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Stats: 2,317,027 members, 5,106,515 topics. Date: Tuesday, 20 August 2019 at 07:35 PM
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by skyblueking(m): 10:20pm On Aug 05|
Na so e be me too..
The guy is just too good...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 1:32am On Aug 06|
It took Ade-ajaoye another two days to reach the second-province and thus the next city, a city called Apoti-Sakasiki.
They entered the city shortly before nightfall and sought out the compound of the chief once again.
They were granted an audience and the highpriest and the chief, Fashakin omo Kalejaiye, greeted warmly like old friends for that was what they were.
Fashakin had been there when Ade-ajaoye as an extraordinary and very strong-headed boy of not more than thirteen full seasons had set out on a quest to question the god of thunder and lightning, Orisa Sango, as to why a bolt of lightening in a clear day had struck his mother dead.
Fashakin as a young and thriving warrior was the first to recognize the young child as a prodigy.
The first sword Ade-ajaoye ever owned had been given to him by the aged chief.
Two full-seasons later Ade-ajaoye was to return the favor by saving his life on the battlefield and because Fashakin did not fall on that day he was able to later on rally his warriors and engage the enemy from behind, cutting them off and taking them unawares.
The war which raged for three full-seasons was decided by that single act.
The two men although separated by age were indubitably joined in history.
They both sat and spoke for a length of time.
Ade-ajaoye told Fashakin omo Kalejaiye of everything that transpired from when he battled the ghommids till present for he trusted his judgment.
His wise words had served him well on many occasions.
The old chief listened to everything in silence and when Ade-ajaoye concluded his narration he let out a deep sigh and shook his head
“This is terrible, so no one knows where the princess is?
How can there be a burial with no successor?
And who are these ghommids?
What do they want with the scepter and what are our plans against an invasion?”
Ade-ajaoye shook his head, “I cannot truthfully answer any of your questions. I am guided by Orunmila and he has revealed to me five special boys. What emerges after that is not for me to decide.”
“Ade-ajaoye, if what you say is true then I have no choice but to lend you my son and his services. I trust he would be in good hands.”
“Your son is my son” Ade-ajaoye replied sincerely, “I have only heard about the feats people claim he can perform but I have never seen it, is it true what they say?”
“My son is special as you have said, asides his gifts, he reminds me of myself when I was his age. I was lucky to have survived twenty seasons on this earth. The gods know how many times I flirted with death.”
“And here you are now over seventy full-seasons later and your hands do not grip your sword less tightly” Ade-ajaoye replied, “the same good *Ori that has followed you will forever follow your son”
“ASE!” the chief replied as he accepted the prayer.
“I would like to depart this night if it does not offend your hospitality” Ade-ajaoye continued, “for my journey is far still.”
“That suits me fine for if his mother knows that you have come for her son you will have to attend her funeral before you depart”
“If that be the case I better not announce myself to her but steal away like a thief in the night”
“Orolegun approaches” the chief said and before he finished his sentence the curtains parted and Gbagilabi walked in with a young boy of not more than sixteen full-seasons.
The young man was slender and not much taller than the apprentice.
His face so smooth and perfect it looked like it was chiseled from mahogany by a master-carver.
His hair was woven back and against his scalp but what really drew attention to his face were his eyes, small and narrowed into slits, it seemed more like the eyes of a bird of prey than of a man, giving the young noble a feral appearance.
Orolegun came forward and prostrated before his father.
“You sent for me father.” He asked.
“I believe you know the highpriest?” Fashakin asked and motioned to Ade-ajaoye.
“Yes I do father, I met him once when I was but a child of eight seasons. I escorted you to his coronation, the day he assumed the title. I have never forgotten him since.” With that, Orolegun turned to the highpriest and bowed his head low in deference.
“Your holiness” he said, “I am honored to be in your presence. I have heard so many stories about your adventures that it seems you possibly cannot be mortal. Tell me sire, is it true what they say? That you perform feats of incredible proportions?”
“Its funny that you should ask that” the highpriest laughed, “I just asked that same question about you from your father”
“Truly?” Orolegun looked to his father, the chief nodded, the young noble faced the highpriest.
“Your holiness” he continued, “I am known by many names. Some call me ‘Oloju-Asa’ for I see further than any living mortal. There are also others who call me ‘Aferenle’ the surefooted. All call me ‘Igbolabi’ for I understand the tongues of all beasts that obey the laws of the living earth.”
Ade-ajaoye bowed solemnly, “You are truly gifted young one. The gods have chosen well in all their wisdom. I am Ade-ajaoye. Those who have reason to fear me call me the vengeful cheetah but I am known by all as the highpriest for I am the priest of priests.”
Orolegun put aside his nobleman status and prostrated for the highpriest, “Lead me your holiness and I shall follow.”
“Do not do that” Ade-ajaoye said and assisted him up by his arm.
“When do we leave?” Orolegun asked
“Never… If your mother comes out of her chamber and sees the highpriest here” the chief replied, “Make haste and travel lightly, I will send your entourage after you. Camp and wait for them at the borders of the deep forest, they will be but three turns of the sun behind you”
“We go now” Ade-ajaoye said, “and we part ways at the Orita-meta, the first three way road we encounter for I journey further still to the third province. You shall await me at the palace. Hurry! Time is no friend of ours.”
Orolegun made haste back to his private quarters inside the vast courts.
Along the way he passed the curtained doorway where he knew his mother lay within and hesitated at the entrance.
Every part of him wanted to enter and bid her goodbye but he knew she could never understand.
It would break her heart if he left without saying farewell but if he saw her she would not let him leave no matter what the highpriest said or did.
She as the second wife and had been considered barren by the other wives until she had birthed Orolegun.
Her connection to him bordered on possessiveness and she normally never slept until he came to bid her a good-night.
He strengthened his resolve and walked to his quarters. He should have known better.
She waited for him in his chamber.
“Shhhh!” She placed a finger to her lips and walked to him, “you cannot hide secrets from a woman under her own roof. She might only choose to let you think otherwise.”
“Mother…” he began but her finger left her lips and came to his to silence him.
“Listen to your mother my son” she whispered, “I do not intend to stop you from leaving, I have always known this day would come. Gifts such as yours cannot remain hidden for long for you are above the common man. This is the price you have to pay for being different.”
