Post by Melisizwe on May 22, 2009 21:51:24 GMT -5
There was once a place called the Pridelands. The savanna grass was always green and the river water always flowed free. The harsh desert to the north was kept at bay by a great rift in the earth, and the creatures that took up residence there rarely ventured south into the lush kingdom ruled by a great King. But evil lurked in such a grand palace, and brave, benevolent Mufasa was slain by his pride-brother, Scar. Young Simba, with the likeness of his father and heir to the throne was exiled by his uncle, never to return upon pain of death. Scar, cruel, cold, calculating, allowed the darkness from the north to encroach into the Pridelands and it became home to a vicious clan of hyenas, willing to bend to brutal Scar's beck and call to reap the bounties of this new, rich landscape.
And reap they did. The lands faded, the grass became dry and the soil barren. Herd beasts fled in the wake of the relentless hyena hunts, and slowly Scar's once precious lands, and his lionesses, began to starve. Mufasa's ghost haunted his dreams, and his realities. Simba, grown and full of vengeance, returned to his homeland and slew his father's murderer without hesitation, without remorse. The rightful heir was again on his lands, and yet there was much to do. The hyena's who stood their ground and fought against Simba were mercilessly slain, and the rest were driven south across the river. When the rains came and swelled the gorges to overflowing, Simba knew the hyenas would not, and could not, return.
But still more was to be done. An uneasy peace settled over the Simba's pride as the rains dragged on, and when Simba and his chosen Queen Nala had their first litter, it only doomed the struggling pride. Zira, a half-starved, crazed lioness that Scar had felt pity for, and who rejected Simba and his cruel murder of the male whose cubs she bore, slaughtered Simba's mother, the aging Sarabi, and his eldest son. For this, Zira and her progeny, Nuka, were banished to the north, across the great gorge of bones. With her went some of the younger lionesses, those who had only known Scar's reign, and the Pridelands was split in two.
Pridelands. Outlands. Never was there such a schism, made only more blatant by the gorge of bones, and while the now swollen river kept the hyenas far at bay to the south, Simba was well aware of the new threat to his lands. He held no sway over the desert and the towering termite mounds where Zira bore Scar's last litter, a male and female. The older Nuka was shunned in favor of the young male, Kovu, who showed great promise and the likeness of his sire that drew Zira to claim him as the next King of all that could be surveyed from the top of Pride Rock. Kovu and his sister Vitani grew quickly, and were driven to harsh training day in and day out. Meager meal pickings went first to the two cubs, and Zira made it clear that any Outlander taking from their future King would be dealt with swiftly, and brutally. The cubs grew well, their physical prowess was unmatched among their kin, but treated as killing machines, Kovu and Vitani knew little of love. Their hearts were cold. And Zira knew.
When he was ready, Zira sent her youngest son deep into Simba's territory, to gain his trust and to kill him. The old King was distrustful, as he should have been, yet cunning as his father before him, Kovu won the trust of Simba's overeager daughter, Kiara. The girl vouched for him, and he was allowed to stay. Then, one early morning as the King rose to begin his patrol, Kovu and Vitani struck as they had planned. The two quickly overwhelmed the King as he bent to quench his thirst at the waterhole, and when the deed was done Vitani rallied the Outlander's south, Kovu at their helm. His take over was swift, but most of all, bloodless. Kovu struck the names of Pridelanders and Outlanders alike, declaring before the great pride that they were called Mnara, and they would flourish.
Kovu was calculating, but not unkind. His lionesses grew to respect him, although those of Simba's closest blood still harbored the ache of that awful day. Scar's heir ruled for three full seasons, watching as the cycle of the rain and the dry ran its course through his lands. He saw many successful litters born, many more raised to fine lionesses. One season, and elder male, Msomeshaji, and his granddaughter, Nipo, arrived and requested asylum from the King. They never quite said why, but Kovu allowed them to stay. Msomeshaji even produced a litter with on of Kovu's lionesses, Ayotunde. As the King's final moment approached, he named his eldest son, Prince Jumaane, heir.
