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Manufacturer: Splotter Spellen
The Mutapa king struts into the village, followed by a bunch of young warriors herding cattle. "Oondabezitha," he addresses the assembly of kings, "I have brought twelve heads of cattle for the ceremony tonight." The others seem to shrink in stature as he speaks. The star of the king of Mutapa is clearly ascending. They have not brought nearly as much cattle themselves. "Soon, we will all be praying to Obatala," murmurs one of the older Kilwa traders. "The Mutapa will be raising their godless monuments sky-high. Perhaps it is time for us to resort to some magic of our own." Then the sky breaks into a thunder and a torrential rain pours down on the assembly. The men scramble while the plains fill with water. The ceremony will be wet tonight. . .
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