She took his face in her hands, “my son I grant you all my blessing on this journey. In return for my blessing I ask of you to grant me one promise.”
His eyes narrowed and he tried to pull away, “Mother, what promise do you ask of me that you weigh it alongside your blessing?”
“Orolegun” she hissed insistently and gripped his face tighter.
“Mother” he replied.
Orolegun” she called again.
“Orolegun” she called for the third time.
“Mother” he replied and cast his eyes down in submission
How many times did I call your name?”
“Who is your mother?”
“You are my mother”
“Then make me that promise”
“What promise mother?”
“You converse with all animals that roam the earth, yes?”
“You converse with birds that fly the heavens, yes?”
“That is also true mother”
“Then you promise me, me your mother, that whenever you come across a golden eagle you will make no conversation nor show that you understand its tongue or the tongue of any beast apart from the human tongue.”
“Mother, Golden eagles are a myth, they do not exist, everyone knows that.”
“Then it shall cost you nothing to make me that promise” she insisted
He thought about the highpriest waiting impatiently for him.
“I promise mother” he said and removed her hands gently.
She resisted him and held his face even tighter, “do not offer your promise to me lightly! What I ask is of utmost importance, my child I have given to you all my life and never asked anything in return, apart from this, you might think me disturbed but I am your mother and you shall do as I ask.”
He looked in her eyes and saw raw truth abound there.
“Why do you ask this of me?” He asked.
“One day” her tone softened, “when you arrive from your journey I shall tell you, by then you shall understand, you are not ready to learn the truth now.”
“But mother…” he began
“Now is not the time” she put a finger to his lips, “Go now! Before I change my mind, go while my back is to you.”
She turned her back to him.
He looked at her for a while, unsure of what to make of the situation.
Then he retrieved his special self-crafted bow from its hook and slung a quiver of arrows over his shoulder.
He gave her one last look and departed.
The soft noise of suppressed weeping followed him out into the moonlight...
OLU-OGUN AND OMOLEKE
Making the journey to the third-province did not surprise the Highpriest, even before Orisa Orunmila sent him the vision and chose Olu-ogun as the third boy, Ade-ajaoye was aware of his mysterious gift.
The story started ten and six full-seasons ago when a hunter found a babe wailing in the woods Unclad and caked in dirt but looking well fed and of sound health, for an infant to have survived so long and so deep in the forest surely meant the favor of woodland spirits.
The child was then brought to the city-priests for no one else would have given such a one shelter, he would have been sooner stoned to death had the priests permitted but instead was taken in and named after his mysterious nature, Olu-ogun ‘the silent one’.
The seasons passed and no one came forward to claim the child, fueling the suspicions of the townsfolk as to the actual parents of the mysterious boy.
As a result he was avoided like a leper apart from a handful of compassionate people.
Olu-ogun himself did nothing to help matters for despite several attempts made by the priests to coax him out of his shell he refused to speak well into his eighth season when his mates where already eloquent and running around the streets screaming at the top of their voices while in play he just sat and looked off into space.
At times like that it was like he was somewhere different in some secret faraway place only he had access to and he was well into his eighth season the first time he spoke.
At the arrival of every second moon priests from all over the five provinces were required to make the journey to the central city to have a gathering at the Ifa shrine.
It happened on this day that one of the apprentice priests left behind decided to perform a summoning of a dae’mon unattended.
His name was Ogundoye and he had been driven by greed for material wealth.
The dae’mon he sought to summon was Agbejuwere ‘the reaper’ an entity known for its fondness for precious metals and stones.
Agbejewere was an unyielding dae’mon but if summoned appropriately under the oaths of the ancient and bound with the right commands he would convey the conjurer to one of his numerous hoards of treasure and return him with all that could be carried.
This was possible only if the dae’mon was summoned appropriately but on this morning Ogundoye the apprentice was to learn a crucial lesson about the malevolent nature of dae’mons.
Feigning illness and excusing himself for the day he locked himself in his chambers and performed the rites in secret.
He went about the ritual flawlessly, drawing the protective circle as he had seen his master do numerous times he then applied the warding symbols and burnt the right fragrances to attract the dae’mon.
He stepped into the circle and began to chant the verses from the oaths of the ancients.
When he was finished nothing happened. No telltale signs of the presence of an entity.
There was no manifestation.
No overpowering stench of burning flesh.
No dimming of the morning light into the darkness of shadows.
All he had was an empty room.
The apprentice in his inexperience and haste broke the first rule of the ritual and made his last mistake, stepping from the protection of the circle he fell into the waiting arms of the dae’mon.
Man and dae’mon struggled briefly but the entity quickly prevailed and overcame the conjurer, taking possession of the empty body and lumbering down towards the heart of the temple.
Nine lay dead by its hands before it found the children, the screams intensified as the fiend came into their midst with talons scraping and leaving burns against the walls.
It sought only those with precious adornments crafted from gold or silver for it was partial to such precious metals.
The dae’mon looked upon Olu-ogun and caught sight of the silver necklace hanging from his neck. Slowly, he sauntered towards him.
In the confusion the young boy waited patiently for the dae’mon to approach.
And when it did, he uttered only one word, “BEGONE!”
Agbejuwere the reaper opened its mouth to scream but was not allowed enough time.
There was a bright flash of light and the dae’mon was banished back into the otherworld leaving behind smoldering footprints.
The second time Olu-ogun spoke was two full-seasons after the incidence and it was to Ade-ajaoye the highpriest.
The boy had woken up early one morning and made the five days journey to the central city, Apoti Orisa Nla.
He told no one of his intentions and suffered a great deal of hardship on the journey but such was his determination that he forged on tirelessly.
On entering the city it took him another day to stand before the shrine of Orisa Orunmila, he stole past the guards and snuck around until finally one of the household servants found him wandering the corridors and since she did not know what to make of the silent child she decided to bring him before the curtained entrance.
The highpriest beckoned him in and sat him down.
Ade-ajaoye seeing the child was famished had ordered for a meal to be prepared in great haste.
After the meal Olu-ogun needed no persuasion, the child who had not spoken a full sentence since his third season began to pour out all his troubles to the only one who could understand him.
Olu-ogun had what most spiritualists called the inner-sight, the ability to see the unseen.
The most powerful wielders of magic could only perform this feat for a few moments but it seemed the boy had lived with it for as long as he could remember.