But as the dry again approached, and Kovu's spirit left Mnara with the rains, Jumaane proved to be a weak and pitiful King. He could not make decisions for himself, often defecting to his Queen and lionesses and he could not bring himself to command. He only knew how to obey; Kovu had not trained him well for leadership. In his weak sense of self, Jumaane could not mate with those lionesses that his father gave litters to, and many went barren for a full turn of the season. That dry was wretched, and long. Many hunts were unsuccessful, and many of Kovu's youngest progeny did not survive. The coming of the rains heralded the end of Jumaane's failure.
From across the savanna, from the east, a small band of lions came, and with them came the downfall of the last of the old Prideland blood. Sizwe, his Queen Sauda, brother Emeka, and their small troupe of lionesses Asha, Awita, and Yejide claimed Mnara for their own. Jumaane was driven south across the river, likely slain by hyenas in his escape, and all of his and Kovu's male progeny were eradicated. Sizwe was thorough, and as soon as Mnara's lionesses came into heat he mated with them, allowing Emeka a few of his own in exchange for his brother's assistance in protecting the bountiful land they had claimed. Three seasons of prosperity, three seasons of growing, healthy cubs. Three seasons, until Sauda's untimely death rocked great Sizwe. Solace came to him in his elder years from Kato and Kata, lioness twins he elevated to be his final Queens, giving him each one last, small litter.
Upon Sizwe's death in the turmoil of the most recent rain, a sudden quake shifted the foundation of Pride Rock, and heavy winds and lightning scorched and gouged the peak of the magnificent structure. The stones fell, and the promontory where countless Kings had proclaimed their right to these lands, fell. A few were crushed, a few more maimed beyond healing. The spire rock tilted dangerously, and Mnara's eldest sons, Ikenna and Nnamdi, lead the pride deep into the southern savanna. The two half-brothers declared their joint rule, in honor of their father, Sizwe, and took Queens to their liking.
Now, as the rains subside and the dry once again presses down over the Mnara, food and water grow thin. Both Ikenna and Nnamdi have an important stake in keeping their heavily pregnant lionesses alive and in good health. They have moved the pride closer to the water hole, defending that precious source with all their strength. But Sizwe's son's are learning a lesson that the old Mnara blood would have foreseen. As the river's cutting through the lands recede, Uchawi's hyena's are vying for control of the water and the lands to the north.
And reap they did. The lands faded, the grass became dry and the soil barren. Herd beasts fled in the wake of the relentless hyena hunts, and slowly Scar's once precious lands, and his lionesses, began to starve. Mufasa's ghost haunted his dreams, and his realities. Simba, grown and full of vengeance, returned to his homeland and slew his father's murderer without hesitation, without remorse. The rightful heir was again on his lands, and yet there was much to do. The hyena's who stood their ground and fought against Simba were mercilessly slain, and the rest were driven south across the river. When the rains came and swelled the gorges to overflowing, Simba knew the hyenas would not, and could not, return.
But still more was to be done. An uneasy peace settled over the Simba's pride as the rains dragged on, and when Simba and his chosen Queen Nala had their first litter, it only doomed the struggling pride. Zira, a half-starved, crazed lioness that Scar had felt pity for, and who rejected Simba and his cruel murder of the male whose cubs she bore, slaughtered Simba's mother, the aging Sarabi, and his eldest son. For this, Zira and her progeny, Nuka, were banished to the north, across the great gorge of bones. With her went some of the younger lionesses, those who had only known Scar's reign, and the Pridelands was split in two.
Pridelands. Outlands. Never was there such a schism, made only more blatant by the gorge of bones, and while the now swollen river kept the hyenas far at bay to the south, Simba was well aware of the new threat to his lands. He held no sway over the desert and the towering termite mounds where Zira bore Scar's last litter, a male and female. The older Nuka was shunned in favor of the young male, Kovu, who showed great promise and the likeness of his sire that drew Zira to claim him as the next King of all that could be surveyed from the top of Pride Rock. Kovu and his sister Vitani grew quickly, and were driven to harsh training day in and day out. Meager meal pickings went first to the two cubs, and Zira made it clear that any Outlander taking from their future King would be dealt with swiftly, and brutally. The cubs grew well, their physical prowess was unmatched among their kin, but treated as killing machines, Kovu and Vitani knew little of love. Their hearts were cold. And Zira knew.
