The Making of a Man

Long was the process to heal Tagunban’s broken arm, though Tagunban was lucky in the fact that the break was a clean one and that time spent in a more properly constructed splint fashioned by Yawanu could heal the arm completely; as opposed to being crippled for life. In the Interim years of his thirteenth and fourteenth rains though much of his warrior training would be waylaid out of necessity though he did still run laps around the village. This was a time to instead focus on his spiritual training, the pain of the broken arm served as a useful fulcrum in his meditation. Though the primary focus for the training of that time was in sensory training, to prevent him getting blindsided by anything else living or dead in the future. Using his newly awakened physical mana Tagunban would charge his senses in the same way he reinforced the killing thrust into the tiger’s neck, the hearing of the tiger, the sense of smell of the boar, and the eyesight of the rooster; all would slowly become Tagunban’s as he trained diligently.

When the annual monsoon rains finally subsided, when the rivers and creeks flowed without torrential wrath again; when Tagunban reached his fifteenth rain would his broken arm finally be declared healed by the shaman Yawanu. Not only did the bone heal completely but it healed back stronger even though Tagunban would have to train diligently to restore the muscular strength of the arm just in time for an important milestone in his life. One clear starry night Tagunban would hear the familiar hoots and cries of the warrior’s bonfire in which it is decided if and who their warriors shall raid that year. “Tiger Slayer, come join us!” shouted the Clan Chieftain from his position at the head of the bonfire. Tagunban had never had much interaction with the Clan Chieftain, a man even more elderly than his father with long unkempt wild white hair and whose dried out leather hide skin was more coated in scars than tattoos by this point. Tagunban stepped out of the hut and strode to the opposite side of the roaring bonfire to the chieftain. “Yawanu says your arm has finally healed boy, admirable your battle with the tiger was its high time you joined the ranks of the clan as an initiate and started raiding with us. Tell me, do you feel you’ve regained the use of your arm enough to not hinder the warrior you’ll be supporting?” asked the chieftain bluntly and commandingly. In turn Tagunban would find the largest log he could not already in the bonfire and place the remains of the splint he was going to hold as a keepsake originally on it. Then taking the massive log in both arms he would fling it into the fire with a loud crash and a heavy thud as warriors circled around the fire cheered in response. “Does that answer your question chief?” Tagunban answered with bravado as he faced the chieftain. “It does indeed, and answers it well at that. You will serve as an initiate under your older brother Bongao supporting our flanks.” Ordered the chieftain before bringing his attention to the rest of the warriors. Yawnu told me the spirits say this year will be a hot and hard one, with a long dry season. Therefore we raid South, to the jungles!” shouted the chieftain as he held his axe aloft in the air before a cacophony of hoots, cheers, and whistles bellowed out from the warriors in bloodlusted frenzy. “We move at dawn in two days, you have until then to prepare.” Ordered the chieftain again before setting his axe down and the circle breaks when everyone goes to enjoy the bonfire in their own ways. Wrestling, eating, singing, dancing, and drinking were among the many activities the warriors broke into in celebration. Katas, Katsu, and Bongao all quickly approached Tagunban. “Bold move in front of the chieftain with that log throwing display little brother.” stated Katsu with a smile on his face before being interrupted. “I told that old bastard to make you my initiate on the front lines, heh at least you’ll be with family still.” Katsu stated with a smirk and a friendly tone, him and the chieftain being long time friends. “You’ll be my first initiate little brother, though knowing you you’ll probably get a head in your first battle.” chided Bongao in teasing envy. “Not likely even for a prodigy, this is just a quick raid not a full war. I have my doubts the flanks will see much real action, probably why the old man had you two young ones set there. This is Bongao’s first raid as a true warrior with his own head and Tagunban’s first raid; he doesn't trust either of you two yet. Still you can watch me in action and learn. Now go enjoy the bonfire.” responded Katas assured in his experience and wisdom. With that the group broke as the three half brothers nodded and then joined in the night’s jubilations. The first time he was allowed to join the bonfire celebration as a warrior Tagunban over indulged in the rice wine and roast pig resulting in vomiting that night and a pounding hangover the next day. The two days quickly passed in a rush of packing, weapon maintenance, and shamainc ritual. Before long the dated morning had arrived and all the able bodied men of the village awoke at the crack of dawn yet the final packing of supplies onto the tribe’s water buffalo took hours to where the sun began to crest the summits of the Eastern Hills. Yet right before the war party could finally make its move Tagunban’s mother Mayumi rushed to meet him, tiger skin in hand. “Tagunban wait!” she shouted before she caught up to him panting. “I decided to turn your tiger skin into a cloak in honor of your first raid.” Mayumi blurted out in between breaths as she presented the expertly crafted tiger skin cloak to Tagunban. The cloak was of expert work clearly made with the effort of all Katas’s wives in order to be ready in time. With fine sewing the head was positioned as to where it would sit atop Tagunban’s left shoulder and would connect to itself underneath the jaw with an iron pin. “Wow this is incredible, thanks…mom” Tagunban responded before hugging the woman and thinking maybe just maybe there could be some room for two mothers across his different lives. Tagunban put the expertly fitting cloak on before waving his mother and sisters off as he ran to join the war party that had begun to leave.