Every time Olu-ogun looked, he saw spirits, lost and troubled souls of dead mortals doomed to walk the earth and wander amongst the living for an eternity.
Sometimes he also saw the dae’mons, spirits and entities from the other realms and they all saw him in return and became aware that he could see them.
This was great problem for every troubled soul wished to commune with a loved one in the land of the physical but because of the barriers put in place by the oaths of the ancients they found it impossible.
As a result they haunted and hounded anybody with the gift of the inner-sight ceaselessly to communicate on their behalf never-minding if it was a child or adult all they sought was their own selfish ends.
Olu-ogun had learnt at an early age that if the spirits knew he could not talk he was mostly left alone.
He had kept silent for ten full-seasons and would have continued to do so indefinitely had he not laid eyes on the highpriest.
He had known Ade-ajaoye was the person to talk to the very first time he laid eyes on him; it was at the yam-harvest festival which was held in the third-province, the city of Ile-Irika-Gbogbo.
The Highpriest walked down the streets with his procession all dressed in ceremonial garbs of immaculate white and together the crowd cheered his progress.
Olu-ogun had been sitting high up in a tree overlooking the roads and his eyes had stayed drawn to the enigmatic manner of the man walking at the head of the column.
All, from the oldest man to the youngest child paid him homage in passing and even the spirits and unseen entities shied away from him as he approached.
This man was a god amongst men.
Knowing what he must do Olu-ogun waited till the end of the rains before setting out to seek audience with the highpriest.
Ade-ajaoye presented him with a brown beaded wristband and instructed him that the beads should always be in contact with his flesh at all times.
He could never remove it.
The beads linked together formed a potent talisman which enabled Olu-ogun to have power over the spirits he saw, bending them to his will within limits.
That was over eight full-seasons ago and now the boy had grown into a young man most would rather appease than confront.
Ade-ajaoye and Gbagilabi arrived at Ile-Irika-Gbogbo at dawn and stopped briefly to announce their visit to chief Aregbesola omo Agbabiaka, after a quick but private conversation they then sought out the central temple.
There they were quickly admitted by the head-priest and shown the way to Olu-ogun, sweeping aside the curtains they found a fine-bodied young man attired all in white standing in the middle of the room, he had rolled his belongings in his sleeping-mat and was waiting somewhat impatiently. “Your holiness” he said after the greetings, “what took you so long?”
Ade-ajaoye smiled warmly at him.
“How did you know I was coming?” he asked, “have you been spying on me?”
“The spirits talk” was his reply, “and always I listen”
With that he shouldered his load and waited for them to lead the way...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by sodeeqsulaimon88(m): 8:43am On Aug 06|
I love this
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by OluwabuqqyYOLO(m): 10:23am On Aug 06|
Lovely! I can't wait for more.
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by skyblueking(m): 12:24pm On Aug 06|
Demosalesman, the badhest writer..
In burna boy's voice "i need more"..
Your work is damn good, flawless and calculative...
More oil to ur brain...
Your keyboard no go seize...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 6:35pm On Aug 06|
I came across this story this morning... And boom I've been glued to my phone..... Great work bro ��
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 7:13pm On Aug 06|
The rains fell in a steady downpour washing away mud from the streets and pavements until the day fell to night and the townsfolk retired into the safety of their compounds and homes.
A figure climbed up the side of the building effortlessly like it had performed the feat a countless times before and had come to know the walls and their hidden crevices intimately.
Attired in dark clothing it blended into the shadows seamlessly making no noise against the creeping-vines and rough walls.
Omoleke Omo Fagbaiye hung by an arm and adjusted his black-leather scabbards before resuming his ascent, reaching the ledge he found a good foothold and launched himself up sailing through the open window in a display of unusual agility
landing lightly he came to a crouch and waited for his senses to adjust to the room, he caught a whiff of the sweet fragrance of the Irosun flower.
Suddenly there was a movement to his right and a body came at him fast crashing into him and sending them both tumbling into a feather-stuffed divan.
His assailant twisted on top of him and pinned him down, both figures paused to listen to the silence and then a pair of soft lips nibbled playfully at his ear.
“I heard you coming this time around” Afolasade whispered into his ear.
“Liar!” he replied softly, “Young woman, I believe you stayed hidden waiting up for me.”
“What difference does it make?” she asked seductively, “I have you here with me, pinned down and helpless, I think I need to take advantage of that. Don’t you?”
“I sure do!” He replied, “Quick! Help me out of these wet clothes”
Hurriedly she removed his attire and hung them to dry and when she turned and approached the divan a flash of lightning streaked the sky illuminating her figure briefly.
He drew breath as he beheld her beauty for she never ceased to take his breath away, her hair was worn in an intricate weave and her voluptuous body filled her wrapper, threatening to burst from the seams.
She came to him and they made vigorous love to the sounds of the storm.
In a city where the two of the highest noble families were in constant dispute the union between the two young lovers had been condemned from the start. Omoleke omo Fagbaiye was the favorite son of the present chief Alaruke omo fagbaiye while Afolasade Ajoke omo Ejiwunmi was the betrothed third daughter of Akinremi omo Ejiwunmi, the head of the noble compound of Ejiwunmi, it was an open-secret that each bore no love for the other.
A hard and bitter rivalry was theirs since childhood, both being first sons of two prominent families and both being in direct line to assume chieftaincy title to the town of Alaruge-Ewejo.
The altercation became worsened when Alaruke in a fit of rage over a petty dispute challenged Akinremi to a wrestling contest knowing his smaller framed rival would be no match for him.
Yet, pride did not allow Akinremi to decline and when they wrestled he was defeated and humiliated before his loyal followers.
He waited patiently for revenge and three full-seasons later wooed and won the heart of Abidemi omo Isomolehin the lovely sweetheart and betrothed of his rival Alaruke.
Short after, he made her his second wife.
There was to be no reconciliation after that with the city splitting into two opposing factions and even though Alaruge eventually became Chief enmity flourished and bordered on open-hatred…
And now both their favored children were in love and yearned to wed each other.
A laughable wish at best for the situation was made more difficult by the fact that Afolasade was the daughter of Abidemi, a woman who had initially betrayed Alaruke’s love and had gone over to his opposition.
The young lovers were forbidden to see each other but as with the nature of youth it only served to fuel their love for one another.
Omoleke then started paying clandestine visits to her private chambers and with time Afolasade took his seed.