When he was ready, Zira sent her youngest son deep into Simba's territory, to gain his trust and to kill him. The old King was distrustful, as he should have been, yet cunning as his father before him, Kovu won the trust of Simba's overeager daughter, Kiara. The girl vouched for him, and he was allowed to stay. Then, one early morning as the King rose to begin his patrol, Kovu and Vitani struck as they had planned. The two quickly overwhelmed the King as he bent to quench his thirst at the waterhole, and when the deed was done Vitani rallied the Outlander's south, Kovu at their helm. His take over was swift, but most of all, bloodless. Kovu struck the names of Pridelanders and Outlanders alike, declaring before the great pride that they were called Mnara, and they would flourish.
Kovu was calculating, but not unkind. His lionesses grew to respect him, although those of Simba's closest blood still harbored the ache of that awful day. Scar's heir ruled for three full seasons, watching as the cycle of the rain and the dry ran its course through his lands. He saw many successful litters born, many more raised to fine lionesses. One season, and elder male, Msomeshaji, and his granddaughter, Nipo, arrived and requested asylum from the King. They never quite said why, but Kovu allowed them to stay. Msomeshaji even produced a litter with on of Kovu's lionesses, Ayotunde. As the King's final moment approached, he named his eldest son, Prince Jumaane, heir.
But as the dry again approached, and Kovu's spirit left Mnara with the rains, Jumaane proved to be a weak and pitiful King. He could not make decisions for himself, often defecting to his Queen and lionesses and he could not bring himself to command. He only knew how to obey; Kovu had not trained him well for leadership. In his weak sense of self, Jumaane could not mate with those lionesses that his father gave litters to, and many went barren for a full turn of the season. That dry was wretched, and long. Many hunts were unsuccessful, and many of Kovu's youngest progeny did not survive. The coming of the rains heralded the end of Jumaane's failure.
From across the savanna, from the east, a small band of lions came, and with them came the downfall of the last of the old Prideland blood. Sizwe, his Queen Sauda, brother Emeka, and their small troupe of lionesses Asha, Awita, and Yejide claimed Mnara for their own. Jumaane was driven south across the river, likely slain by hyenas in his escape, and all of his and Kovu's male progeny were eradicated. Sizwe was thorough, and as soon as Mnara's lionesses came into heat he mated with them, allowing Emeka a few of his own in exchange for his brother's assistance in protecting the bountiful land they had claimed. Three seasons of prosperity, three seasons of growing, healthy cubs. Three seasons, until Sauda's untimely death rocked great Sizwe. Solace came to him in his elder years from Kato and Kata, lioness twins he elevated to be his final Queens, giving him each one last, small litter.
Upon Sizwe's death in the turmoil of the most recent rain, a sudden quake shifted the foundation of Pride Rock, and heavy winds and lightning scorched and gouged the peak of the magnificent structure. The stones fell, and the promontory where countless Kings had proclaimed their right to these lands, fell. A few were crushed, a few more maimed beyond healing. The spire rock tilted dangerously, and Mnara's eldest sons, Ikenna and Nnamdi, lead the pride deep into the southern savanna. The two half-brothers declared their joint rule, in honor of their father, Sizwe, and took Queens to their liking.
Now, as the rains subside and the dry once again presses down over the Mnara, food and water grow thin. Both Ikenna and Nnamdi have an important stake in keeping their heavily pregnant lionesses alive and in good health. They have moved the pride closer to the water hole, defending that precious source with all their strength. But Sizwe's son's are learning a lesson that the old Mnara blood would have foreseen. As the river's cutting through the lands recede, Uchawi's hyena's are vying for control of the water and the lands to the north.