Thus the war party set off Southward down the hilly lands of the highlands using the sun and remembered landmarks to navigate themselves. The warparty was spearheaded by the chieftain himself along with Katas and another veteran warrior Tagunban knew as Ta Da whom never spoke much and was missing his right arm. The first day of travel was by far the easiest even with the fact they had to go up and down in elevation multiple times in order to traverse the Highlands before marching down into the Skyless Jungle. The excitement still burned in everyone’s blood and energy levels were high were the resting and feasting of home, as the sun began to set behind the summits of the Western Hills travel stopped and the warparty circled into a camp in an almost level plain. As the weather was fair tents were not set up and warriors were expected to sleep in their cloaks for the night, yet as they were still in their tribe’s territory wood was gathered and a series of campfires were light for the warriors to heat up their rations of smoked meat and whatever they may have foraged along the way. Thus this cycle repeated the next day, before the third day they came upon a massive village in the valley of two hills. Most all the architecture of this massive village was made of stacked stone in place of wood including a massive wall with lookout towers along the entire perimeter of the village.

As the warparty approached the massive wooden gates made of logs so large it took teams of gayal to open and close them the Chieftain, Katas, and Ta da were greeted by a warrior with hand on holstered sword. “Tell the warchief the Axe Clan is passing through on a raid and demands succor for their travels.” ordered the warchief in a place of authority. The guard then nodded to a contemporary who ran inside the walls. Ten minutes later a signal whistle was given to which teams of animal handlers began to whip their gayal into motion and open up the massive gate, to which the Axe Clan’s water buffalo were handed off to the guards to be penned as the warriors were allowed into the tribal stone city. While it obviously had nothing on the metropolises of Tokyo or Osaka that Kagetora had seen in his life the sight was still an impressive one for how much it dwarfed the Axe Clan village. The warriors were then directed through the city and to a massive stone longhouse atop a hill with another smaller stone wall around it. The war party entered the longhouse to see a long series of tables lined on each flank by kneeling pillows before a large throne or elaborate forged iron make. The man who sat upon that throne unamused by the war party’s entrance was a surprisingly young man maybe into his thirtieth rain yet covered in more tattoos than the chieftain, Katas, or Ta da. The man wore an incredibly elaborate headdress of feathers that showed every color of a rainbow and then some. Along with a shirt and shorts of extremely intricate blue patterning with plenty of golden accessories such as rings, piercings, neck and arm bands, and even a large nose ring. “Tell me axe clan, where do you intend to raid after you’ve had your fill of my hospitality?” ordered the man in a haughty and impatient tone. “We seek to raid southwards into the jungle home of our ancient enemy for food and heads.” answered the chieftain in a controlled annoyance at his tone and accusing them of taking advantage of hospitality. “Then if you want the Sword Clan and your warchief to continue accommodating your warriors on your way back you will pay tribute; food, slaves, gold, I don't care which.” Responded the warchief with a smug grin but disinterested tone. “The Axe Clan is happy to exchange gifts with their brethren.” The chieftain responded in his own smug tone, insulting the notion of tribute but still promising goods. The warchief’s eyes narrowed as he sent an annoyed breath of air through his nostrils, yet not wanting to embarrass himself through escalating the matter he would simply respond “As long as the Sword Clan sees restitution in sponsoring your raid then I care not what you call it. You may go to your lodgings now while I have the cooks make you food from our stores.” ordered the warchief before waving the war party away. With a stoned face the chieftain turns and leads the war party to the various stone huts and lodgings dotted around the walled region encircling the long house. The Chieftain, Katas, Ta da, Katsu, Bongao, and Tagunban then relieved themselves of the traveling gear as they got settled into the same hut. “That little bastard gets more and more arrogant every time we see him, he doesn't deserve the title of warchief!” Katas ranted furiously as he stomped around the cold stone hut. “I only stopped on account of how many young warriors we had in our warband today, they deserve to see the heart of the tribe even if our warchief thinks himself some sort of king. Honestly, paying tribute? Even the rest of the Sword Clan isn't that blatantly arrogant.” The Chieftain muttered in the same rhythm as Katas while Ta da silently shook his