"Mi estas Rosalin." She hesitated before continuing. "Mi estas kapo de Al-Estria."

The teacher cringed slightly as they heard the word kapo. "... Technically correct." They said through the sing-song accent that characterized The Popolo tribes. The two women spoke in the Steppe Tongue. "Kapo has certain... Negative connotations though. Try to use ĉefulo next time. You also forgot La in your sentence, and your pronunciation could use some work. Remember, the vowels are pronounced differently."

"Uh, sorry," Rosalin said looking down. "Most of The Empire's languages wouldn't have put The in that sentence."

"It'd be easier if you thought of your sentences more like that of the Steppe Tongue. Our languages come from the same family of languages, and you speak it quite well."

"Years preparing for the Miracles Games will do that to you. Though, I'm sure you can tell that I lack some of the... words... Many, book... ****!" She shouted the last word in Sinalese.

"Vortprovizo?"

"Yes, Vocabulary."

"For a woman of many languages, you have not progressed very far in the Popolo tongue."

"Ugh! I've been swamped with work since I've got here! Assembling guards, tending to crops, diplomatic meetings, building, ugh so much building, not to mention all the paperwork at the docks. By the time that I have to take another lesson, I already forgot everything that I learned." She rolled up her sleeve and flexed. "I mean look at this!" She pointed to a slight dip in her muscular arm. "See that, that's flab! I ain't had fat on me like that since I was twenty-two, and I spent a month with Yith chocolate makers!"

"Yith? Chocolate?"

"The Yith are a people in Tria. And Chocolate is... It's hard to explain if you haven't had it. But it's a dessert. A sweet if made properly."

The teacher nodded. "Our previous chief loved such meals, he had become..." She extended her arms out from side to side, eliciting a laugh from Rosalin. The teacher picked up a cane ending in a gold inlaid top. "Sounds to me like you're overstressed. Come on, let's go for a walk. Sitting in here and repeating phrases isn't going to do you any good."


The pair went out into the village that made up Al-Estria. Bustling with activity as the Popolo and the colonizers worked together. The teacher took in a deep whiff of the verdant green sea land. "Aaah! The fresh air of the Ivory coast does a woman good, don't you think?"

Rosalin's nose scrunched as she got outside. "I've told you that your trees smell like piss right?"

"Many times!" the teacher laughed.

"Ugh. Not a fan of the sea anyhow! Smells too much like dead fish." She said over the sounds of a house being put up. She stopped at it as she did so. "You see how the roof has a steep slope on the bottom and a gradual slope on the top?"

"Yes."

"Why do the Popolo make their buildings that way? It looks like ****."

"It's called a mansard, It's so that you can have extra room in your attic." The teacher pointed with her cane to the side of the building. "Why do you put smaller windows on the side of the house? It looks like donkey droppings."

"Strong wind comes that way. Sinalese like a breeze in their house, but if they were any larger than they'd be almost guaranteed to break."

With that, The Teacher started walking again. The two passed by, a group of Popolo mages working magic on a well. The mages all waved together from side to side rhythmically as they drew water from below the Earth. As the two made their way across the streets, a spout of water pushed up past the brim, splashing the mages and several large Atlan and Sinalese men holding shovels in their hands. The soggy people let out a yelp followed by a cry of jubilation, the Popolo being confused as the Inadrites extended their hands for a high five.
"Your water mages are remarkably good. We tend to view aquamancy as a matter of healing more than the moving of water in the Empire... And we're just worse at magic." Rosalin almost coughed the last part.

"I've noticed." The Teacher said nonchalantly. "That is fine though. There's more than one way to skin a cat as the saying goes. Though a lot of your citizens have made great headway. You view magic too much as a tool, magic commands you as much as you command magic. Once you break out of this headspace, I'm sure the citizens will be on roughly equal levels at the end of the decade."

"Hmph, I doubt that, but one can only hope. Seeing things less as a tool could do the world a whole lotta good." She passed by a smithery, a Popolo walking with spring in his step, proudly carrying a newly polished iron blade by his side. "Egh! Your swords are too curved!"

"Don't like the smiths following their orders?"

