Fish, fish, fish and more fish.

My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old days, a time of peace when the grappling fisherman kept balance between the fishTribes, fish Kingdom, fish Nation, and humans Nomads.  The fish and the fishermen lived together in harmony until everything changed when the fishes attacked. Only he could stop the ruthless fish. But when the world needed him most, he vanished. A hundred years have passed and the fishes are nearing victory in the War. Two years ago, my father and the men of my tribe journeyed to the fish kingdom to help fight against the fish, leaving me and my brother to look after our tribe. Some people believe that the grappling fisherman was never reborn, and that the cycle is broken. But I haven't lost hope. I still believe that somehow, the grappling fisherman will return to save the world.