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[img]http://i.imgur.com/fu7nRSL.png[/img]

[b]Nation's History[/b]
[quote]When speaking about the history of the Esperantist Commune, one would do well to distinguish between the history of the diverse people who inhabit it, the history of the wondrous mechanical metropolis that is at the heart of it, and the history of the commune proper, which is far more recent but no less complex. All three great tales are ultimately bound together by a single thread: human desperation.

The metropolis now known as Esperi was born from a region of the world deformed by decades of alchemical warfare, and its people hailed from all corners of the earth, many of them seeking refuge from war, famine and disease in this legendary sanctuary, isolated from the dark and wild world beyond by the miasma-ladden wastelands surrounding it. It was, in other words, a city of immigrants.

The nations of this region, known to this day as the Moonlands, were all bound by faith, language and folklore for thousands of years, as well as a peculiar fascination for alchemy. These states were constantly warring against one another, locked in an endless struggle for political and cultural supremacy, and as the Industrial Revolution reached their shores, the mass production of alchemical products prompted their equally widespread use in war. So it was that, when a dispute over the royal succession in one of the Moonlandish nations sparked a regionwide war, the world saw its first full-fledged alchemical war, and the indiscriminate use of alchemy against one another soon began to take its toll on their lands.

In a matter of years, the air and water in the cities became so polluted that many among the urban aristocracy abandoned them for the countryside, and the countryside itself saw large expanses of fertile land become desolate wastelands under the scourge of noxious fumes and so-called 'starfire'. Entire cities were covered in miasma and abandoned, or swallowed whole by massive sinkholes, until the situation became intolerable, thus provoking a Moonlandish exodus. Millions of commoners fled their homelands in all directions, while the wealthiest Moonlanders sought refuge in purifying sanctuaries built in relatively isolated areas.

Facing the worst enviromental disaster in the world's history, the government of the most affluent of the remaining nations began the construction of one of the most ambitious engineering projects since the invention of the steam engine: the great mechanical tower of Remény. Built on the edge of the remote Emile peninsula, it was designed to purify the air and water of its surroundings, thus providing a healthy enviroment for its inhabitants to begin their lives anew, safe from the horrifying consequences of their actions.

Originally meant to sustain only a few thousands at most, Remény continued to expand over the decades as more and more refugees flocked to it. Most of them were Moonlanders, fleeing from the fallout of the alchemical wars, but there were also foreigners, escaping from their own war-torn and poverty-ridden homelands. Thus, it ceased to be a mere tower, and became a vertical clockwork metropolis teeming with life. The earth beneath it blessed with an abundance of valuable metals and minerals, Remény's industry thrived grew exponentially over the years, while the rest of the Moonlands neared their complete and final disintegration.

When the last sovereign states in the Moonlands vanished in a final, maniacal act of alchemy-ladden violence, Remény became the sole remaining glimmer of life in an otherwise lifeless region, covered in the ruins and corpses of once prosperous civilizations.

Following years of instability, a military dictatorship took over the tower, supported by the remnants of the Moonlandish nobility and bourgeois. As the tower's population of immigrants grew in the lower levels, attracted to the technological wonder by legends of peace and opportunity, the old aristocracy entrenched itself in the upper levels, where their air was purer and the military concentrated the bulk of its might.

The rule of the military over the city, masked by a symbolic prince and parliament inherited from olden days, transformed Remény into an industrial powerhouse, particularly famous for its exceptional pharmaceutical products and machinery, both necessary to sustain the city and its populations while surrounded by a toxic enviroment. For decades, the city was economically prosperous, and the prestige of its government earned it a place among the most trusted exporters of manufactured goods.

Unfortunately, for all its superficial welfare, life had become politically and socially stagnated underneath the upper levels of the tower, the social hierarchy inherited from its founders perpetuated by the military's strict policies. The aristocracy concentrated most of the benefits of Remény's good fortune, and the dictatorship ensured that the workers and immigrants in the lower levels remained there, unable to disturbe the tranquility above.

In time, however, people with new, foreign ideals reached the lower levels of Remény, and from the middle and upper castes came a plethora of intellectual movements that looked at their little clockwork world with critical eyes. Syndicalists rebelled in the mines, demanding better working conditions, while anarchists distributed literature in the factories, encouraging a great revolution, and several groups of scholars throughout Remény published extensive cultural studies that severely criticised the socioeconomic and political structure in the tower.