"It's so much more work to make them that way! A straight blade serves better in groups and is better with a shield in hand. The only sword that should be curved is a calvary saber!"

"Hmm," The teacher simply smirked. "You didn't fight on the plains than did you!"

"Forests, and valleys. Mostly."

"Curved swords are better for open battlefields. Though I must admit, your citizens' mastery of iron is something to behold."

"Hmm. I don't think it's anything compared to your people's bowmaking. Leagues beyond that of The Empire."

"Only due to the strong iron, we can add."

"Hmm, Iron isn't as impressive as you think. I've heard people are making some sort of new substance out of iron called Steel. Real miraculous stuff. I've heard that it never rusts and that it-" As Rosalin continued, shouting could be heard as they crossed the corner. Two Sinalese and a Popolo were having a heated argument outside of a restaurant.

"Don't ****ing say dat ****! Alatadriel is da Highest Holy! Da one above all!" One of the Sinalese slurred.
"I'm not saying that she isn't powerful, but there are many gods. We should at the very least acknowledge Dulnori and send some prayers his way. Praying to the god of fortune for fortune makes sense, no?"
"Dul-Who?" The other Sinalese said, genuinely confused in his inebriated state. "Sounds like some fake ass god to me! Like did you know Thorgans used to worship a ****ing tree! You say that I should worship a tree!" The Sinalese man pushed the Popolo man.
"Dulnori is not some fanciful god! The Steppe has great monuments that were built directly by him!" The Popolo pushed the man back

As the noise filtered into the restaurant, one of the servers, a large orcish woman made her way through the doors. "We're gonna have to ask you to leave." She said simply.
"Eh! Why should I take Orcers from an Ord! I heard you people worship wolves or some **** on top of Alatadriel. Dat's here-" The Orc woman tightened her fist as Rosalin approached the two.

"Heresy, you say! Why you must be a renowned priest to be declaring things like that!" Rosalin said, putting an arm around the Sinalese man, flashing him a killer grin.

The other Sinalese man looked at Rosalin unfazed. "Ya don't need to be a priest to know dat ****! Worshipping other gods and **** be wrong."

"Ha! You know Orcs say the same thing about Ka, El, and Al!" She said. Gripping a bit too tightly on the man before letting go. 'Accidentally' shoving him to the ground. "There's an Atlan saying as well. 'you'd have to be an idiot to not share a pint with the Sea Mistress when you're at sea'. It is not a matter of lack of faith. It is a matter of practicality. Pay respects to the other gods, boys."

The Sinalese man, perhaps a bit too drunk to know better looked at his friend on the ground and tried to shove Rosalin. "Don't be messin' with me mate just cause he know better dan yu!"

Rosalin easily dodged out of the way, the other man landing on top of his other friend. "It's this type of thinking that the enemy wants! You should know better than this."
"Ralph, dat's da Khatun, you idiot!"
"Oh... Khatun! Go on easy on us, please!" The other man said rolling over his friend as he got on his knees.

"Do I need to remind you lads of the looming threat! Just look up!" She said pointing to the sun. "Do you know why we fight the sun god? That mightiest of Empires of Axia? It is not for power, or for glory. It is for survival! The Confederacy seeks to destroy our way of life! To purify us, like some twisted perversion of my mother's flame. And if we let that golden light touch us, it will burn us from the inside out. To look to each other and say 'who is the purest here'? Who among us is without sin? Who among us stands above the rest as a beacon? Who among us is better than me! Who is worse! These are the thoughts of the enemy! And I say no to this! The great civilizations of Oerth have not been made by the pure, but by the impure! By those who made mistakes. By men, women, children, and by all the creatures of Oerth, who bled, and sweat, and toiled with each other. Even the gods as high as they may be, toil, and fight, and make mistakes. By these flawed individuals, we have been made, and like them we are flawed. And we need not look towards each other and hold ourselves to standards impossible. We must look to each other and see our diversity, to see how alike and how different we are! And to say we may be different, but none of us are below the other!"
A small round of applause went up, lead by the teacher, but still, the street seemed more annoyed than enthused at this speech. She stooped down to the level of the crouched men. "We respect everyone who doesn't worship Yir here. And I will not tolerate any intolerance towards your fellow man because of their religious beliefs. Get up, get sober. You'll probably realize how dumb you were when you're sober. If you need help to stop drinking, come see me in the morning. I know some people that will be able to help." The two got up, not saying a word, simply stumbling away from Rosalin.

