My House has been built to play host to The Army of Spidermonkeys.
We started small, but with firm intent and a distant goal. We scavenged twigs and boughs, old rope and discarded board. Little by little our house grew.
Tree ferns and epiphytic bromeliads came to join us to give us shade. Wild figs twined about us as if to strangle us, but we tamed them for our food. Flowering orchids took hold in the sheltered branches and thus we had color and scent. Breadfruit and bananas grow close by for our continued nourishment.
Our house has become a home. Our home has become a castle.
Those mud-walkers of the other clans grow jealous and would invade our treetop home, but we laugh with scorn and rain down missiles upon them. They cannot climb as we climb, cannot dance as we dance, for they are clumsy and unsure of foot.
Warriors came from afar, attracted by rumors and tales of mighty deeds. Thus our skills have been enhanced and honed to a fine edge.
Urchin children came from their empty streets, attracted by warmth and laughter. Thus our numbers have grown and and our empathy have blossomed.
Lovers have come from their empty beds, looking for soulmates and passion. Thus our family has become mighty and caring.
Sages, philosophers and prophets have stopped by on their pilgrimages. They have stayed and taught patience, instructed wisdom and given good counsel.
Our empire is now growing mighty and vast. Our numbers rattle the treetops at our passing. Yet we are wise and welcoming. We boast communal kitchens such that all may eat and none go hungry. We pride ourselves on our mobile hospitals that can move as the tribes move. We invest in our schools so that all may grow wise as the tribes grow wiser. We seldom attack yet we will defend our kingdom, for we all work and we all fight.
That’s the first rule. We all work. The young all run as messengers. We hold annual games where the swiftest compete for glory. We all do what needs be done. We build, we teach, we cook, we clean. Even the most elderly tend the gardens.
That’s the second rule. We all fight. Adult males take point with shields and long spears. All males and females are trained as archers and with sling. Fleet footed children dance among the fallen, dispatching the badly wounded, retrieving arrows and armor. Our healers tend to the wounded. Those who lack skill or strength keep our supply trains running.