The blood of kings awaits spillage by the heart that pumps the blood of gods, fear condemned will be trampled underfoot of war boots that stand upon stars and conquerors who have never known defeat shall inhale the fury and exhale not for the hand of Titan Baseball will around the throat of adversity freeing the ghosts of menacing foes. Bring forth the spawn of earth and sky, the hand that wields the Scythe of Cronos and chokes the life from demons of defeat. Go hard into the dark night bringing the fist of Titan gods to the fight!

 

The voice of the Titan goddess Rhea sent chills of exhilaration down the spine of every last one of the crew of the Titan Baseball Brothership and alone illuminated the Trail of 16 wars. The trail was barren, hard and rocky. All around it was a lifeless abyss so dark it was bitter cold to look into.  Glowing above it was the heavenly embodiment of a maternal figure seated at a throne flanked by two majestic lions. The energy that created lite was culpable as she spoke to the Brothership about the challenges that faced them. More importantly Rhea spoke of the rewards that lie at the end of the Trail if they were victorious in just one of the battles.

 

A chance to compete for another National Championship is where the trail for the victorious would end but the alternative would be far worse than the living hells they were about to experience themselves and far too heinous for the motherly figure to even speak of.

 

“Hades, the devoured son of Cronos has warned you of the fate to those that fail to prevail in one of the trials on the Trail of 16 Wars. What you’re about to witness is the worst atrocities and conflicts of all mankind replayed day in and day out for all of eternity within the depths of hell. You will not be able to alter their outcome or change the course of history for these events have already been judged by the Almighty and damned for the evil they are. You must fight gallantly for the cause that sits right with your soul. If your intentions are righteous and the good in your heart wins the day over the evil it battles, you will be restored to the world you knew.” The voice of Rhea grew even more authoritative as she pronounced further condition. “Although you will all fight together as one, the gods have predestined 16 members of the Titan Baseball Brothership to be personally affected by corresponding atrocities each by a different trial along the Trail. If he chooses evil or is defeated the trial will be ended, the chosen crew member lost for good and the Brothership returned to the Trail in search of the next battle until there are no more.”

 

“Titans, prepare to make your stand!” Rhea exclaimed as she bounded to her feet and the lions that lay dormant at her feet roared and stood crouched ready to pounce and attack. “Let race the blood that gives life to Zeus and Atlas and bring down the fist of the Titan gods. THIS IS WAR!!!!!!!” And with that she instantly disappeared and so did the Trail.

 

Enter The Hangman

 

The smell of evergreens, red cedar and sweet onions filled the air like magical ingredients to a recipe for home as they slipped the noose around his neck. For centuries foreigners had infiltrated the land of his forefathers bringing with them disease and theft. They disguised their genocide in the form of missionaries that preached their god but stole land with dishonesty and prejudice. The white men traded fur and land for tobacco and liquor in order to enslave the people of the land and drive them into prisons they called reservations and when they stood up against them the armies in blue road in on horseback displaying fire power his fellow tribesman could not match with bow and arrow. As per the tribal law, the medicine man that fails to heal but instead causes death must he himself be killed and that is what brought The Brahma two-sport brave to the make shift gallows beneath the shade of a mighty spruce. The act the settlers called a massacre is what touched off a brutal battle that lasted more than 8 years and saw more than its share of atrocities.

 

The act in question was a four-year campaign in the Pomona Valley set upon by the Brahma raiding parties executed upon settlers of the Palomares Conference. For every promise and agreement that was broken the Brahmas paid the settling pioneers a visit and administered justice on both the gridiron and the diamond. For every disease that was disguised as a gift given to a tribe the number 24 with his raiding Brahma delivered a death blow from the mound and from the plate, controlling the field at large. For every criminal act against mother earth the number 24 took the number 14 and his arm to the back field and from the quarterback position he dominated the opposition for three seasons and was named First Team All-league at the Quarterback position.

 

The two time First Team All Hacienda league heart of a brave left a mark upon the land of varsity baseball for three seasons and lore began to follow him, marking the warrior has a wanted man. Fresh faced settlers and the government soldiers that sought to destroy the indigenous people lived in fear of the strike out that had become his trade mark, 59 in total his senior campaign over 50 innings pitched. Over the course of three seasons 29 appearances were made, 23 of them as starter, 2 complete games amassing a 15 and 7 win/loss record with a 106 strikeouts over 123.1 innings pitched.

