Six Thousand Cahayaredupan Heroes went forth to Tropico in the height of summer. Many wielded spears. Some brandished bows. But few, a respected few, carried the Titaha.

It was a tradition borne from the Mato tribe – the unseen, the deadly, and the vicious quick. They wore no armor but their toughened, mottled blue skin. They ate no food but what they found themselves. They worshipped no gods but their own: a god of death and depths and many other fearsome things named Bhayankaratam. Their warrior tradition went back a proud ten thousand years. They boasted conquerors and legends and bloodlust-made-into-manform. From Ajayya the Invincible to Tinma the Monstrous, all of the isles of Cahayaredupa had known the Mato’s notoriety.

Unfortunately, their accents were also absolutely ridiculous. It made communication especially difficult, especially for Burwah, Burwee, and Tornam. Between the accents and the fact that at least two of the three were drunk at any given time… it had been a long voyage.

“Whaddya fink they’re doin’?” said Burwah. He was studying the Titaha Warriors as they prepared on deck.

“Donno,” said Burwee, as he tipped the rumconch to his lips once more only to be disappointed with the conclusion, “blarst it, empty again.”

“Thas what happens when you keep it all tye self,” said Tornam, snatching the conch and throwing it overboard.

“Lads, ‘nuff, I wanta know what they’re doin’.” Burwah repeated, and resumed studying the Titaha.

“A’ight, so they take knife…”

“…ey, what’s that coatin’ they’ve got there.”

“Donno, might be thas some oil of somesuch…”

“Aagaaaagh! Disgustin!”

“Lads, ‘nuff, this is a boilo on my headache already now.” Said Burwah, who had drained his own rumconch an hour earlier. In point of fact, most of the other crew had seen the Titaha Warriors eat breakfast before, but breakfast was something of a foreign concept to the three brave sailors. They had not woken up before dawn since they began their war trip, and the Mato always ate in the night.

“Aaaf, I migh’ just chunder, mates.”

“Ono you don’t! They’re just ‘bouta do sumfin else!”

And they watched on as the Mato prepared themselves some more. They watched as they rubbed themselves in oils to toughen their blue camouflage-colored skin.

“Ay, look-ee here lads, they’re rubbin’ one out on deck!”

“Dun they know thasorta stuff is pro’ibited!”

“Well, lad, best that they’re usin’ some lubricant for the process.”

They watched some more as the Mato prepared their spirits and bodies – contorting themselves every which way and straining their muscles beyond belief.

“O’ay, so they first go into the pose of a shark.”

“Ay, that can’t be too hard, cannae?”

“Well why duncha try it, Master Mato-Better-Than… person”

“Well I would but I dun wanta spill me rum.”

And lastly, they watched as the Warriors prepared their Titaha.

“…They’re just… axes?”

“Nay they ain’, look at ‘em.”

“I… dun see how they aren-“

“Look closer you soaked shit!”

“Oh! OOOOOH! OHHH!”

“Rumhead.”

And they were more than axes, yes. The Titaha had an axehead, true, but it also had a fan of ratcheted spikes on the back like the teeth of a vile sea monster, and a hoop at the end. Its blade was curved to split wood and head, with the spikes to climb up the sides of the hulls of ships from underwater. For that was their the Mato attacked. Their Kraken God had made them into horrors from the deep. They could hold their breath for much longer than any other. They could climb quickly. They could strike from jungle and sea alike.

“Big deal, I’ve got a deadlier weapon in me pants.”

“Oh aye, yeah, you’ve put many a whore to sleep with that tiny thing.”

“Sod it, Burwag. Look at ‘em go.”

The Mato dove over the side of the ship. The battle was upon the Cahayaredupans. While the bulk of their forces, spearmen and archers, would attack from the land, the five hundred Titaha Warriors and 30 ships would attack from the sea.

And the sea would take Tropico, yes. The sea would take Tropico.

I'm attacking Tropico. Let's say 5,000 of my troops are spearmen, 500 are archers, and 500 are the Titaha Warriors (am I allowed unique units?). Let's crush this mofo.