They say the sea glitters under the bows of her armada, each ship gilded with towering effigies of pure gold that tell of the vast wealth of her empire. They are coming here. The sunlight banner of Eternal Moyo flutters over each deck. There are no banners below that. No great houses under her. They've all been swept away by her coming. It isn't like these cold, feudal lands. There's no line of ascendancy. There is just Moyo. Tyrant over all.
Her armies are organised and her soldiers are disciplined. A system of stern faced officers keeps everyone in line. But Moyo herself is the source of all fear. Said to be the size of a giant, with the patience of a stork and the rage of a bull, Moyo remains unbeaten by any foe fool enough to come before her.
More than that, she has the hearts of her people. By her hand, their jungle cities have never been so flush with grain and gold. New luxuries flow in from distant corners of the world daily.
And she has their throats. Criminals are sought out and punished without mercy, from lineages noble and common alike. What you might call criminal varies greatly in Moyo's empire of the sun. A thief is dealt as much punishment as a dissident.
Now Eternal Moyo comes here, to feed her ever insatiable empire and the great maw that leads it. Some say she will never die. In a way, she never can. The mark Moyo has left on the world is already too deep to be eroded away by the winds of time and she has only just begun.
Paddy Dobson
10th April 2022