Knowing the fate that awaited them if her condition was revealed they had both planned to elope by the end of the wet season, but in a city such as this and with families as powerful as theirs, no secret could remain hidden for long.
Word had gotten to her father through a spiteful stepmother about her late night visitor and on this very night a trap had been baited and was about to be sprung.
Omoleke heard the sound of footfalls in his sleep, soft sounds of sneaking feet telling that someone tried to conceal approach to the curtained entrance, his instincts screamed for him to move and quickly he obeyed.
He woke Afolasade softly, “someone’s coming” he whispered but his lover had been in deep sleep and when she awoke she failed to lower her voice.
“What? Wha…?” she stopped but it was too late.
The footsteps started running all caution now discarded. Suddenly the curtains were swept aside and armed warriors poured in, at their head was Akinyele ‘the terrible’ the eldest brother to Afolasade.
Omoleke moved faster than his thoughts, fluid and supple like a leopard in flight, in one move he was off the divan scooping up his swords and leaping on the window ledge, he looked back at his startled Afolasade and was gone before the next moment leaving his clothes behind.
but his pursuers had awareness of his prowess and had taken every precaution.
Warriors, armed and determined stood on the ground waiting but sheer instinct led Omoleke up towards the rooftop and still more waited him.
Swinging up and ducking he used his body like a battering-ram and shouldered the nearest assailant into his comrades.
The three fell and tumbled down the slippery rooftop.
In a fit of rage Akinyele stood at the window and shouted into the storm.
“I WANT HIM CAPTURED!! A PURSE OF GOLD TO THE MAN WHO BRINGS HIM TO ME ALIVE!”
The chase was on.
Omoleke leapt from the rooftop unto the opposite building knowing his pursuers could never brave such a jump; he then began his flight crouching well into the shadows.
Strapping on his swords he dropped to the next ledge and viewed the streets, Warriors roamed and searched, someone looked up and spotted him.
“ON THE ROOFTOP!” the man shouted and blew hard on his whistle.
The sound cut through the night like the screech of the Ikoti bird and it was quickly echoed by other pursuers as they resumed the manhunt.
Omoleke hissed in frustration and stood looking in all directions for his escape route, he knew no fear for he was the ‘hunting-leopard’ and the leopard could also be as elusive as prey.
He took three steps and leapt from the rooftop soaring through the air and landing nimbly on an adjacent window ledge and in one swift move climbed to the top.
They waited for him, five warriors positioned at the far end with a last one running to join while blowing hard on his whistle, they caught sight of him and smiled knowing a purse of gold split six ways was better than no gold.
The captain stepped forward his foot slipped but he was quickly steadied by his men, Omoleke saw it was time to act and with a battle-cry he charged with his swords appearing in his hands as if by magic.
The captain shrugged away his helpers and with an aggressive cry of his own he unsheathed his sword and met the charge.
The weapons clanged as they cut against each other and he realized too late that it had been a ploy to open-up his guard.
With a cynical laugh and a flourish Omoleke unveiled his second sword and his movements became a continuous blur, by the time he was finished the six warriors lay writhing on the ground like drowning fish and the wet night became punctuated with their screams of pain.
not bothering to announce his exit he skidded to the edge of the roof and leapt off once again.
Roof after roof, the Unclad boy fled searching for an escape but finding none, not even when he dropped to the streets; it seemed his pursuers commanded a whole army and everywhere he turned saw him facing a dead-end.
He ran across the muddy streets and barged his way into the nearest house waking the household, they rushed away screaming profanities at his back as he shouldered his way from room to room seeking a back exit.
He finally came to the last room to found it a dead end.
Standing alone in the dark he thought about his options, to fight or be captured, if he fought he would have to uncover his swords and people would die, Akinremi would have finally had his ultimate revenge watching him hang.
He was lost both ways.
“I am curious as to why you are not wearing any clothes.” The voice came out from the dark; before the thought formed Omoleke had his sword drawn.
He pointed it towards the voice, “who is there? Show yourself!”
The shadows shimmered and parted like curtains revealing a figure sitting on a wooden box in the corner, it was Ade-ajaoye the highpriest and he wore an amused expression.
“Who are you?” Omoleke challenged, his sword point did not waiver.
“I could tell you a few things” the highpriest replied, “but that would be a waste of time. I think getting out of here should be a foremost concern, at the moment you seem to be the most wanted boy in the city, so popular the city guards are falling over themselves to have you in their embrace. Or am I wrong?”
“Embrace indeed” Omoleke sniffed, “I don’t know who you are but…” his eyes narrowed and widened suddenly in recognition.
“The highpriest!” he exclaimed and quickly sheathed his sword.
Whistles sounded over and over as sounds of approaching feet came closer. Omoleke stood in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do.
Ade-ajaoye smiled and shook his head in amusement.
He sighed, “You want out?” he asked.
Moments later soldiers poured into the room and found nothing apart from a wooden box...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 5:06pm On Aug 07|
Ofi made a trip to the stream to fetch water and on his way returning the rains caught up with him.
He cursed under his breath as the muddy pathways squelched under his feet, balanced on his shoulders by the use of a pole were two full water-pouches and he continued the journey half blinded by the downpour.
The way home although of no great distance wound through a thick clump of bushes, a path most believed haunted by the ghost of a mysterious hunter and was not a place for the faint-hearted after the sun had set for the day.
Others took a longer but busier path cutting behind the forest and past the central grazing field.
The rains had darkened the skies prematurely but he was in no mood for the longer route and decided to follow the shorter path, cursing his luck for not heeding the warning signs of the storm.
He had been so determined to get out of his home and be away from everyone.
Why did things have to be so difficult?
It seemed his well of good fortune had surely run dry.
Two days gone by and no one offered him an explanation as to why he was excluded from the rites of passage for no apparent reason.
He at first thought it was the handiwork of his mother and had confronted her, but she denied any involvement.
if to be a warrior of the royal-compound was the calling he chose then she would give her support but her denial did nothing to lighten his mood for he had trained long and hard just to get an opportunity such as this and now he was being denied his chance to prove himself.
What was he doing wrong?
He looked to the heavens for an answer but all he got in return was the rainfall against his face and so he walked on not knowing why he continued to carry his load.
The rain came down so heavily he knew his mother would have arranged her collection of earthenware outside to catch the falling waters but still he continued for it gave him something to do, something to take his mind away from thinking about his misfortunes.
