his wife was calling. While Flight 93 was allegedly being hijacked; another flight 93 was grounded in Cleveland after an emergency landing due to a bomb threat aboard the plane.

Except for scattered garbage; there was nothing to indicate that an airplane crashed at the site of where flight 93 was supposed to have nosedived. The smoking crater could have been (obviously) created by a bomb comparable to the 'Bunker Buster' bomb that hit the Pentagon. The crater was empty - nothing. Where was the plane, the crews and the passengers? Like the Pentagon...there was never a plane that crashed in Pennsylvania.

(You can watch the earliest news video that was later suppressed and picture of the alleged crash site here: View Video )

I just saw a video clip that showed things I didn't see in the past at a time when I thought I saw and read all there is to know of 9/11. It shows a frame by frame slow motion of the second plane hitting the South Tower. There was no iota of doubt that big 'something' possibly bombs were attached to the plane's belly. It was a military plane. Witnesses on the ground who were caught on cameras said, "It's not an American (passenger) plane."

It also showed an interview with Larry Silverstein; the owner of the towers (he billed his insurance companies 7 billion dollars for the buildings) who said that hours after the twin towers collapsed...a decision was made to pull down building 7 as well. It was impossible to pull down a 47 stories building at the spur of the moment. To pull down a building that big in a controlled demolition needs months of preparation meaning explosives were already in place before the date of September 11, 2001. Co-conspirator networks later edited that interview but not before it were recorded by others. The event of 9/11 was a conspiracy; not a theory of conspiracy.


NLK

Monday, September 26, 2011

FROM HERE TO TIHAMALAND: A Gift of Life...


FROM HERE TO TIHAMALAND: A gift of life…


“…a father shot her pregnant daughter dead in what appeared to be an ‘honor killing’ incident in Jordan;” the headline reads in every printed major daily in the Middle East.


“I must be getting old for this,” I dropped the suit case, not actually drop but hurled it with so much effort towards the luggage trolley. Pulling it out of the conveyor needed even more strength than usual. After 30 years; I should not be surprised that what I used to lift with little effort now seems heavier than usual not that my luggage have grown in size; the ravages of time is inflicting its toll upon my little but otherwise healthy frame.

 Passing through custom at the Riyadh airport have changed very little if at all. Actually…no longer opening people’s luggage in search of forbidden foods, censored DVDs (it used to be beta max and VHS tapes) and yes; magazines with photos of sleeveless women may appear little on the surface but it means real big for the legions of foreign workers. If properly packaged; Filipinos can now bring their ‘killer’ porky foods without being tossed into the garbage.

The most difficult part of going back to Saudi Arabia is not lifting bags and hurling luggage but leaving behind screaming toddlers and teary eyed loved ones. It is something that one never gets used to. It is painful every time.

It’s hard to believe that six years whoosh by so quickly. In that blink of time however; a lot have changed in my personal world. This could be my last journey back; hopefully.

“Whaaat?” my son’s peers howled almost growled in unison. “You passed the board?” the internet cafĂ©/gaming center was in a festive mood. They heard the good news that one of their own passed the licensure board for nurses.

“How is that possible?” they teased my son. “We haven’t seen you review for the board. You were always here playing,” and the crowd broke into boisterous laughter. Internet gamers are a close-net band of spoiled kids whose parents liked the idea that instead of their kids loiter out in the street; it is better that they spend their time on the net. Parents have little to worry except their falling grades :-)

My last vacation differs from the many previous ones that I had on a very notable change; my children are grown ups as in really adults. Those who are not married are engaged to be married :-(

Am I going to die? The question has crossed my mind so many times. My children seemed to be acting different. They want to relish every moment that I was with them.

We arrived late from a dinner. My wife sprained her ankle when she missed step an elevation at Kenny Roger’s. She cannot climb the stair to the second floor but my children insisted that we watch a video movie together.

“Why can’t we watch upstairs and mom can just rest?” I overheard Naira asking
“This could be the last time we will all be together as family,” Norayda replied. “By the time Dad returns for another vacation; I could be living in my house in Cavite while you and Nader could be living somewhere else with your own families. You are both engaged to be married.”

I realized; she was absolutely right. This is the end of the transition period.

We crowded into our bedroom and together watched; believe it or not…FINAL DESTINATION 5. Sometimes I wonder if December 21, 2012 really does mean something. It’s barely a year away.

