Tally ho, and merriest of days to you, good king Anthony. I am high shaman Jamaal, and I hail to you from the Zulu nation over yonder east of Castle Thyssen.

As I hope you might deign to know, our mighty tribe nests in the Chultan jungle far east to your own such castle, and though I regret that my news to be not as delightful as one might hope, I come to you to inform of a grave danger that threatens us both.

Our rival tribe, tribe Mongeau in the nothern jungles, lead by dread master 'Leopold.' Alas, the 'Leopold' has recently enchanted himself with ancient voodoo magic, enlarging himself to the size of an elephant. Just recently a scouting force of half a dozen Zulu warriors had entrenched themselves in Mongeau territory, before 'Leopold' himself found them, stomping them into the ground with his massive feet, before forever more and henceforth being nothing more than puddles of blood and bones. Tragedy!

How it would be ever so wonderful if you were to consider a mutual alegiance, if either of us to retain a slither of hope in snuffing out the dastardly, feces-flame that is the Mongeau, write to I with all due haste, good Anthony.

We are indestructible, and no matter what happens, we will rise above. We are blood bound, we aim for the sun, the luminous moon takes us high over ground. We're blood bound, collecting the stars, we hold the power that is greater than all!