 

Fear did not fill his heart nor self-pity for what his executioners were about to condemn him to but pride in his tribe. He had become the most sought after savage in the foothill mountains and a bounty was set on the head of the entire tribe if he was not caught or turned in. The hangman turned to the young brave that turned himself in to spare his people from reprisals and asked him to name himself so that justice of the new world should be served. The Brahma warrior turned to the executioner and said “My white man name is Henry but you will call me Omana for before the sun sets on this day and the light of my life is extinguished I will have taken your name, your charge and your life”

 

War had been raging all around them but now the ground began to shake with its violence. A sound so monstrous drowned all mater of life out like thunder from catastrophic storms and explosive volcanos unleashing devastation upon villages below. From the deafening rumble came a unified war cry emanating from a wild band of brothers from atop the ridge ascending down on the execution. Those that had gathered for the execution were outnumbered and out matched so they began to scramble. A barrage of arrows and spears mixed with smatters of gun fire began to rain down upon the gallows. The two Calvary sentries were struck immediately through the heart with the precision of a master archer. The posse that escorted the young brave to the execution site began to take cover and return fire. A volley of ancient weaponry and modern rifle fire filled the air around them like a swarm of pest on a harvest ready crop. Omana stood proud with the noose still around his neck staring into the ranks of the advancing tribe. They were not his tribe for the color of purple and white they wore so proud was replaced with the darkest of blues and an orange that was stolen from the sun. although he was not of this tribe, the faces of the men looked as familiar to him as his own family but he could not understand why, yet pride was all he could feel.

 

The hangman that had been cowering behind a fallen horse jumped back onto the gallows and with a maniacal smirk on his face he informed the brave that he would not be fulfilling his last request and he pulled the latch and the Brahma warrior dropped through the floor swinging with the violent act and hanging from his neck convulsing in spasms. The hangman, knowing he could not escape the advancing war party, smeared blood from a dead soldier all over himself and laid himself down as though he were one of the courageous men to have been killed in the fight. The short rope noose that Henry hung from was designed to incur slow death through strangulation rather than a quick snap of the neck wrought from a long rope noose and thus as the last gasp of life giving breath escaped he watched the hangman and his ploy. 

 

The rope was burning a permanent scar into the soft flesh of his neck and his eyes watered and bulged as though they would explode from their sockets when through the air on the wings of avenging angels came a tomahawk of redemption. The life taking rope that suspended him severed just above his head and down he crashed to the ground tumbling towards the possum playing hangman. He lurched to his feet and removed what was left of the noose from around his neck and pounced on the hangman who had begun to realize he would have to fight. The hangman pulled a knife from his belt and soon the two were in a death roll for all the marbles. The game around them did not matter all the two saw was each other. The fire in the Indian brave was greater than that in the hangman and soon Henry Omana was perched upon his now defenseless foe. He pulled the collar down from around his neck line and revealed the still bleeding scare from the noose and spoke through a harshened voice. “From this day forward I shall be known as The Hangman.” And with that he took the noose that was once around his own neck and placed it around the neck of his would be executioner and choked the life from him. With the knife he liberated from his enemy he carved a ‘K’ on his chest.

 

The execution party lay slaughtered on the ground as the raiding party encircled the young brave now known as The Hangman. The mighty Chief Hooky Monster adorned in a war bonnet of eagle feathers that was inches from the ground when he stood upon the soil, dismounted and approached The Hangman. “You are a mighty brave and you will never fight alone again, today you are a part of the Titan Nation.” After he spoke he presented The Hangman with a Blue and Orange war shirt with the number 34 emblazoned upon it. After embracing the Hangman as one of his own the mighty Titan chief told tale of the war path they were following. A large contingency of Calvary was sweeping the tribal lands herding the native people into prisons they call reservations under Andrew Jackson’s Indian Removal Act, where they infect the people of mother earth with deadly diseases and addictive afflictions. The Titan warriors would combine forces with the Cayuse Nation and meet the Calvary out on the plains of the Nebraska territory.

 

“Will you ride with us Hangman and give those that seek to exterminate us a taste of the noose?” Exclaimed the Hooky Monster.

 

“This is my fate.” Was the retort of young Omana And The Hangman stripped the saddle and bags from the deceased hangman’s horse and filed into formation with the Titan Renegades as they made[kf1]  their way in defense of their home, the valley of the Arboretum.

 

Day 1; The 13^th of Uprising

 

The sun was just rising over the horizon when the renegade band of native raiders began reclamation of ancestral lands. A volunteer army under the command of an imperialist protestant preacher hell bent on bringing fire, brimstone and deadly disease to the indigenous people was relieving the peaceful Peopeo Moxmox of their livestock when they meet the wrath of 35 skilled Titan warriors. A violent conflict ensued but the volunteer army was no match for the skilled warriors that took them by surprise. The Hangman went hard into battle that 13^th of Uprising getting the noose around 7 soldiers and hanging ‘em high over 4.2 innings over 5 appearances that battle.