 They took me and their mom out for lunch or dinner whenever they can. We went to expensive restaurants and for the first time; my pocket did not have to bleed. They spend money as if there is more where it came from. They hide the bills from us because they knew; the price will make me frown.

It is no joke to send 4 children to private schools. I bought for them the best education that I can afford. When they were young; I gave them a life of plenty. The time has come to show their appreciation. Few days before I left; they hauled their mom and I to the derma clinic to give us facial :-). I don’t know about my wife but that was my first and it was good. I look younger afterwards so I thought.

We were driving back from a leisure trip to Tagaytay City. Nishamae was feverish. By the time we got home; she was really burning hot. She is barely 14 months old. When her mother was told that her child is feverish, she simply said, “So what, daddy is here.”

My children were in panic. My son (nurse) was breaking the ice, another (Optometrist) held Nisha around her arms while one (Med-Tech) put the cool towel over her head and in the meantime; her ‘pharmacist’ mom prepares the medicines. It was a lovely sight. I turned back my head holding back tears that is clouding my vision. Two years earlier; this family was in tatters reeling under a crashing social conflict that I thought we will never recover.

My daughter eloped with her boy friend.

Friends and relatives offered to end it but I persevered. I left it to God.

One mistake cannot by righted by another wrong that is even more extreme. This thing happens because God willed it. I did no wrong to deserve this. God must have a special reason for making it happen so I decided to let events take its course.

My other children feel betrayed by their sister. My eldest who was then in Qatar was furious. She vowed not to step in our house again if I allowed her sister to bring the child home. Another of my daughters who was then at the time working in Thailand was likewise very sad although not as furious.

Their mom was fuming day and night. We all had sleepless night. When she delivered; I told my wife’s niece to email me some pictures which she did. When I saw my grandchild’s picture on a crib; my heart skipped a beat. My daughter’s photo on a makeshift lying-in-clinic pinched my heart.

A month before my leave; a cousin in the company of Maharlika’s no-nonsense characters invaded the Baranggay where my daughter lived and took her by force. It was her request. She wanted to come home for good and we welcomed her with open arms. With another ‘angel of joy’ in tow; the glee has returned to my family; Alhamdullillah!

Indeed mysterious are the ways of Allah; His wonders to perform in many ways than one.
My wife was sweeping the floor at the dining room.

“Nishreen,” she called. “Bring me the dustpan,” but Nishreen ignored her mom. She screamed few times more.

I felt someone was pulling my pajama. I was at the sink washing dishes. I found Nishamae holding on to my leg pointing to the dustpan mounted on top of the waste can.

The main house is about 2 feet elevated compared to the kitchen extension so I built a railing to separate the floors with few steps of stairs to connect. Nishamae when I first arrived used to crawl up and down the stair but in a month time; she learned to slide down the stair up front. When feeling playful; she would scream “dadiii”. I came running the first time wondering what was wrong. I found her squeezed between the railings. As soon as I extended my hands; she let herself fall freely towards me with maddeningly joyous laughter.

My wife and I needed to change her diaper together. One has to pin her down while the other changes the diaper. To infants her age; changing diaper is a game. Again; her laughter is maddeningly jolly. I made funny faces at the wriggling and laughing Nisha as I pinned her down then I paused for a moment.

The serious change on my face was obvious.

I looked at my wife.

“A gift of life,” I mumbled.

“What,” my wife asked.

“Remember what you said to your doctor when Nishreen was born seven years ago?”

“Why legate me, I am already old?” she replied.

“…and she said, she knew of many at your age of 46 who keeps coming back to deliver and besides your husband signed the permission paper to legate.” I added.

“When I signed the paper although I was half awake; I refused to accept anymore gift of life from God. In the time of the prophet; his companions asked him if they can institute methods to prevent their wives from getting pregnant. They did not want to fight in wars and possibly die leaving behind pregnant mothers.”

“You may or you may not,” the prophet had replied. “Those who are willed by God to be born will be born no matter what.”

“…a gift of life,” my wife and I looked down at the lovely Nishamae wriggling to be free, “…no matter what,” and we laughed together as I picked up and caressed our new gift of life.

NLK


Saturday, September 24, 2011

A President Who is Helpless in the Face of Middle East Reality  :   Information Clearing House News

A President Who is Helpless in the Face of Middle East Reality : Information Clearing House News

APOCALYPSE COUNTDOWN 666: Places in Time...