When the dictatorship suppressed these first movements, their remnants became radicalised, and what had initially been peaceful movements turned into full-blown revolutionary movements. Officials and magnates were killed in terrorist attacks, barricades arose in all levels of the tower, and the government started to tear itself apart as the military and the parliament berated one another, while hundreds died on the streets and entire levels were closed off. In an attempt to forestall a civil war, the Prince of Remény single-handedly introduced some reforms, and personally led a liberal monarchist movement, supported by the clergy, but staunchly opposed by the military and the republicans in the parliament.

The real turning point in this turbulent period of Remény's history, however, would come with two events: the arrival of a new, huge wave of refugees from several wars taking place on the shores of the Great Southern Ocean, and the emergence of a new movement, led by a Sanfure ophthalmologist and philologist, that revolved around a constructed language called Esperanto. The sudden influx of thousands foreigners was far more than the military could handle, and the Esperantist movement's advocacy for multiculturalism and the inclusion of Esperanto as the official language of Remény turned them into one of the most popular factions in the increasingly volatile political climate.

The long feared political implosion finally occurred five years ago, in the midst of a severe economic crisis, fears of the air purification machinery of the city failing in the lower levels, and a conflict over the succession to the throne of Remény.

Following the death of the childless Prince Valentin IV, several claimants appeared to claim his place, each supported by their own faction. Amongst these candidates, two stood out from the rest: András Lovász, a young colonel, supported by the military and several labour unions; and Lázára Zamenhof, a young student and suspected Esperantist sympathizer, supported by the liberal monarchists and republicans in the parliament. Although both had relatively weak claims to the throne, they were the two most popular choices, and when a special tribunal was set to determine which of them would be made sovereign of Remény, the deliberations constantly derived in prolongued deadlocks.

As the debate stretched on, tensions sparked in all levels, and the situation deteriorated in the areas that had seen the worst of the political violence during the past years. In this state of affairs, left-wing groups saw the opportunity for a final revolution, and the Esperantists began to demonstrate in the cities, demanding a sovereign that would bring an end to ethnic and socioeconomic segregation in Remény.

As rumours spread that Lázára Zamenhof was not just a sympathizer, but rather a prolific author and active participant in the Esperantist movement, with ties to anarchist groups both in her place of study, the University of Szarvas-Virág, and in the industrial areas, a resistance against her potential coronation grew in the upper levels. Elsewhere, however, she quickly became widely popular, thanks to her charisma and the support of many religious figures. Perceived as a modest, compassionate young woman, her sincerity and openness attracted the immigrants and workers, as well as some sectors of the middle class.

When the special tribunal declared Lázára the legitimate heir of Valentin IV by a slim majority, with passionate dissents from the rest of its members, the decision was met with loud protests from the military and the parliament, and violence broke out in many of the lower levels. Both the parliament and the military began a series of investigations with the objective of impeaching the new Princess of Remény, while she was placed under house arrest with her half-brother, Félix Király. These investigations, carried out while whispers of a massive left-wing insurrection spread through the tower, uncovered the full extent of Lázára's relationships with radical political movements. Combined with false evidence of her allegedly collaborating with the armed revolutions in the lower levels, the accusations were enough to have her impeached and stripped of her crown.

The outrage in many sectors was instantaneous. While tens of thousands demonstrated on the streets in her defence, a group of politicians, magnates and preachers occupied the [url=http://static.blogo.it/videojuegoblog/resonance-of-fate-02/big_2132397724_full.jpg]Basilica of Remény[/url] and turned it into Lázára's seat of government. From there, they demanded that she be trialed by a special tribunal, rather than the parliament, while the military grew more and more restless. András Lovász rallied his supporters around the Basilica to demand Lázára's abdication, leading to violent clashes with her supporters.

A special tribunal was convened to review the parliament's decision, much to the military's chagrin, and only three weeks later, they ruled in Lázára's favour and reestablished her as princess.

With all legal resources exhausted, and popular support for András Lovász waning, the military staged a coup two days after the ruling, storming the Basilica and arresting Lázára and her supporters. In the hours that followed, the parliament was dissolved, its members were arrested, and András was crowned prince.