It was at the borders of the haunted forests he came across them, two men and a pack mule walking under the rain towards him.
It was not an unusual sight but going by the manner ill-fated things happened to him lately he gave the approaching figures a second thought, pausing for a moment he thought briefly of turning back but realized he would have to back to the river before negotiating the long route.
It was an option he did not relish and decided to stay on course thinking probably the travelers also misread the sudden rainfall and were paying the price by being drenched; squaring his shoulders he resumed progress.
They came within greeting distance and he observed them boldly, the shorter man was attired in white, smooth-faced and youthful he led the mule and looked straight ahead and appeared unconcerned about being watched.
The second man acted differently in that he scrutinized Ofi openly, their eyes locked for a brief moment and Ofi found he could not hold the gaze, such was the rawness of spirit which poured forth from the stranger’s eyes it seemed they stripped him of his innermost secrets and laid them bare to those aware.
The mysterious traveler wore a neatly sewn coat of white goat-hide with the hood pulled back to reveal his face.
He possessed an ageless face with everything perfect from his eyebrows down to the nose and lips while his gait reminded one of a watchful feline on the hunt. He smiled at Ofi and gave him a short imperceptible nod in greeting but said nothing.
They carried on in opposite directions and Ofi made his way into the thicker bushes, the rain had quickly abated and he was glad he hadn’t disposed of his fetch after all, but still he remained thoughtful, Something hadn’t seemed quite right, he pondered on this even after the strangers had been swallowed by the trail.
What was it that had made him so uncomfortable?
A sudden realization hit him like a blow to the gut and it dawned on him that the two travelers and their mule had stayed dry even though they traveled under the pouring rain.
By the gods! How could that be?
Suddenly there was a strange rumble in his chest, the feeling of angry thunder with no sound, he blinked and was somewhere else…
…It was the same forest but somehow it seemed different.
The grass was dry and the sun sat high in the sky with no inkling of rain whilst the forest-shadows indicated it was past midday.
Ofi looked around in confusion and allowed his load fall to the ground, what in the name of the great gods was happening?
There was a rustle from behind and a sinewy-looking man stepped from the bushes and approached him, under his arm he carried a rolled straw mat, stopping a few paces away he placed the mat at his feet and unrolled it revealing two finely made swords.
Ofi stepped back in alarm.
He picked up a weapon and stood facing the bewildered boy.
“Pick it up” he finally said.
“P…p…pick what up? Ofi stuttered.
“Time is something I have in abundance and which you do not” the man replied, “but I will be kindhearted and say this once. If you want to leave here you have to do as I say.
Pick it up!” he commanded
instead, Ofi turned and fled towards the direction of the river.
He had not completed a third step before he was brought back before the man, he turned and ran again and once again he was brought back.
He stood and his eyes narrowed with suspicion.
“Am I in a dream?” he asked.
“It’s not your place to ask questions. Pick up the sword or I will leave and it might be a handful of season before I return.”
Still confused but not wanting the man to leave Ofi picked up the weapon while keeping a wary eye on the strange man.
“Was that not easy?” the man asked, “Now all you have to do is touch me with the weapon and everything goes back to the way it was. You may perhaps make it back home before someone misses you…”
“… but this makes no sense!” Ofi protested
“If you did not need me I would not be standing before you.”
“Who are you?”
“I am the one to cleanse you of self-pity and weakness. Prove you are a man and I will let you leave, otherwise you stay indefinitely.
“I am no weakling…” Ofi replied defiantly
“…real men speak with action and not wagging tongues.” The man hawked and spat in mocking disgust.
The words bit deeply and with a loud bellow Ofi lunged with his sword, sure beyond doubt of inflicting injury but much was his surprise when his opponent parried and sent him flying away with a foot to the backside.
He lay on his stomach dazed and amazed with a mouthful of grass and bruised shins.
“Is that it?” the man mocked but his tone was grave and sincere, “if that was a show of manliness it is best you declare yourself a woman and be taken as bride by a real man.”
Ofi came at him again sweeping for the feet but the man stepped on the blade disarming him with no effort, shaking his head with a laugh he handed the weapon back.
“Boy! Why do you jest? Come! Come! Let’s get this over with.”
Ofi tried again and again but it seemed his opponent knew his every move before they were made with each failed attempt quickly rewarded with pain and before long he was out of breathe and badly bruised while the man stood unflustered.
Struggling to his feet aided by stubbornness Ofi tried once again but his weapon was brushed aside and this time the punishment worsened as his opponent caught and twisted his arm until it gave.
Ofi let out a scream and fell to the ground, nursing the injured arm he gave his tormentor such a look.
The man dismissed it with a hiss and a mocking laugh, “Feel the pain and let it fuel your anger, let your determination boil and overflow until you have what it takes to reach into the mouth of a roaring lion and claim its heart.” Saying no more, he turned and walked into the bushes.
Ofi sat alone on the mysterious forest-floor with pain as his only company but the pain did nothing to dull his confusion, where was he?
And who was the stranger who fought like a champion and punished him so?
The throbbing from his wounded arm became overwhelming until finally he closed his eyes and gave in to the pain, tiredness and confusion…it felt like he was falling through a dark endless hole.
When he opened his eyes it was early morning telling he had spent the night on the forest-floor. He got to his feet and surveyed his surroundings undecided if to be disappointed everything remained the same.
A quick inspection of his wounded arm revealed it to be miraculously healed leaving him with no pain but with many unanswered questions about his circumstance.
He tried to retrace his steps to the river but always came back to the spot he started out and it happened the same way in every direction he tried until the hopelessness of the situation dawned on him, wherever this place was there was only one way out.
He sat and waited under the shade of an Iroko tree feeling neither hunger nor thirst and he saw no sign of man or beast.
This was not the time for self pity he realized, it seemed he had been fooling no one but himself and all his training had come to naught, the stranger had so eagerly shown him how weak he was.
Dream or no dream he vowed never to be beaten like that again.
He stood up and after a brief search he found a broken branch and fashioned it into a makeshift sword.
He began to practice.
How could he also move like that, so sure and so graceful?
The memory of the pain he endured the day before spurred him and he practiced until the sun sat in the sky signaling the coming of noon and still he felt no pangs for food or water.