"The speech was good." The teacher said. "I don't think it was necessary to use on just some drunk vagrants though."

"Hmph. Individuals listen better than groups. I try to keep my serious speeches short anyway."

"That was not a very long speech."

"Well, I like to keep 'em even shorter."
A man in iron armor came sprinting down the street. Wildly ringing a bell. "VALRION HAS BEEN SIGHTED!" He shouted down the street. Men and women quickly exiting into the streets, some armoured men trying to maintain the crowd as they directed them to the shelters. Others rushing off to the city walls.

Rosalin caught the man as he sprinted. "Numbers, private!"
The man caught his breath as he snapped a salute. "We only saw the Dread Imperator, mam!"
"Continue your rounds, soldier! You're doing the gods' work!" The man took off down the street.

Rosalin grabbed another soldier who was running off towards the city walls. "Get my bird, ready! I'll meet you at the wall!" She turned towards the teacher. "Get to the civilian shelter, and you will be safe mam! Thank you for accompanying me!"
The teacher bowed. "The pleasure is all mine. Give them the Flame of The Empire!" She saluted the Khatun as she ran off with the others.


Rosalin approached the wall, the many men and women positioned awkwardly on the scaffolding. Her armour stood out among the crowd, her polished iron being colored a dark red. Her head completely covered by her helmet, The iron mask over her face made to resemble an evil spirit in Sinalese folklore. "Stay steady, comrades!" She shouted to the soldiers on the scaffolding as she made her way up, a massive war bow strapped to her back. "The Balistaes have they come in yet!"

"The ship was delayed, mam! Believed to be sunk!"

"Blasted! Work of the Confederacy, no doubt! Ready your bows, comrades! We'll need to do this the old-fashioned way."

"Mam is the Dread Imperator not immortal? What is the point of wasting our resources!"

"Well, it will still hurt the bastard, general! Plus, that's a good thing, we don't want to start a war this early! But we will not let The Confederacy waltz in without a fight! This is a show of force to the purity worshiping bastards! That we will not stand for their false peace! We stand unbowed before their armor! That we defy their swords and shields! Though they offer us concessions, Change will not come from above!" She shouted pointing to the sun. "The tyrants will fear our might! For We live together or die alone! In other words, **** VALRION! **** THE CONFEDERACY!"
"**** THE CONFEDERACY!" The soldiers cried out in a battle roar. Hooping, and hollering as Valrion edged closer.
"Well don't stand around dilly-dallying, comrades! Ready!" She shouted bringing out her own arrows. "AIM!" The tightening of bowstrings filled the air with a familiar twang. "RELEASE!" The volley of arrows was released, raining down on the plain, most of them missing their mark, but plenty of others smacking into the flesh of Valrion. With the force of an Imperial Bastillae though, the arrow of a warrior mage struck through into the arm of Valrion.

"Come on! My mother can shoot an arrow better, and she's dead!"
"Alatadriel isn't dead!"
"My other mother, you idiot! ANOTHER VOLLEY!" more Arrows rained the battlefield, the arrows drawing in closer and closer. "ANOTHER!" The warrior mage's arrows struck into his chest. "ONE MORE!" Rosalin dropped down for this volley as she shouted to open the gates. Shouting to members of her personal platoon to come with her as she leaped onto her battle bird. "I will meet the dread demon, personally on this dread battlefield!" She kicked her bird and dashed bravely off into the battlefield.

Rosalin cautiously stalked around Valrion, careful to be outside of his range as she shouted her demands to the Dread Imperator. "We have no interest in your false peace, Sun Worshipper! If you are true to your word, then you will respect this! If you wish to come to talk diplomatically outside of this then you will come at the first new moon from here. It is through these terms and ONLY through these terms that the people of Al-Estria will be willing to talk to you!"