Immediately after news of the coup reached the lower levels, the Esperantists led the largest uprising in Remény's history, aided by the anarchists. Hundreds of thousands laid siege to government and military buildings, barricades were raised, and all elevators leading to the upper levels were destroyed, effectively isolating the different levels of the tower from each other. As the military prepared for their counter-attack, their leaders decided to exile Lázára and Félix to the wastelands beyond the city, warning them that, should they return, their entire families would be executed.

In her exile, Lázára explored the remains of the Moonlandish civilization, lived off what few life there was to be found amongst the cinder, pitch-black lakes and noxious fumes, and encountered the descendants of survivors from the alchemical wars, as well as many who had been exiled from Remény before her. Through these ordeals, and many more, Lázára experienced a profound spiritual revival, part self-realization, part religious epiphany. At first, she meditated in solitude, beside the ruins of the Moonlands, but as she matured, she began to preach to the inhabitants of the land. Her interpretation of Moonlandish mythology and religious doctrine was heavily influenced by her anarchism and Esperantism, and found some adherents among the exiles and refugees that passed through the wastelands.

Two years into her exile, rumours of her sermons reached Remény, dispelling the myth that she had perished at the hands of the miasma, and granting the religious groups who had supported her new strength in their fight against the military. By then, the civil war had claimed the lives of over a million people and destroyed several cities near the tower's base, and the military was laying siege to the middle city of Énekesmadár, the heart of the anarchist movement in Remény. When deserters from the city told Lázára these news, she raised a small army out of her followers, and marched to Remény, not to reclaim her throne, but rather to overthrow the entirety of the tower's political system, including the principality. She renamed herself Ludovika, in honour of the creator of Esperanto, and sent spies ahead of her force to spread the word of her return.

Followed by her few hundred famished refugees and exiles, Ludovika arrived at a half-ruined Remény, the mines and the surrounding areas rendered uninhabitable by the encroaching miasma, and many cities that had once stood high, clinging to the tower's sides, now lied in ruins at the bottom of the great craters below the city. She was greeted in the lower levels with unbridled joy by the militants loyal to her, as well as many among the anarchist partisans, although the more anti-clerical maintained their distance. Three days later, the anarchist partisans, in cooperation with thousands of Esperantists and refugees, successfully led an assault against the military's last bastion in the lower levels, and Ludovika was joined by a vanguard as she ascended to Énekesmadár to break the siege. When the forces loyal to Prince András were driven back to the upper levels, Ludovika tended to the injured and sent the military an ultimatum, demanding that they laid down their arms and, if they did not wish to join the revolution, abandon the tower for all eternity.

After several days of uneasy peace, hostilities resumed as the Esperantists and anarchist laid siege to the upper levels. The military mounted a desperate defence to protect their last bastion, while most of their civilian supporters abandoned the tower by airship. Seeing no hope for victory, Prince András sent Ludovika his abdication behind the military's back. When this was discovered, the military staged a second coup d'état and executed him. The killing of the prince was the last nail in the military's coffin, their last few supporters either deserting or sabotaging them, and by the sixteenth day of the siege, the upper levels fell.

The Esperantist Commune was proclaimed the very next day, on the steps of the Basilica and, in the months that followed, a series of referendums set took place. The tower was renamed Esperi, all goverment institutions were abolished (including the military), Esperanto became the official (although not the only legal) language in the tower, the tower's currency was abolished, and the mines and large industries were expropriated and given over to the workers and their families. Later on, a referendum established a communal constitution based on the principles of individual liberty, free association, mutual aid, consensus democracy, and enviromental protection.

It has been over two years since what was once conceived as a sanctuary for the privileged became the world's first large-scale anarchist community, and much has changed since then.

People are working in the factories and mines once again, only this time it is out of a sense of duty to their community, rather than the obligations of an exploitative system. The universities are swelling with students, able at last to get an education without being constrained by restrictive fees. Moonlandish literature and art are experiencing a veritable Renaissance. The land and sea near Esperi has become inhabitable again, thanks to the efforts by thousands of volunteers. What was destroyed during the civil war is slowly being rebuilt, and missionaries from the Basilica, together with the many volunteers, care for the orphans and the injured that it left behind. 

