I just had the best idea. I'll make a comedy, but it will be severely rooted from Filipino culture, so a google here and there of the stuff I mention will do you good. Or you can ask a Filipino guy! He has to be from the Philippines though. Or you can ask me. I sure hope this won't be lost in translation! Also more comprehension help for you:

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You know? Now you know!

OK, title: "The Legend of Datu Puti"

"Something is coming." Rajah Silver Swan softly whispered to the rest of the council. His eyes were shut with terror. He was quivering with fear and his soul heated the entirety of the tribal dwellings. He was ablaze inside, an inferno was raging within him, his visions were all of an ominous kind. All he could see was the butchering and slaughter of his tribe mates. His mind was drip with blood and despair.

Exhausted, he fell to the floor. The knowledge that the last remaining members of the Yunno tribe were in terrible danger of extinction was too much for any man to bear.

The council was confused at this shocking news. The Yunno tribe were all worried, all of their territory was abuzz with talk of death and sorrow. Only Datu Puti was unfazed by the news. He merely stood calmly in front of the elders, asking questions. His curiosity only increased when his questions were answered.

The elders, desperate about this news of a coming omen, decided that they needed their secret weapon to be extracted from its holding point. This was no easy task though, for their last resort was entrenched deep within the caves of the island of Bayag-Ra. This island was wrought with dangers and only the criminals of the tribe were brought there to meet their doom. No man has come back from it alive, it was a deathtrap, and only the mightiest of the mighty could make it deep enough to reach the lake of the Ku-Pal, and it was simply impossible to reach the eliptical cavern of Pek-Pek.

Determined to defend the lives of his fellow tribe men, and possibly even his country men; Datu Puti hastily accepted this challenge, for his love of his country burned with the white hot intensity of a thousand suns. "A threat to the country is a threat to Datu Puti", that's what he'd always say.

And so, Datu Puti bid farewell to his tribemates, his kisses and pats on the shoulder burning and causing so much inner peace due to everyone's knowledge that he's going to be gone for ever, and that they're all going to die in a raze caused by unknowing foreigners looking for new goods to sell for their own selfish desires.

Datu Puti boarded his canoe at the crack of dawn, with him he brought his trusted spear; carved from the wood of the oldest tree in the Yunno territory, with a spearhead made from the stone that struck the very first leader of the Yunno dead. His spear was the most valuable item he had ever held in his hands, and after years of protecting it from danger, he can finally use it.

Datu Puti also brought two sackcloths of his village renowned vinegar and the grinded and fried skin of the fattest boar of the village for sustenance.

Stroke after stroke, the paddles striking the surface of the water, making ripples and making blemishes on the otherwise pristine and still water. The village was drifting farther and farther away, symbolizing how Datu Puti was inching away from his old life of idly standing by all the time, occasionally hunting but never taking any action, and he was moving towards his new life of constant thrills and spills; symbolized by the island of Bayag-Ra.

Time seemed to take a breather as Datu Puti was paddling, strokes seemed to pile up into an infinite number. The vast sea seemed to have no end in all directions, all that could be made out was the searing shape of the sun and the endless expanse of clouds above.

Datu Puti seemed to drift off into a slumber; his body paddling and paddling while his mind dozed off. Datu Puti thought he would be able to finally get some rest, until his canoe dug itself into the face of the shoreline, making a mark on the pristine beach, with the paddles making two smaller marks. Datu Puti surveyed his surroundings, he found only sand and a cave. Datu Puti thought he was close, but deep inside he knew that he was far away from the end of the road.

Step after step he headed towards the cave. The indoors were dark and cold, with a scent of death filling the air. The holes on its roof provided explorers an eerie blue-green light throughout the entire cave, with it darkening to a pale shade of gray at night. Datu Puti headed forward unopposed, meeting a downward slant leading deeper into the cave, with a small, seemingly artificial tunnel to the right.

Trusting his instincts, Datu Puti decided to enter the seemingly manmade tunnel to his right, and after heading a few feet inside it, he heard a deafening roar akin to that of a middle-aged woman in labor. After stopping dead in his tracks, he traced the sound to the downward slant he encountered a few minutes before.

And then a raging crowd of harpies came from it, crushing anything in their path. Rocks turned to pebbles and pebbles turned into sand, It was a train of destruction, and it was a train Datu Puti luckily dodged. Sweat dripping from his brow and slowling entering the confines of his mouth; letting out a plethora of different types of saltiness in his mouth; Datu Puti needed a break.

He took a few careful steps, and he found a patch of soft soil; perfect to have a brief break on. Datu Puti sat, and started to consume the foods that he brought; the combination of the crisp of the pork rinds and sourness of the vinegar jolted him to a peak level of alertness, alert enough to catch an oncoming dart with his bare hands.

Feeling nourished and ready for the rest of the challenge, Datu Puti stood up, brushing the particles of dirt collecting on the underside of his sackcloth pants.

