obalagbor the community warrior

episode 3 ( The revenge)

3

The Lamentation of Iguadolor

(Tears of the hunter being hunted)

In the village of Iguadolor, shadows cloaked the hearts of its people. Once feared for their fierce warriors and formidable defenses, they now found themselves grappling with the bitter taste of defeat. The warm glow of the setting sun cast long, ominous shadows across their traditional huts, each one echoing the burden of their loss to the village of Obazee.

The air was heavy with murmurs of discontent as the villagers gathered outside the home of their leader, ugunlaba. This stout man, with a long beard and an imposing presence, had once commanded respect and fear. Now, he sat at the center of a circle of disgruntled faces, his forehead creased in worry many of his men were brought down by obalagbor and his men with their spear.

“They fought bravely,” ugunlaba began, his voice booming yet tinged with anguish. “But it was the spirit of their unity that overwhelmed us! Obalagbor and his men are not simply fighters; they embody something deeper—a vision of hope that we failed to extinguish.”

A member of the council, osadolor, spoke up. “You speak of their spirit as if it’s an unassailable force! They are still our enemies. We must find a way to crush their resolve and take back what is rightfully ours!”

“But how?” another villager interjected. “We were outnumbered and outmaneuvered last time. We cannot confront them head-on without a new strategy.”

The Dark Council

Ugunlaba leaned forward, his eyes narrowing with determination. “What we need is a cunning plan—one that plays to our strengths and exploits their weaknesses. Obalagbor may have inspired his people, but we know the land of Obazee better than they do. We have the element of surprise on our side.”

Osadolor nodded, contemplating. “Perhaps we can sow discord among them. If we can fracture their unity, their spirit will diminish, and they will fall back into despair.”

“Exactly,” ugunlaba replied, sensing the shift in energy. “We need to infiltrate their ranks. Capture Obalagbor, and we can break their spirit completely. The heart of their movement lies with him. If we take him out, they will be adrift without leadership.”

A murmur of agreement swept through the crowd, excitement blooming in the faces of the villagers. They were hungry for revenge, eager to reclaim their dignity and territory. As plans solidified, the council continued to strategize under the canopy of evening stars.

The Plan Takes Shape

With determination igniting their spirits, the villagers delved deeper into their plotting. They decided to organize a band of skilled warriors from the remaining survivor among iguadolor local warriors —those who knew the treacherous paths and hidden trails in the forests between their lands and Obazee. This band would serve as scouts, knowing how to navigate the terrain subtly and effectively.

Another council member, osadolor, suggested, “Let us also employ deception. We can spread rumors among the villages nearby, sowing seeds of doubt in the hearts of Obazee’s allies. If the other villages doubt their strength, they may hold back support.”

Ugunlaba smiled, his eyes gleaming with scheming excitement. “And we can employ a tactic to feign weakness ourselves, drawing Obalagbor and some of his warriors into a false sense of security. They might let their guard down, making it easier for us to strike.”

As the council brainstormed, plans began to take shape. Each member shared their talents, whether in combat strategy, psychological warfare, or the art of deception. The atmosphere shifted from despair to a fevered enthusiasm, as the villagers envisioned capturing Obalagbor, disrupting the unity of Obazee, and reclaiming their land because they practically depended on obazee for water and crops to stay strong for over 2 decades.

Setting the Trap

Days passed, but the village of Iguadolor was abuzz with preparations. They forged equipment, sharpened weapons, and trained in secrecy, knowing that the breath of the forest could carry whispers to their enemies.

Under the cover of darkened skies, ugunlaba gathered his warriors, each clad in dark garments that blended seamlessly with the night. A sense of urgency filled the air as they convened just outside their village. The plan was set into motion—a careful ruse, aimed at enticing Obalagbor and his men into a trap.

