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September 27, 2009 
After the Battle of the Great City, and the Fall of the Golden Panthers, much talk was made of the Dark Lord Saban and his new general, the man whose hair they say burned like fire, and whose commands were true, and whose sword struck the helm of those who opposed him with great precision. And wise men from far and near gathered, and they asked one another, “Who is this warrior who has gained the favor of the Dark Lord? For he commands the Great Youth, and even when The Great himself does not fight, still he leads his forces to victory?” And verily, these words reached east, all the way to the ocean, and they reached west, across the Mighty River, and to the wide and open lands where longhorned cattle roamed. And in those lands, a man heard of this, and he said, “Truly, I trained this warrior. Under my teaching did he learn his craft, and I know his every ebb and flow.” This was true, as many years before had the Field General fought under the tutelage of this trainer, and many victories had they won. But now, he had moved on to greater things, and the favor of Saban had he gained, and the man who had trained him had an army that had fallen into ruin. But the man said to those warriors who still stood with him, “My boys, if we can defeat the Field General and his forces, perhaps he shall see that my way was the right way, and Saban steers him wrong.” So from the far west did he march his troops, and he met the Field General and the Exalted Army in the Promised Lands. Wise men speak little of this battle, for as the learned may guess, the battle was bloody for the ragged western army, and the Exalted Army defended their lands with ease. So badly were they beaten that before the sun was halfway set, the Field General was called back by the Dark Lord, saying, “All is aight. Once you learned under this man, but now you are a part of The Process, and truly you have processed him who once taught you.” And the young ones who Saban had called to his cause stepped forward, and they slew almost every member of the western force, who could barely be called an army at all.
And as the bloodbath drew to a close the Mighty and Powerful Saban, his eyes burning with the fires of victory, pursued those who ran from his wrath, and he cornered them at the borders of the Promised Lands, and he told them, “Young warriors…you know know the power of The Process. You know that the competitive spirit holds intensity that you cannot match. Go back west, and find someone who can match what you have seen here today…for if you can, you shall be avenged.” And those battered warriors ventured back to the west to find such a force, not knowing that the Great Dark Lord already knew there were none in those parts who could match his power.
The battered warriors journed long, across the Mighty River, and north of the lands they called home, to a place where waters gushed from the earth with the heat of the sun, and they found a general called The Traveler, who had once commanded an army of mercenaries in the Great City, and who the Dark Lord had defeated before on his own grounds. And they asked him, “Traveler, can you oppose the Great Saban? Our forces merely broke upon him like the waves break upon the beaches, and we know that when you opposed him before your forces did the same.” And the Traveler smiled, and he told them, “It is true that the Dark Lord defeated me. But in those days my field general was weak, and my forces unsure. But now my men have great faith in my teachings, and I have found a new warrior to lead them. The tip of his helm touches the clouds, and when the throws his spear it flies with such force that it is through his foe before the poor soul knows he is struck. I shall make him ready, and I shall march to the Promised Lands, and there shall be my greatest victory. ”
And he went before this mighty warrior, who was called The Giant, and he said, “Now, the time has come. Prepare your men, for we lay waste to the Exalted Army before the fortnight falls.”
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