 

The raiding armies of settlers tried to retreat but the Titan braves remained engaged trapping them with nowhere to run between there advancing war party and the shores of the Cowlitz Black Bear Lake. The Hangman riding like the West Coast League Player of the Week he is led the final charge.  38 men saw the scar around his neck, heard him whisper his name “The Hangman” into their ears and felt the noose around their neck as life slipped away from them over 38 and a 1/3 innings slung. Some grateful but rebellious Palouse tribesman joined the Titan war party as they moved on to join the Cayuse in battle the following day.

 

 Day 2; The 14^th of Perseverance 

 

The two massive armies met out on the open plain, the golden waves grain blowing silently in the wind like an ominous choir of destruction to come. The sheer number alone of the Calvary was enough to make any warrior from any nation turn tail and run but what was really apocalyptic was the amount of fire power they toted to encounter an army of spears and arrows, and yes a Hangman’s noose. Eerily leading the Calvary forward was a peace keeping delegation carrying white flags summonsing dialogue with Tribal Leaders. Chief Hooky Monster accompanied Chief Five Crows and Grey Eagle to the mid-way point, all three believing they were invincible to harm from the white man. Enforcing centuries of distrust up this point the Calvary did not disappoint. With all the fire power at their disposal they opened up a barrage of deadly explosive fire, killing the chiefs immediately. When the Gatlin Gun emerged from the covered wagon the tribal warriors were just trying to regain their feet and take a stand in hand to hand combat. The death rattle of the Gatlin rang out cutting warriors in two, literally. The Hangman was immediately hit in his gut and fever and infection took hold almost immediately. As he laid in the field of grain gazing into the sky making his peace with his spirit blood from his brothers still trying to fight rained down on him and he cried not for himself but for the brothers he loved like family and the inability caused by his wound to stand and fight with them. Trying with all he had to stand and fight The Hangman collapsed and all went black. He spent the rest of the battle unconscious’s and wrought with fever.

 

When The Hangman awoke he was prone on a bed of animal skins with mystical herb smoke burning around him. The poultice that the medicine man had applied to his wound magically broke the fever and the wound was sewn up. The braves that amazingly survived were finally able to retreat from the massacre and were now with reinforcements from the Nez Perce Tribe discussing the next attack. This time they were seeking to invade the U.S. fort of Omaha.

 

Day 3; The 15^th of Redemption

 

This day and this battle will be looked up on by future braves and held in high esteem for the obstacles that were to be encountered and overcome. The Indian warriors came at dawn hard and fierce in order to grasp the balls of the endeavor of an ambitious schedule. The residents of the fort were not expecting the raiding parties to be so bold after what decimation they faced just the day before and as a result suffered the first casualties. The Hangman still weary from his injuries but enraged for what had happened to his brothers in the prior battle leapt from his horse and scaled the wall, attacking the sentry guards atop. Below him on both sides of the fortress wall was chaos and violent Anarchy but he was driven by the need to make a difference for his brothers. He pulled the noose from under his war shirt and appeared 7 times in the face of the enemy hanging 6 over 5 and a 1/3 before a soldier’s beignet caught him in his gut and reopened his wound.

 

Bleeding out badly his life began to once again slip away. He toppled over the rail of the sentry walk falling hard on the compact ground right in front of the fortress gates. Holding his innards back from escaping his wounds he saw one last chance to help his brother enter the fort of Omaha. Without thought for himself he clawed his way up the fortress gate towards the latch that bolted it closed. Half way up on his knees bullets began whizzing by his head. With one hand on the release mechanism several slugs entered his life bleeding torso but did not deter him from his mission and with every ounce of perseverance and determination his heart could muster he released the gate and The Titan warriors rushed the gates and inside the fort of Omaha. The raiding braves had their way with the Calvary on that day for they raided their ammunition, food and whiskey supplies and escaped before the big guns were armed and ready.

 

The Titan band of warriors brought their brave and selfless brother back to camp that night and danced around the fire in loud costumes of animal hide in honor of the bravery displayed by the young Hangman. All were merry and drunk with victory while singing songs of the battles to come tomorrow. The Hangman smiled and prayed the magic poultice would deliver him to another fight while the medicinal herd put him slowly to sleep with a smile upon his face.

 

The Hangman never recovered from his wounds of gallantry, slip sliding away across the night’s sky. He will not be in a Titans uniform next season but will forever be a Titan Brother. The Anarchist wish good upon you brother, see you when the autumn leaves fall Hangman.

 

The remaining Titan Baseball Brothership awoke to the Trail of 16 Wars, all that perished aside from # 34 were now restored and travelers upon the Trail. Shaken and disturbed from what they had just gone through they pushed forward wondering what was up ahead and if another would be lost. Silently they moved on as one……….