When he became tired he stretched out under the shade of the tree and fell asleep almost immediately. He awoke to find the man waiting patiently and by his feet the straw mat; they looked at one another in silence then the man laughed and unrolled the mat, he picked up a sword and handed Ofi the other.
“Show me what you have” he spoke with a taunting tone.
Ofi needed no more urging as his sword lashed out suddenly, his opponent sidestepped and attacked drawing blood.
Ofi staggered back in surprise as blood flowed from his cut but immediately pressed in for the attack, the swords clashed again and again and every time he fell he jumped back to his feet not minding that pain told him otherwise.
They kept at it until he was covered in welts and almost falling from fatigue but sheer determination kept him on his feet. The man knowing the end to be near gave him a cynical smile and began circling him slowly.
“Boy! Your efforts are pitiful at best, at your age I had no enemies for all fell to the edge of my sword as I was sought by kingdoms and named
‘the vanquisher’ after single-handedly hunting down Erele the dae’mon eater of man-flesh and bringing home her head in a sack as a gift for the king.”
“Who are you?” Ofi asked for he had heard such a tale told before in a ballad of origins buried deep in history.
“Why should I tell my name to an undeserving one like you? A boy who still suckles at his mother’s tits deserves to know nothing about the world of real men, you who wallow in self-pity instead of being a man.”
“I am a real man!” Ofi replied with passion.
The man smiled sadly and shook his head. Ofi could not contain his anger at such sincere mockery, with a shout of rage he charged with his sword but his opponent moved with a swiftness that made him weep at the sluggishness of his own efforts.
His sword was sent flying into the bushes and his arm wrestled and held in a vice-like grip and with a violent twist came a snapping of bone, he fell to his knees and defiantly refused to give in to the pain, his tormentor will not be given the joy of witnessing his anguish.
The man spat in contempt and gathered his weapons then entered into the bushes without a backwards glance leaving Ofi alone to deal with his pain.
The injured boy endured for physical pain could not compare to that of his defeat, after attending his wounds he stretched out on a soft patch of grass and waited patiently for morning.
Morning came and made it the second day of his isolation in the strange land, he sat up knowing his arm would have mended over the night, so did the cuts and bruises.
Feeling neither hunger nor thirst he picked up the wooden sword fashioned from the day before and began to practice, today he thought of nothing else but the haughty stranger who judged him so wrongfully and caused him such torment.
The thought of going back home without making right this wrong almost drove him to madness, wherever home lay it could wait.
The day quickly passed into evening and when the strange man emerged from the bushes he met Ofi waiting patiently for him, unrolling the mat he picked up the swords and tossed one to Ofi.
Without much ado they both charged, there was nothing more to be said for the swords spoke for them.
The first clash ended with Ofi parrying a blow and lashing out with his fist catching his opponent square in the jaw.
The man staggered back a few steps and he touched his mouth in disbelief, he hissed and attacked furiously giving Ofi a severe punishment for his audacity.
He landed a heavy blow to the side that dropped Ofi on all fours spluttering and coughing, but the boy quickly struggled to his feet dazed and wobbly.
“Is that all you got?” he spat through bleeding lips.
His opponent smiled and began to circle him slowly.
“Where has all the insolence gone?” he asked, “You do not understand the language of steel, the gift of fluency is given to men and not to boys.”
“I am a man!” Ofi followed his movements.
“You persist in fooling yourself” the mocking stranger spoke sadly and spread his arms to encompass the forest, “just like this forest your manhood is nothing but an illusion and you will never leave because you are hopeless to yourself and everyone around you. Why should I let you go? What would you do? Ile has no perseverance for cowards!”
“I am no coward!” Ofi let his anger rise and focused on his opponent, “And I am going home now!”
The man continued his slow walk around his opponent, “Really?” his voice dripped with mockery as he halted behind Ofi, “You sound so sure, pray tell me how will it happen?”
“You will take me back.” Ofi replied, “You have one chance to take me away from this madness or I shall turn and cut you down! Either way I am leaving this accursed place.
Make your choice old-timer.”
Both figures stood unmoving as if carved from stone and an eerie silence descended on the forest, it was a silence so total he could hear his heart beating against his chest like a talking-drum.
When they both moved their actions became a blur and Ofi knew this moment to be the decider, falling to one knee he spun and slashed out with his sword, his opponent stepped into the cutting arc to parry the blow and with the same action followed through with an attack aiming to disarm the less experienced boy.
Ofi was falling but he skillfully twisted his weapon to reverse the attack making his opponent’s sword sail through the air until it disappeared into the bushes.
When both fighters came to rest Ofi was on his back but the tip of his sword rested unwaveringly on the groin of his challenger.
“It’s your move.” He said. The man looked with a new expression.
“Till we meet again” he replied…
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 5:51pm On Aug 07|
You keep busting my bubbles bro... More ink to your pen
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 9:31pm On Aug 08|
Demosalesman we are waiting for you oooo
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 4:56am On Aug 10|
…Ofi was back under the rain and the stranger was nowhere to be seen.
By his feet the two leather pouches lay emptied of their contents.
He took off for his home running down the path slipping and sliding on the muddy terrain knowing he needed to get far away from the bewitched forest and that his mother would have looked everywhere for him.
He got to his family-compound in record time but stopped short when he saw the mule tethered to the entrance.
He recognized it as belonging to the two mysterious travelers he had earlier encountered on his way from the stream.
He barged into his house.
“OFILAIYEJE!” his mother screamed at him accusingly, “You know better than to come into the house with muddy feet! What has come over you?”
His mother acted like he was not missed for the last two days.
Apart from his sister who slept on a straw mat in the corner the room contained two other people, the mysterious travelers sat comfortably like they had been around for a while with the shorter white-attired one eating from a wooden bowl.
The second man had taken off his cowl and his hair was woven neatly against his scalp, intense eyes scrutinized him silently and when Ofi met his gaze a wordless communication passed between them, he knew who sat before him.
“I saw you in the forest” he spoke in awe of the visitor.
The highpriest nodded once and said nothing.
“Ofi!” his mother continued, “this nice men have been waiting for you before the start of the rain, they came from the royal-compound as messengers from the late king, may Igba-Iwale receive his soul.
It appears you have been chosen to become a warrior after all, it seems you impressed someone influential and you are to be made into a royal guard, today is a happy day indeed for me.”
She began dancing with joy.