head in contempt. “Also what did he mean by slaves?” asked Tagunban the implications bothering him as soon as he heard the word; while he heard it before back in the village he'd never actually seen any slaves or heard of any sort of slavery in the village. “It's mostly a Sword Clan thing, men and women captured in raids or indebted to their elders stripped of their rights to moot and move around and stuck as servants under their owners. It was never really our custom.” responded the Chieftain hand on Tagunban's shoulder. As everyone settled and rested their travel weary bones a slave with a brand on his forehead entered the hut door. “Food is ready” the lightly tanned man stated in a heavy accent before turning and leaving. The war party would then gather and assemble at the longhouse before being sat down to a simple meal for dried fish and rice porridge while the warchief himself was treated to an exorbitant meal of marinated pork, buffalo bone soup, and stewed taro leaves all obviously meant to be an insult to the warparty. They ate company in an awkward silence of palpable frustration, though briefly the warchief and Tagunban's eyes met. Strangely then he the warchief then kept eye contact for a moment with a grin on his face, one of knowing and sinister ideas before returning to his luxurious meal. When the chieftain, Katas, and Ta da finished their meals they simply got up and went back to their lodging without saying a word, something considered incredibly rude when you're being hosted. Tagunban however was too caught up in his own thoughts of why this arrogant warchief may have any interest in him whatsoever. Eventually though Bongao managed to nudge Tagunban with his arm and the pair slinked away just like their father. “Did you see the warchief staring at me?” asked Tagunban as they walked. “I didn't notice, I couldn't really see his face over the mountain of food though. Maybe he realized you look like our dad?” responded Bongao before they entered their hut lodging. “Why would he care about that?” questioned Tagunban in return. “Politics maybe? Get to you and they can get to dad.” answered Bongao in turn. “Good point, I didn't think of that.” affirmed Tagunban as he opened the wooden door only to see their father Katas ranting like a mad man inside the hut to the chieftain and Ta da. “I'm gonna kill him! Little bastard is too proud to refuse a duel and he needs to die!” screamed Katas as the chieftain and Ta da held him back. “The dinner was a mockery but so is feeding his arrogance with your anger, you calm down now initiate!” The Chieftain ordered in a stern tone before Katas stopped and took a long breath but visibly shaking with rage. “Besides with this display I have a better idea for revenge then you storming in like an angry elephant.” elaborated the chieftain further. “Now go tell the men we're leaving at dawn and won't be eating the warchief going away meal.” finally finished the chieftain as he sat down on his bed for the night. Katas then stretched as Ta da let go of him in turn and then strode out the hut door to do as he was ordered.

Just like the chieftain ordered, the war party roused at dawn that morning and quickly packed their things before heading to the gate without a word. The men gathered their water buffalo as well as the supplies on them without aid from the pen keepers. When they reached the gates a guard stopped them hand on sword hilt. “If you think the warchief will stand for the display of mockery you can thi~” the guard attempted to bark before being grabbed and pinned against the stone wall by Katas axe in hand. “You tell your men to get that gate open or else the Living Wildfire will burn it down himself!” Katas told the man in a low threatening growl before creating a jet of flame to shoot out his axe like a cutting torch. The man stuck his hands up and Katas let him go before he could give the signal whistle for gayal handlers to open the gate again. The war party strutted out in their stride unopposed leaving the Sword Clan’s stone village. The next week of marching was harsher, not rejuvenated by a proper feast or a great rest morale was lower than expected. Still the men marched by day and set camp by night. Once they left Highland Tribe territory the nightly campfires and camaraderie gave way to night watches and advanced scouts. The sky closed in as the jungle grew thicker the further South they went until the jungle floor got so dark it began to resemble dawn at mid day. After a week of hard marching since they left the Sword Clan tribe an advanced scout would run panting up to the chieftain. “We found a village half a day's run from here chief.” Stated the scout between exhausted breaths. “Good then we'll match tell night and attack in the morning.” Ordered the chieftain as the war party descended into celebrated hooting and whistling. Before they would eventually finish their march for the day and sleep spread out and only in their cloaks. Tagunban struggling to sleep for the night as his mind raced about the thoughts of real combat.