Writings, II - Delladre

Spoken in Hushed Whispers
"Is it a crime to talk about Delladre?" the young master pondered himself, fingers entwined in the ebony tassels dangling from the noble regalia draped upon his nimble frame. Every now and again he'd pluck out golden strands intricately woven into the ebony tunic. Apporaching another with a question of Delladre and the citizenry withdrew into masses of fear and paranoia. "Primius, why will people not speak of Delladre?" He turned to his giant of an escort. Carmine attire adorned his person while a set of upper body plate armoured inspire awe and respect.

"Delladre is a depressing topic, little lord," his response was husky, a voice of aged wisdom yet marred by countless conflicts throughout what seemed to the boy a lifetime of service. "The Realm has brought death and destruction to this land many times over, with little respite to sooth the agonizing masses."

Quizically, the boy responded, "Why don't the people rebel? Why don't they fight against oppression?"

"Not all lands are as fortunate as your's, my lord." The imposing figure took to an upturned piece of debris as his station, parking upon the charred wooden exterior. "You are shown grace and respect through nonoble heritage, the people of this village are wrought with chaos, straddled on the border between the Realm of Delladre and your country, the Republic of Ida.