“Tonight, we will conduct a raid against our own fields,” ugunlaba declared, his voice low but filled with authority. “It will appear that we are vulnerable. Once Obazee catches wind of our plight, they will rush to protect us. We will lead them into the heart of our territory, where our real forces await.”

“Once they are deep within our realm,” osadolor added, a sly smirk creeping upon her lips, “we can spring the trap. We will have the advantage, knowing the lay of the land. We can overwhelm them and capture their precious leader right then and there.”

“As planned, make noise, create chaos,” ugunlaba instructed, “and it will lure them in. But remember, our strength lies in our stealth. We must act decisively—no hesitations. Capture Obalagbor at all costs!”

The Plan Takes Shape

With determination igniting their spirits, the villagers delved deeper into their plotting. They decided to organize a band of skilled warriors from the remaining survivor among iguadolor local warriors —those who knew the treacherous paths and hidden trails in the forests between their lands and Obazee. This band would serve as scouts, knowing how to navigate the terrain subtly and effectively.

Another council member, osadolor, suggested, “Let us also employ deception. We can spread rumors among the villages nearby, sowing seeds of doubt in the hearts of Obazee’s allies. If the other villages doubt their strength, they may hold back support.”

Ugunlaba smiled, his eyes gleaming with scheming excitement. “And we can employ a tactic to feign weakness ourselves, drawing Obalagbor and some of his warriors into a false sense of security. They might let their guard down, making it easier for us to strike.”

As the council brainstormed, plans began to take shape. Each member shared their talents, whether in combat strategy, psychological warfare, or the art of deception. The atmosphere shifted from despair to a fevered enthusiasm, as the villagers envisioned capturing Obalagbor, disrupting the unity of Obazee, and reclaiming their land because they practically depended on obazee for water and crops to stay strong for over 2 decades.

Setting the Trap

Days passed, but the village of Iguadolor was abuzz with preparations. They forged equipment, sharpened weapons, and trained in secrecy, knowing that the breath of the forest could carry whispers to their enemies.

Under the cover of darkened skies, ugunlaba gathered his warriors, each clad in dark garments that blended seamlessly with the night. A sense of urgency filled the air as they convened just outside their village. The plan was set into motion—a careful ruse, aimed at enticing Obalagbor and his men into a trap.

“Tonight, we will conduct a raid against our own fields,” ugunlaba declared, his voice low but filled with authority. “It will appear that we are vulnerable. Once Obazee catches wind of our plight, they will rush to protect us. We will lead them into the heart of our territory, where our real forces await.”

“Once they are deep within our realm,” osadolor added, a sly smirk creeping upon her lips, “we can spring the trap. We will have the advantage, knowing the lay of the land. We can overwhelm them and capture their precious leader right then and there.”

“As planned, make noise, create chaos,” ugunlaba instructed, “and it will lure them in. But remember, our strength lies in our stealth. We must act decisively—no hesitations. Capture Obalagbor at all costs!”

The Raiding Night

That night, as the village of Obazee celebrated their recent victory, the villagers of Iguadolor put their deception into action. Okwudili led a group to the outskirts, lighting fires and creating loud sounds of disturbance that mimicked a raid on their crops. The hosts of Obazee would take thebait, believing Iguadolor to be vulnerable.

The sound of cattle stirring and the clanging of metal echoed through the trees as the warriors clashed their weapons against wooden shields, creating a cacophony that would reach Obazee’s ears.

As planned, word spread rapidly amongst the villagers of Obazee. The cries of distress drew Obalagbor’s attention, igniting his protective instincts for the neighboring village. He rallied his warriors, assembling a small troop to assist them.

“Gather your weapons!” he shouted, adrenaline coursing through his veins. “We must help Iguadolor. They may be struggling against an unseen threat!”

With this awareness, Obalagbor led his men through the thickets and out into the open fields on the border of their lands. What lay ahead was uncertain, but in their minds, they carried the hope of loyalty and support. They could not afford to let their allies fall; their spirits were intertwined. ....