Novel Treatments / Tales of the Ninjauri Book I-Prologue

~Prologue
Almost fifty years, Karkarof thought as he looked out on his forsaken kingdom.
“Do you know what today is?” Karkarof asked his servant Jekyll who stood behind him.
“N-No sir, I can’t say that I do.” Jekyll replied nervously.
“It was almost fifty years ago that my gambit to take over the continent was brought to ruin.” Karkarof said. He could remember the war as though it had just ended yesterday.
He’d come to the continent from the south, bringing with him a formidable army. In no time the Southern Territories were overrun with Karkarof’s servants called Mecites. Half man, half beasts, Mecites were perfect soldiers; they took orders without challenge and were ruthless fighters incapable of feeling emotion or pain. They hungered only for battle. Along with an army of warped creatures, Karkarof brought evil that corrupted the hearts of men. Soldiers turned on their commanders, kingdoms against their kings. The land was in uproar and Karkarof was winning.
Then the Ninjauri appeared. Karkarof had heard whispers of people who could breath fire, make the earth shake, cause the tides to rise, and make a gentle summer’s breeze so strong it could knock over a thousand men and more. Few people knew how to contact them, and even fewer knew where they came from. That didn’t matter to Karkarof. What mattered was the fact that two or three Ninjauri masters could take out an entire battalion of Mecite soldiers. After these people came into play, the tides began to turn.
In an attempt to stop the Ninjauri, Karkarof used his evil to corrupt one of the king’s most loyal generals. This general, under Karkarof’s spell, took a large group of soldiers to the Ninjauri lands. Attacked during a time of great celebration, the Ninjauri did not stand much chance. Though their powers were great, the sheer numbers of the bewitched soldiers was too much. They were slaughtered; by the next afternoon those Ninjauri gathered at the festival had either been killed or escaped to a hidden village. Karkarof thought he’d won.
His genocide had been in vain. The mass murder of their people enraged the surviving Ninjauri and invigorated them to fight on. Slowly his armies were driven back to the southern peninsula. Knowing that killing Karkarof at that time would be difficult and almost surely be a costly victory, several of the most powerful Ninjauri used their powers over the elements and forced rugged mountains to rise up from the flat plain and seal Karkarof and his dark hordes away. To add insult to injury, they placed a curse upon the peninsula; all that was green withered and died, leaving Karkarof a kingdom of stone and death.
“Curse those Ninjauri,” Karkarof spat as he looked down at his Mecite servants, toiling away. “They know as well as I these mountains won’t hold me forever. My dark influences are spread wide.” Karkarof turned to Jekyll.
The hunchback shuddered under his master’s intense black eyes.
“Prepare a messenger; I think it’s time I call in a favor.”

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