PART I


1
PLACES IN TIME

(If TIME TRAVEL is not possible; the second coming of Jesus will remain to be a myth that will never happen. Cheers…Time Travel is no myth.)


            It is admirable for a man of high positions even considered by many to be almost divine and infallible at that to speak his mind. He struck the last of the coffin’s nail that will bury Catholicism in the next millennium. He preferred Darwin to Adam and Eve and consigned the Garden of Eden to the land of fairies and fables. His name is John Paul II.

            Once upon a time, a boy was born in Arabia. He was descended from Kedar, one of the 12 sons of Prophet Ishmael who lived in the desert of Paran. It is now known as Hijjas from where the word Hajj (Pilgrimage) was derived. His name was Muhammad, may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him. His heart was weak. He was orphaned at a very early age. He was frail and sickly. A good-hearted family took him to a village where the climate was tender to his heart. The angels came and repaired his failing heart. The surgical scar on his back was interpreted as the mark of prophethood by Muslims.

            A Christian monk named Al Bahira (the real name was Georges) was known to have told the story of how while traveling from the Sinai to Damascus; he saw a strange cloud from a distance. He followed it to satisfy his curiosity and in doing so, he caught up with the caravan the cloud was shielding from the heat of the sun. This was how he met the 12-year old Muhammad with a lump or mole or scar on his back just below the left scapula. Georges told Abu Talib, the boy’s uncle to look after the boy because he was going to be a great leader of men.

            In another version, Abu Talib asked the monk how he knew about this and he replied: “While I was following your caravan, I noticed the trees on both sides of the route were bending or bowing in your direction. The trees will only do that in the presence of a prophet. You must protect the boy from the Jews in Syria. It is better if you send him back to Mecca.” The uncle did with few of his men.

            Muhammad grew up to be a man of wisdom. The people called him ‘Al Ameen Al Sadik’ (faithful and true). Friends described him as extremely generous, tender, kind and loving. At about the age of forty, the angel Gabriel spoke to him in one of the mountains of Paran. He was given a mission for God, made a prophet and the Holy Qur’an was revealed to him in parts.


            Isaiah 42 above is a very brief prophecy that foretold the coming of the prophet from Arabia.

Early Muslims were persecuted in Mecca but the prophet was a non-violent man. He endured the cruelties of the unbelievers. Friends and relatives were murdered. He was stoned in another place but he endured it all. He sent his followers to Abyssinia to seek protection under a Christian king. Thirteen years later, he had to escape to Medina. Only after he received a word from God to fight back and proclaim justice to the world did he marshal the Muslim armies from one victory to another.

The great empires of the time succumbed one after another exactly as foretold by Isaiah in 42:13 - “The Lord will march out like a mighty man, like a warrior he will stir up his zeal, with a shout he will raise the battle cry and will triumph over his enemies.” The shouts at the mountaintops where the sons of Kedar live echoed through all the corners of the planet. In the standard version of the Bible, Isaiah 42 is entitled; “a new song for the Lord” which is the recitation of the Holy Qur’an that was revealed to the prophet.

[Christians believe that Isaiah 42 is referring to Jesus which is ridiculous because this prophecy refers to the generations of Kedar; Ishmael’s second son from whom the prophet Muhammad (pbuh) was descended.]

KEDAR: (COPY PASTE FROM THE BIBLE DICTIONARY)
Easton's Bible Dictionary
Dark-skinned, the second son of Ishmael (Genesis 25:13).
It is the name for the nomadic tribes of Arabs, the Bedouins generally (Isaiah 21:16; 42:11; 60:7; Jeremiah 2:10; Ezek. 27:21), who dwelt in the north-west of Arabia. They lived in black hair-tents (Cant. 1:5). To "dwell in the tents of Kedar" was to be cut off from the worship of the true God (Psalm 120:5). The Kedarites suffered at the hands of Nebuchadnezzar (Jeremiah 49:28, 29).

Some years after he received the word of prophethood, God summoned him to heaven. All the prophets from Adam (first) to Muhammad (last), May peace and blessings of Allah be upon them all, were summoned before God. They came from different places in time.

To be continued…

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

THE DARANGEN: the abduction of princess Lawanen (cont'd)


THE DARANGEN: the abduction of princess Lawanen (Cont’d)




          The chain that bound the two ships snapped and Lumbayaw disappeared in the storm adding to the sorrow of the already grief stricken Mabaning.