What could have been so important that the highpriest of Yorubaland should himself come?
After his encounter in the forest he did not believe a word of the tale.
“Where are your manners?” His mother stopped dancing and turned to him. “Have you greeted? Or thanked them for making such a journey on your behalf?”
Ofi immediately prostrated in greeting and was asked to stand up by Gbagilabi.
“Here let me get you some soup” his mother spoke to the highpriest.
“No thank you. I am not quite hungry” the highpriest replied
“Nonsense! Men are always hungry.
A bowl of hot broth will stop you from getting a chill” she scurried off to dish his soup.
Ofi rolled his eyes in embarrassment.
Arguably the most powerful man in the kingdom sat in her living-room and she fussed over him like a child.
Gbagilabi stifled a laugh and was silenced by a dark look from his master.
She came back shortly and gently placed the bowl before the highpriest.
She stood with her arms on her hips and watched him until he began to drink from the broth.
She turned to her son, “Well? What are you waiting for? Go and pack your belongings, they don’t have all day to wait.”
They set out immediately the rain stopped and traveled well into the night.
Ofi finally found the moment to ask the questions at the tip of his tongue.
“Your holiness” he began, “why am I really being taken to the palace? And what happened to me in the forest today? Or was it three days ago?”
“I wondered how long it would take you to ask those questions.” The highpriest replied.
He stopped and looked around their surroundings, “this looks like a place as good as any to camp for the night.”
Gbagilabi unburdened the pack mule and lit a fire he then collected his bow and set off into the darkness alone in search of game for dinner.
While he was gone Ade-ajaoye sat Ofi down by the campfire and spoke to him at length.
He started from the dream and spoke of the death of the late king and the disappearance of his daughter the princess.
He spoke about the theft of the scepter and about the four special boys he was appointed to lead into the unknown in search of salvation.
Since he was unprepared as a warrior the highpriest with the use of powerful juju had cast a spell to unite Ofi and the spirit of the mightiest warrior who ever walked Ile.
“The mightiest warrior to ever walk the earth?” Ofi asked as he remembered the slender man who had so tormented him.
“Yes” Ade-ajaoye replied, “The legendary hunter of fell creatures.
The nature of the spell is such that until the spirit is satisfied with your prowess he will continue to summon you.”
“By what name was he called?” Ofi asked even though he already knew the answer.
“Adelufemi Oloro he was named.” When Ade-ajaoye replied his question his heart skipped a beat and he wondered how he could cope with all what he had just been told.
Everything seemed so unreal and he was sure he would soon wake up to find that it was all a dream.
It took four days of trekking through the shorter but perilous back roads of the great ravine, Igbemi-Ikoto, to arrive at the boundaries of the central city.
For every night they spent in the bushes Ofi was once more summoned and transported into the spirit realm of his ancestor, Adelufemi Oloro.
He was trapped in the realm for numerous days and nights on end only to be returned on the accomplishment of several seemingly impossible tasks set by his ancestor.
Understanding why he was being put through such rigors but hating the torment and the abundant pain with all his heart he learned fast and by the third night his carriage had changed.
His walk and bearing was that of a fighter. If the highpriest and his apprentice noticed the changes they kept it to themselves.
On the morning the three figures and a pack-mule approached the massive city gates it seemed to Ofi that they had been journeying on the roads for ages.
The guards sighted the highpriest and the city gates opened to receive the weary travelers.
They made straight for the royal-palace and Ade-ajaoye was received by the first warrior chief Kalejaiye who informed him of the present state of affairs in grave tones.
He listened intently for a while then raised his eyebrows, “Are you sure?” he asked Kalejaiye.
“A number of my scouts are yet to report home with more confirmation but the ones who arrived early have given reports of the trail.”
“If what you say is true then we have to begin our defenses as soon as possible but we have to be absolutely sure so we wait till the last scout arrives before a conclusion can be drawn.”
“That could be on the morrow or the day after.”
“We wait no longer than two days” Ade-ajaoye replied, “but I want you to send word to the five provinces and all village heads and let them be made aware in as little time as possible.”
“Even as we speak light-footed messengers are taking the word to the chiefs and villages”
“Good” the highpriest replied, “there is nothing to be done apart from hoping the facts are not as severe as you tell me. Where are the boys?”
“They were separated and put in different quarters along with their entourage. They have taken up much space making my job more difficult with the palace swarming with strange faces.”
“I have no use for their entourage send them away”
“But… the noble ones will have need for...”
The highpriest laid a calming hand on his shoulder, “Send them away and as for the boys I want them all in a room with their belongings, I shall attend to them after I kneel before the Ifa.”
“You want them to share a chamber?” Kalejaiye looked doubtful, “but the palace boasts of many more rooms? And you know word will get to the chiefs about that kind of hospitality”
“There is scarce time for such hospitality” Ade-ajaoye replied, “I need for them to be together. And it starts now. I think of no better way to familiarize them towards each other but as precaution cast a spell of warding. None enters without my knowing, keep an eye on the room at all times.”
The first warrior nodded once, “I hear and obey”
“After which” the highpriest continued, “I want the fastest runners to summon the elders and the eleven priests of the house of gods for a meeting which will be held by evening in the throne room. Abinuwunmi, the Olori is well I can only presume?”
“Yes she is” Kalejaiye replied, “Although I haven’t laid my eyes upon her since the demise of the king. She refuses all male visitors audience but her chambermaids keep me aware of her condition”
“Her grief truly runs deep” Ade-ajaoye turned to leave, “but I need her attendance at this meeting for she needs to know what is being done about her missing daughter. Send word to her through her maids if she fails to attend I might have to go against her wishes and seek her audience.”
The first warrior nodded, “I hear and obey”
“I have more need for rest than for food”, the highpriest continued, “Make sure no one stoops at my threshold before two full turns. I pray to the gods by then the runners would have returned with something tangible for us to foot our decisions.”
With that he swept aside the curtains to his room and entered to observe a short period of rest.
Kalejaiye turned and beckoned to the first-in-arms who stood away at a respectable distance. He approached and was given urgent tones.
“I hear and obey” the first in arms replied after the first warrior concluded his orders and hurried off to do his bidding...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 9:14am On Aug 13|
We are waiting for update ooooo
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 7:07pm On Aug 13|
The five boys stood undecidedly in the empty room and observed each other in silence, their belongings lay by their feet and quality differentiated the nobles.
