Late one evening a boy was born; hidden away from the patrols of soldiers ordered to kill infant males on sight, he grew. He was drafted into the military where his hunting skills were put to use. His skill in battle was celebrated by his fellow soldiers and he surged through the ranks of the Northern army. Whispers abound regarding his potential as the prophet. The village elders were told by the shahman that the prophet would prove himself first.
As the boy became a man he commanded a powerful army, and after pillaging a small town near the East border of his Southern enemy, he was approached by a woman in the street.
“Sir, you are the one.”
“What ever are you talking about gypsy, go home to your shanty and make love to your husband before his jowels are used as coyote toothpicks.”
“This is why I know you are the one, the prophecy, it has been fulfilled!”
The woman jumped at the man, and years of practice took action. Her head lay dispatched from her body.
“Jesus, sir, are you ok?”
“Yes Paul, I am fine.”