life in general

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: July 23, 2016

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Submitted: July 23, 2016

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On the border of three great lands, Astrakhan, Thelasean and Roijar lies a tiny village amongst the river deltas, Surayd. It is a lush green landscape, an area of plenty and also, now, an area of peace.

Eight generations ago it wasn't so peaceful and prosperous. The land was drier, there was less to eat and there was the Huruni. The Huruni were stronger, more muscular and more aggressive. The Suraydi for many generations had to give up the best food and survive on what they could.

As the years passed the Huruni increasingly dominated the placid Suraydi to the point where the Suraydi knew they had to fight just to survive. The Huruni no longer just took the best food, they attacked for no reason and raped the Suraydi women. The Suraydi weren't going to win with strength, they needed to use their intelligence and cunning, it was a case of kill or be killed.

They planned and plotted, they needed to destroy their enemy. They needed to find every weakness and take every advantage. There was no room for error, one mistake and their enemy would destroy them.

The strongest Huruni would be hunting first thing in the morning. The Suraydi women, that they loved to rape, would be gathering in the same area bending over collecting yams. Loin cloths rising and exposing their genitals with the morning sun giving their skin a warm soft glow.

Sure enough this was too much for the men to take. They couldn't concentrate on hunting with this show in front of them. They liked what they saw and always took what they liked. Leaving their weapons they proceeded to have their way with these weak women.

Today they would not be taking what they liked. Hidden in each womans basket was flint dagger. Today would be the last time they took anything. These weak women would soon leave them bleeding out on the ground. No food would be taken back to the tribe from these hunters and the weapons would now be in the hands of the Suraydi.

Standing on North East side of Hurun half the Suraydi men taunted the Huruni and of course they responded aggressively. These men would not let these inferior unarmed Suraydi get away with this. They ran straight out to teach them a lesson with their fists.

Of course the Suraydi ran and the Huruni were close on their heels. Heart rates and testosterone were high. The sandstone cliffs loomed up on them,  parted and funneled into a narrow gorge. A chaser grabbed one of the pursued and began pounding into his face with a clenched fist and a snarl. While the victim tried to lash out with his fist and run away.

Above, a rumble and rocks began to crash on the sides of the gorge and tumble to the ground and fill the gap. Seperating the two groups but crushing the two men locked in battle. There was nothing the Huruni could do except yell agressively.

They returned full of anger to their village thinking of how they would kill those weak men. How they would drive their spears through their stomachs, crush their skulls with rocks or just strangle them with their bare hands.

High pitch screams from the village ring out in the morning air. Something wasn't right. They hurry back and are confronted with the dead body of their chief with his wife clutching him and sobbing. Many stab wounds cover his body. Soon they discover their food and weapons have disappeared as well.

Confusion and panic spreads throughout the village. One man stood up to the challenge and kept his head while others were losing theirs. He gathered the men and told them that the Suraydi obviously led a distraction to kill their leader and they needed to find the warriors out for the morning hunt and annihilate thier inferior rivals in their own village. His fellow men saw the intensity, passion and confidence in his mannerisms and complied.

Into the golden sunlit savannah they search, riling each other up, intensifying their hatred of this weak race. As a whole their breath is taken away when they stumble on their slain comrades. Their hatred vanishing into thin air with their shock.

The leader of this group stood over his own brother, rage building.


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