The Honey Islands - Master and Commander

Marielle stood in the war room of the Castle Bourge, dressed in her military uniform. The stiff white doublet felt especially uncomfortable that day, and she was less than happy to have to stuff herself back into pants. She much preferred the comfort of skirts, but there was little she could do. The Commonwealth army had a uniform, and it would be incredibly improper to not wear hers. She had her black, curly hair tied up into a bun, which was not something that the Tlem did often. They preferred to let their hair hang down loose and free. Still, it was best not to get her hair in her eyes when battle came. She decided to forgo her ceremonial officer's breastplate, if only because it was fairly heavy and tended to make her back ache.

She loomed over a map of Routaille, looking at possible invasion points an enemy could use. For the past two years she and the other command staff of the Commonwealth's military planned for the possibility of hostile invasion. The castle she stood in, Bourge, would be one of the most vital spots for mounting a defence. Located within the Honey Islands, Castle Bourge had stood for a thousand years, developing from a small watch point to the most important fortification in Routaille. There was a sense of profundity to the place that made Marielle slightly uneasy.

She looked up as Marc Chapillion entered, and nodded at him respectfully. "Ah, general," she said. "Glad you got my summons." She sighed through her nose, looking back down at the map. "I hope I didn't make you travel too far."

At this point, her Tlem accent was only barely noticeable, the slightest twinge. She had spent so long fighting amongst native Routais speakers that she had learnt to speak the language almost as though it was a birth language. It was slower than Tlemkhet, and in her opinion not as beautiful but it was a useful language to know, especially when most of the government institutions spoke it. It was strange, however, to switch back into it. The Honey Islands were Tlem territory, and that meant that most of the staff within the castle also spoke Tlemkhet. She had to work through the machinery in her brain lest she fall into using the grammar of her native tongue or forget a word in Routais and be forced to use an equivalent Tlem one.

She gave a small curtsy, as best she could with no skirt, in response to his bow. "You eaten yet?"