Ludovika now resides in the Basilica, accompanied by her half-brother, living the life of a spiritual leader. She has more influence than she would prefer, but she is nonetheless happy to serve as the Celestial Ocean's apostle.

The near future looks bright for most of Esperi's inhabitants, but few have given much thought to what may await beyond. While the Revolutionary Syndicalist International and the Northern Federal Republic of Unions may have plans to bring their revolutions to the rest of the world, the Esperantist Commune has no such plans. 

For now, this youthful society is content to look no further than the horizon, and relish what they have already accomplished.[/quote]
[b]Race[/b]
[quote][b]Moonlanders[/b]
To this day, despite of the many waves of mass immigration that Esperi faced over the decades, the Moonlanders continue to represent over half of the tower's population. They are, for the most, part willowy and fair-skinned people with sharp features. Shaped by countless generations of varios degrees of exposure to alchemy, Moonlanders developed a strong resistance to toxins in the air, water and soil. Over the course of Esperi's history, however, they also lost musculature, particularly in the tower's upper levels, rendering their frames and limbs long, but frail-looking. Fair hair is not uncommon among Moonlanders, but light shades of brown, auburn and burgundy are the norm. Eye colours typically range from brown to yellow to green.

Despite the slight Moonlandish majority, Esperi as a whole is a multiracial society, and in recent times miscegenation has become widespread. [/quote]

[b]Form of Government[/b]
[quote]True to its anarchist roots, the Commune is a stateless, classless society, founded on anti-authoritarian and communitarian principles. Although it is not entirely devoid of laws or institutions, it has no official government to speak of. All policy is decided by the people through a consensus democracy, and the enforcement of laws is left in the hands of volunteers who are granted temporary authority by their community. Such is the norm for most other services once provided by the state or by private enterprises: volunteers, approved of by their community, using the community's resources.

Unions, religious groups and cooperatives make up the majority of what few civilian organizations exist, and by law they cannot have any permanent hierarchies, nor impose limits on their members that would constitute a breach of the principles of the Commune. The same goes for the Commune's military forces, which are mostly comprised of Esperantist and anarchist partisans who fought during the civil war, as well as former members of the principality's military.

The Commune has no official political divisions, but following its establishment some of the smaller communities that comprised it organised themselves into sub-communes of sorts. These are, for the most part, self-regulating and self-sufficient units, although they are never isolated from the rest of the Commune.

With all that said, it cannot be ignored that, when the last remnants of the former principality were abolished, countless people turned to a particular person and a particular institution for guidance. The person was, of course, the spiritual leader of the revolution: Ludovika Zamenhof. The institution, on the other hand, was none other than the Basilica, respected even by secularists for the tireless work done by its missionaries and scholars during the war. In the absence of the former government, it fell to both to provide a modicum of stability to the people, particularly to those who had not fought in the name of anarchism. Because of that, to this day Ludovika and the Basilica continue to have much influence in the decisions taken by the people of the Commune, and are usually the ones tasked with speaking to foreign diplomats who try to contact the tower. Neither of the two has abused this power yet, however, both being committed to the ideals of the Commune, including its secularism.[/quote]

[b]Current Leader(s)[/b]
[quote][hider=Ludovika Zamenhof][img]http://static.klix.ba/media/images/vijesti/140725039.1_mn.jpg[/img]
[i]A photograph of Ludovika Zamenhof, taken on the day of her return to Esperi from her exile. It was hand-coloured later on, and has since then become the best known image of her.[/i]

Born in the aristocratic city of Csillár, far away from the downtrodden masses, to parents of noble blood but modest wealth, Lázára Zamenhof was an only child, doted on by her father and overprotected by her mother. Indeed, the girl had an upbringing that could be considered the least likely to produce an anarchist intellectual and preacher. Growing up, her gentle and pious disposition pleasantly surprised her relatives and made her a promising future heiress in their eyes. They were not as pleased, however, by her close relationship with her half-brother, born from her father's adulterous involvement with a maid.

