While the Temporis servers are at their peak, the weapons masters of the Bontarian and Brakmarian militias, Amayiro and Oto Mustam, are in a showdown, but using pens instead of swords. They're liable to do just as much damage, though… See these fighters sometimes hit below the belt, allowing us, by way of slanderous slinging, to revisit the background of these two great cities…


Dear Oto Mustam,

…austere and petty, an adjunct of Sin, arrogant and anaesthetized automaton…
Good day to you!
I greatly appreciated your last missive; somewhat like a father stumbling on a note from his son and discerning all the candor of youth, a sweet naivety tinged with endearing folly. You're how old now? 95? 100? You'll see when you're my age… You'll be at a higher level. If you live that long, of course!
Your letter once again did me a world of good. It reminded me that it's most certainly better to be part of the "White City" than a grim band of fools. And to answer your question about whether I've heard of this Brakmarketeering… no, wait… it was the Brakmarathon, wasn't it… The answer is obviously: NO.
Only because something else appears on my Almanax for the date Descendre 12. I think the event written there is (colon, apostrophe): "the Festival of Gloomy Fools". It involves a popular, low-brow street performance in which poorly souls clad in dark colors, played by Bontarian actors, use grotesque puppets to retrace the insignificant path of a useless village that compares itself to a prodigious nation, hoping to be splashed by a little prestige… but in vain. It's huge in Bonta!
I noticed – somewhat bitterly, I must say – that you questioned my virility, my bravery, and my honor. I'm hardly surprised by such a low blow… But let me ask you: Where were you in 554, when Djaulnow that was an adversary! stormed Bonta? Where were you when this true, great, and epic battle between men took place?

I'll tell you, because I know…

It was Junssidor 554. Ilyzaelle called on us. To me, it would be Bonta's finest counterattack in the conflict with Brakmar. The enemy was great. The odds were against us. I admit I had butterflies in my stomach… It was my first big battle. I was 21 years old, with a wife and little one waiting for me at home, afraid I wouldn't return alive. After a merciless battle, the Prince of the Dark City was dead, having been slain by Leorictus, the Bontarian king, who snatched the dark monarch's crown. A poisoned gift… But that's not the story I want to share with you.
On the battlefield, I crossed swords with an opponent slightly more worthy than the average Brakmarian. He defended himself with something akin to nobility and vehemence. Our duel went on and on. It went on for so long that, eventually, we were the only two soldiers in the vicinity still standing. I wasn't in the best shape, and I didn't have the skill I do now, or else I would have bested him in seconds… But we remained at a stalemate, despite our best efforts. After catching our breath, we resumed the fight, but with words. Somewhat like we're doing now… He was slightly funny, I'll grant him that. I then learned he had a wife and little boy, whom he had promised to return home to.

I told him he should write to them immediately to let them know he had lied, as any good Brakmarian would do. I told him we needed only back away from each other a few steps, then turn around and walk in opposite directions for a hundred or so kametres: He would have a few minutes to write a short note to his family. He agreed to do so on the condition that I did the same.
We agreed that if we crossed paths again afterward, we would finish what we had started: that one of us would kill the other, and the survivor would then reach into the dead man's pocket to collect his letter and have it delivered to his loved ones. And that is what we did. At least, we completed the first part, going our separate ways to write to our respective families. But then I never saw him again…

All I know is that his name was Ixa Mustam.

That's right!

In fact, I already know the answer to the question "Where were you in 554, when Djaul was storming Bonta?"
You were hiding behind your mama's skirt! And I heard it from your own daddy! Ha ha! I bet you didn't see that coming! Say… That makes me wonder… Do you suppose the fact that I kicked your dad's butt when you were little… sort of makes us related? Ugh! Just thinking about that makes me sick…
Despite the sympathy – well, the most trivial interest – I have for you, I must nevertheless admit I was extremely disappointed by something you said in your letter. I quote: "The sappiest hits by Jon Lemon and company are playing on repeat."
First of all, "and company" doesn't come into it. There's only Jon Lemon. Period. Second of all, "sappy" has negative connotations, and therefore shouldn't apply to the artist. I was greatly honored when he dedicated a song to me. He took inspiration from my valor and… from the weight, the fatality I bring to every battle; I don't know if it's destiny, or simply because I'm too skilled in combat, but… I can't die. Despite all the fearsome adversaries I've encountered, despite the vagaries of war and all my companions who've fallen on the battlefield, I cannot die. Keep listening! Here's one part:


I used to be nothing and here I am now,

Protector of Bonta, even at night, I can't seeeem to die.

Go destroy what you will,

The people of Bonta will rebuild up to the sky,

To rebuild it all, I can't seem to die.

We had to wage every war

To be so strooooong today, Bonta waged every war…

Even when they were lousy… And sooooo did I!


I hope those few lines will help you understand.
You and I can tussle as much as you want… but Jon Lemon is sacred!

Weapons Master of the Bontarian Militia

Check back in a few days to see how Oto Mustam responds!

In the meantime, feel free to speak out in favor or against Brakmar, revisit some old Bontarian hits, and enjoy playing on Temporis III!