Suddenly, the soil started giving way and started crumbling; revealing an endless abyss that awaits at the bottom. Datu Puti did not hesitate, as he fell deep enough, he grabbed onto the ledge, and in a burst of energy and focus, brought himself back onto the hard, rough rock surface scarring his feet.

With a chip of luck on his shoulder, Datu Puti Trudged on, further penetrating the cave. Each step he took was more certain than the last, his confidence was high like his spear, and his mind was clear like his vinegar, Datu Puti was in his prime, a very perfect time to do such an impossible task, he told himself in his head; his accented baritone voice echoing in his head over and over, a fruity scent slowly filling the cavities of his nose and an eerie blue glow filling his line of sight.

Datu Puti just reached the Vi-Twa'ar Lake. Skeletons and rotting corpses littered around the cave, all of them posed as if reaching out to the lake, their final wish being a drink from the lake. This lake was highly sought of, for not only could one drop of it nourish a whole tribe for a day, but it augmented everyone's structure to a point where they were at a level far beyond their body's programmed prime. This lake was magical, and it was the only thing that could activate the tribe's secret weapon for battle.

Datu Puti knew the corpses were there for a reason, and it wasn't only because they were all unprepared commoners with no hunting experience, but because they have not drunk the lake's water yet. Swiftly, Datu Puti approached the shore of the lake, crouched down and sipped the tangy sky blue water, energizing him and making him further alert and aware. He felt a jolt of strength surge through his body akin to that of how energy surges down to the ground in a lightning storm.

Making out a faint buzzing and scratching noise, Datu Puti got up, his eyes surveying the surroundings, looking out for any threats, one of which was the legendary hive of Jo'olli-bees, one sting being as poisonous and hazardous as a snake's bite. The buzzing grew louder, and Datu Puti knew that he was to face the Jo'olli-bees.

Datu Puti then readied his spear, his grip hard and sure, he was ready for anything.

Then, 5 bees, each of them the size of an infant appeared. Their fur was that of a blood red, their eyes and stripes being a pale white akin to that of a person drained of all his blood. Datu Puti felt a slight tingle of fear, but then, his heightened reflexes and adrenaline thanks to the Vi-Twa'ar had made him even more of an able combatant, able enough to dispatch all of these foul beasts with ease.

One of them headed for him straight on, with its stinger pointing directly towards him, but Datu Puti did a roll forward, pebbles slightly digging into his skin as his naked back moved across the ground and raised his spear high, out stretching his arms and stabbing the bee right above him, showering him with its insides; as if basking in it's bloody demise. His momentum was piling up, he headed on for the other units.

One was flailing around the air, it coming closer and closer to Datu Puti, it's erratic pattern making it difficult to hit, but Datu Puti did so anyway. And he did the same with the rest of them, their bodies littering the shoreline of the lake, giving it an even bleaker and deadlier atmosphere; the way the blue light reflected onto all these lifeless bodies was ultimately spooky. A chill surged through his body, causing a moment of immense uneasiness.

Datu Puti then took his sack and filled it with the mystic water. Half of his mission was complete.

Meanwhile in the village, chaos and turmoil were filling every space and corner. The villagers were in panic, for the visions of an oncoming foreign onslaught was true. There were battleships coming in from the farthest reaches of the ocean, sightings of gargantuan armored men all bigger than the village's tallest citizen were spotted on the ship, swords so shiny the reflection could be seen from miles away could also be seen on the ship.

In a hut in the village, the final fate of the entire country was being foretold; in his death bed the aged and withered Datu Silver Swan gave the prophecy. His nearly toothless gums were flapping and his thin tuft of white hair was swaying in the breeze, as if giving a signal that the news was to be bad.

Then, Raja Silver Swan opened his mouth for the last time. His raspy voice echoed throughout the hut, his tone was urgent, and so was his news.

"This... this omen...

I feel that it is the start of a new era for us...

I see visions of us being constantly fought over...

War after war on our sacred grounds... all for territory...

I see all kinds of people coming...

All of them bring a fight and a treaty....

I see that after the storm clears...

What's left of our country is worthless...

I see shattered dreams littering the skyline of our once magnificent country...

I fear for our country... I fear for the integrity of our ways...

I fear for the elimination of our culture...

If... Datu Puti fails to return... I am afraid our last stand will only be fruitless...

Farewell... please take my heed..."

And with that, Rajah Silver Swan fell limp in his straw bed. His breathing ceased, and an unnatural coolness spread throughout his body. Rajah Silver Swan, the leader of the Yunno tribe for as long as anyone can remember was dead. The panic in the village ceased for once, but was replaced with an uncertainty that pecks at the very core of everyone's soul.

Everyone huddled in prayer; for it has been three days since Datu Puti left. Each passing day the fear grew stronger and uncertainty went from just looming above everyone to marching around in their head like a small army of Nazis.

Back on the island of Bayag-Ra,