          The howling wind calmed and the shroud of black fog dissolved unmasking the Rinayong. The storm clouds dissipated clearing the horizon for the first hint of dawn. The throbbing heart of the night is almost faintly audible gasping its last few precious breaths before fading into the day. The morning star shone brightly. A gentle wind blowing from the land of Bembaran sweeps the clouds away from the sea.

          A façade of sunbeams radiates from the rising sun like a torch lighting the sky; its wonders touches the heart as the ripples rolled and faded in the water.

          A melody from Ragara sa Madanding like a whining gentle breeze and the scent of palm flowers blowing from the seaside, with its petals floating in the sea arouses the feeling of homesickness for the loved ones on land.

          The captain of Rinayong in deep thoughts scanned the horizon, which was hazy with yellowish hue as far as the eyes can see.

          Standing by the rail, Somialalao Solog, the vice-king of Bembaran scanned the open sea with a spyglass in hand. He swept the ocean in one gentle motion hoping to see the Kalipapa Daayaw.

          “The Lombayaw must have gone too far off course,” he thought, “or sunk in the storm.” He crossed the deck and noticed someone lost in his own thoughts standing by.

          “My noble friend and brother in law,” said Mabaning turning to Somialalaw Solog. “I want you to bring me to the shore so I can just walk along the seaside and search for the princess I adore. I wish to be alone and by doing so, allay the fear of the dwellers along the way. I will ask meticulously but if my efforts fail, I will go straight to the mountain regions. I shall make acquaintance and befriend the spirits of the mountains. I will also befriend the evil spirits of the seaside and other nature spirits that I can find. If all my efforts prove fruitless then I shall be a drifter until I die or drift to the kingdom that dare abduct the princess beyond compare. Have no fear. May the gods bring me back to the womb that bore me if I don’t burn their kingdom in smoke even if they are made of granite and invincible ore. I shall spare no one, not even a low-hair-cut-child, not even a living fowl.

          “My noble friend,” answered Somialalaw Solog, his vision blurred by heartbreaking tears. “Why do you need to walk all by yourself unguarded and without servants? If you wish, we can abandon this ship and together, we can trek the seaside and the mountains. Together, we shall vanquish the kingdoms in our path in the name of Bembaran.”

          “My dear noble friend,” Mabaning answered. “You know how much I treasure your friendship. You are as precious to me as the princess beyond compare and I shall guard your safety jealously as I would the princess. If you refuse to see the wisdom of my wish, it means that you prefer to see me die in my grief. I cannot just sit on the deck of Rinayong languishing on my sorrow. How else can I find princess Lawanen if I don’t leave? If I don’t find the princess before the onset of the moonless night, the chances are you will find me dead.”

          “In that case, you give me no choice,” replied the patriarch of Bembaran. “Please take my advice, my dearest friend,” continued Somialalaw Solog. “Don’t stray far off from the coast so we can see you from the sea and avoid trekking the mountains. Control your temper and use no force. Had we sailed to wage wars, we will never find the princess. People who know her whereabouts will surely clamp their mouths. They will never volunteer to divulge information if pressure is used even to death. Negotiating in peace and goodwill is always a better alternative. People with knowledge about the princess’ whereabouts will come out in the open freely.”

          Rinayong immediately changed course towards the beach.

          From the small boat sent to ferry him to the shore; Mabaning walked down the plank board without a word. Standing at the beach, he surveyed his new surroundings. Feeling some form of relief, he started walking slowly along the shore while the Rinayong drifted away.

          He climbed over the ridge formulating plans in his mind as frothy foam burst against the reef that blocks the onrushing tide.

          “My O’ my,” Mabaning chanted softly. “I swear by the gods to crash whoever holds the lovely princess against her will. I shall crash it even if it yields willingly to the crown of Bembaran. I shall spare no one, not even a low-hair-cut-child able to fight regardless of whether Bembaran approves or not. I am confident; I can fight alone and better than the famed Paramata Bantugan. When the real time comes to battle, I know of no one among the offspring of Gibonen who can be braver. I know, when the time comes to besiege the Empire of Kadaraan sa Ndaw, I will have no other choice but to lead the assault or else the esteem of Bembaran may come to naught.

          He let out a thunderous outcry that echoed in the forested hills and trotted swiftly down the ridge to begin his elusive hunt.

To be cont’d….