"The Warriors of Greece shall never tire, and shall return our motherland to its proper place as the light of the world, and us to our place as the master race in this time of restlessness and walking death!"rn-Official Peloponnesian Superiority Party propaganda
A bastian of hope in a place of hardened souls. With enemies at one point surounding the entire country, the citizens of Kerrabar stood strong and fought their way to independence and proceeded to expand and push back the dark horde that rose against their small nation.
AutoMedon – A mechanical poet of renown not for his vast catalog of poetry, but for his complete lack of anything written or spoken, having had no output in his programmed profession. His creator is unknown or at least unaccredited, and there are those in great number in the artistic world who wonder and marvel at his inability to produce poetry, crediting that flaw to his creator who is unknown or at least un-credited. There is also a small faction of scholars who believe that when he finally, finally speaks, it will be the most beautiful or sorrowful verse ever spoke or will ever be spoken. Whether his creator is among either group or dead is unknown. AutoMedon sits alone under a tin roofed enclosure, upon a stone chair, with his gaze off in the distant as if thinking.
“It’s strange to look at this mechanical man and think what thoughts are working through its’ workings or even if the damn thing is” – Aralis of Qurim, poet and pottery salesman