Ekun was the first to break the silence. “Well? I don’t know about you guys but I need a rest” he unrolled his sleeping mat as he spoke and laid it out in a corner beside the open window.
He lay down and covered his face with his cap, “somebody please wake me should dinner be served.”
“I will take the space by the entrance” Olu-ogun told the others and moved his belongings to the corner, and gradually they all took suitable spots and laid down in silence, each deep in private thought.
After a full turn of the sun Orolegun sat up and sighed deeply, “I am restless and I find waiting a bothersome waste of time.”
Ofi also sat up, “me neither but we were told to await the highpriest.”
“I wonder why we were all put in one room.” Olu-ogun spoke from his corner, “the palace has more than enough rooms to spare.”
“I wonder why my entourage was dismissed” Omoleke asked from his own corner, “I traveled with a keg of the best wine and now it’s on the way back to Ile-Alaruge and I thirst for drink.”
“You are from the fourth province?” Ofi asked, “I am from Oke-Odo but never been to Ile-Alaruge, pray tell me, how is the place like?”
Ekun sat up suddenly and looked at each one of them in turn, “Did I hear someone talk about wine?”
Omoleke laughed, “Yes I was the one but I’m afraid I do not have any to share right now. The little I had has been returned with my entourage.”
He turned to Ofi, “And as for my town there is no one word to describe her beauty for such a city can only be female and you need to witness it before you can believe it whenever you journey there I give you invite to visit as my guest, You might not want to leave after a two-day visit.”
“Ile-Alaruge?”, Ekun joined in, “is a beautiful city but not as beautiful as Ilu-Offa… mind you… Ile-Alaruge has the finest looking maidens in the land and for that I give applaud.”
Omoleke snorted in mock disdain, “Ilu-offa is so small it can be mistaken for a village!”
Olu-Ogun chortled, “I thought Ile-Arika-Gbogbo was the land of finest maidens?” he asked Ekun.
“I’ve been there a couple of times in chase of such false beliefs and I can honestly say the town is filled with old crones” Ekun looked at him in sadness, “I hope you do not hail from yonder?”
Olu-Ogun laughed, “How could you tell?”
“Speaking of maidens” Omoleke continued, “Do you know where I may get a carrier pigeon? My sweetheart is left back at home where her father and brother almost caught me Unclad in her bed; she would be worried about my health.”
“Why should she worry about your health? You got away clean did you not?” asked Ofi.
“She is sister to Akinyele the terrible”
The boys whistled as one for they all knew Akinyele the terrible by reputation.
Ekun shook his head in disbelief, “Akinyele the terrible pursued you and yet you came out unscathed? Truly you are favored by the gods.”
“…but that means the maiden is Afolasade Ajoke omo Ejiwunmi” Orolegun said as the thought struck him.
The boys whistled again for they knew the beauty of Afolasade.
Many a man had been given sleepless nights by the allure of her voluptuous body.
Ekun placed a hand on Omoleke’s shoulder, “…I see” he nodded his understanding, full of attentiveness the boys sat up to listen.
“Really?” Orolegun asked, “pray tell us, what happened?”
“Wait!” Ekun stood up and faced them, “of what use is a good story if it does not get told over a gourd of palm-wine?” *pantomimed
“We are supposed to await the highpriest.” Ofi said, “The first warrior chief gave us explicit orders.”
“Yes” Ekun continued, “But he said nothing about not going to get a drink while we waited. I know a tavern around the corner where our cowries would be much welcomed. We will be back before we are missed.”
“I am not so sure about that.” Olu-ogun said, “Besides I have no cowries to spare for drink.”
“I have a purse of eager cowries so your tab will not be a problem.” Ekun as he looked down from the window, it was a long drop down. “The entrances are being watched this is the surest way down.”
Omoleke stood with him, “It is worth a try for I thirst as a desert land and also seek a messenger I can trust.
Come let us move in haste” he quickly climbed over the ledge and dropped from view, landing easily below he checked to see if he had been spotted and then beckoned for Ekun.
One after the other they scrambled down and quickly stole their way from the palace grounds and into the boisterous city, and soon they came to the inn and occupied a table and by the next turn of the sun they were talking and conversing like old friends.
The nearby city-folk began talking about the five fine-looking boys who conversed openly and spent cowries like royalty, round after round of drinks were ordered as the boys traded childhood stories and flirted with tavern maids who playfully swatted away reaching hands and fluttered eyelids unabashedly in invitation.
It was well into evening before Ade-ajaoye accompanied by Gbagilabi and a band of soldiers followed the trail of talk and found the boys in the tavern, a sudden hush fell on the rowdy inn and as they approached the boys got up unsteadily to their feet and tried unsuccessfully to hold back laughter.
Gradually the tavern emptied of other patrons until the boys were left standing with the highpriest and his apprentice, Ade-ajaoye fixed them with a withering look and shook his head in disgust.
“A meeting of elders commences in half a turn of the sun” he said, looking at them one after the other, none could meet his angry gaze,
“Influential people of the city will be there waiting to see the five special boys who the gods have selected to bring back the queen, and by the good head of my beloved mother they shall behold five sober young men or you shall be made a laughingstock and the quest will come to an end before it begins.”
He turned to Gbagilabi, “make them ready! Feed them a mix of the skin of the slippery *Ipinu surely that will cure them of their drunkenness and laughter and have them seated before the Elders arrive, I have few matters to attend before the meeting commences.”
He gave them another withering stare before departing and leaving them under the care of his apprentice...
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by skyblueking(m): 1:09pm On Aug 14|
Demosalesman you just dey drop update like MG-03 launcher..
Your story is 0ne of the best on this forum...
More update bro!!
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Demosalesman: 3:26pm On Aug 14|
thanks guys. glad you're enjoying it. will update soon.
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 6:12pm On Aug 14|
Aswerugod your updates z always a banger!!!
More ink to your pen
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Sliss: 8:43am On Aug 19|
Why you leave us hanging na
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by Bobosneh: 2:21pm On Aug 19|
amazing right up this is the type of story i like to read it high me.
|Re: Warriors And Gods. 'book 1 Of The Legend Of Ofi.' by skyblueking(m): 6:33pm On Aug 19|
Demosalesman shey na when we lose interest naim you go come update abi?
You won't do the needful, after you'll be blaming the Nigerian government...
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