At the age of fifteen, having displayed an aptitude for science and history, she started attending classes at the University of Csillár, where she studied Medicine for less than a year, before she was convinced by one of her professors to study Anthropology at Szarvas-Virág. The study of human cultures, and the political groups she encountered while in Szarvas-Virág, radically changed Ludovika's worldview. She became a passionate advocate for cultural tolerance, and found kinship amongst the Esperantist students. By the time she was named as one of Valentin IV's potential successors, she had written several teatrises, many of them overtly critical of the principality's treatment of immigrants, and brought together her university's anarchist and Esperantists into a single coordinated group.

At the age of twenty-three, Ludovika Zamenhof is a very different woman from the one she was back then, over five years ago. Today, she is the closest thing the Esperantist Commune has to a leader, albeit a mostly spiritual one. A missionary of the Basilica since her return to Esperi, in public she is modest, compassionate and sincere to a fault, notorious for her poetic way of speaking. Articulate and cultured, her education in Medicine and Anthropology has enabled her to assist in several projects undertaken by the Commune, either through volunteer action or by giving the people her own insight. She is fiercely devoted to her faith, but also respectful, even of her most virulent detractors.

In private, she is not much different, except for one thing: though her soul may belong to the Celestial Ocean and the people of Esperi, her heart belongs to two people.

After a whole life of loyal companionship, Ludovika and Félix have grown love one another as more than half-siblings. This love, unspoken even in the intimacy of the Basilica, is only matched by the love the two of them feel for one man who followed them from the wastelands and into the war-torn Esperi: Adorján Pataki, a journalist who had been exiled from Esperi for the crimes of sodomy and sedition.

The fondness each felt for the other two did not reveal itself as romantic until the night before the siege of the upper levels. That night, as the three awaited the beginning of the final battle against the principality, they discovered underlying flames that had been sparked while in exile, and that their perilous return to the home the had been forced to abandon fueled. This relationship, like most other things in her life, Ludovika acknowledges with modesty and honesty.

The war, and its aftermath, have left their mark on the spiritual leader of the Commune. Even as the tower recovers from it before her very eyes, Ludovika mourns over the horrors that were inflicted upon it because of her, specially when she meets those who lost loved ones fighting in her name. Today, should war loom on the horizon, she would do everything in her power to prevent it, to keep this little world of theirs far away from the brutal world beyond.[/hider][/quote]
[b]Notable Figures[/b]
[quote][hider=Felix Kiraly][img]http://imagizer.imageshack.us/a/img689/1193/94156881.jpg[/img]
[i]A photograph of Félix Király, taken on the day of his return to Esperi from his exile.[/i]

In the upper levels of Esperi, being a noble's bastard was the sort of crime that could earn a newborn the death sentence, even if infanticide was technically illegal. A tarnished reputation was always worth more than the life of a suckling born from irresponsibility. Félix knew this from the moment he was old enough to speak. He knew that, as the illegitimate son of Boldizsár Zamenhof, his whole life he would have to keep his head down, and remain quiet and invisible, as his betters had their feasts, played their games, and intoxicated themselves with wine and opium.

In this regard, Félix's childhood was not, in any way, shape or form, a happy one. His mother might have naïvely named him the way she did in the hopes that her sickly son would grow to have an innocent, carefree heart, but there was no room for innocent, carefree hearts when you were being raised to be a house servant. Félix learned to scrub his father's floors shortly after he learned to speak, and could fold his half-sister's bedsheets long before he could read.

When he did learn to read, however, that's when Félix ceased to be just another servant. Courtesy of his half-sister, his reading lessons opened his eyes to the vast world beyond the windows of Zamenhof Manor. More importantly, however, it opened his eyes to a world where a servant could be powerful, rather than helpless, a force to be reckoned with. As the chip on his shoulder grew in size and bitterness with every cruel jape, every indiscreet glare, and every condescending scoff, so did Félix understanding of everything he heard and saw. He learned how to listen to the darkest secrets without being noticed, and what those secrets meant. He memorized the names and faces of hundreds of people. Then, he memorized the parts of their lives that they kept concealed. And then, finally, he memorized the places where those parts were worth far more than his annual salary.

By the time he came of age, Félix had become his father's informer and his half-sister's confidant, and earned a scholarship for the University of Csillár. There, he studied Mathematics under a pseudonym, and continued to remain close to Ludovika as she neared her own coming of age.

The military's coup, and the civil war that followed, treated Félix most unkindly. Being exiled, and being unable to stop it, triggered the part of him that had always felt inferior to everybody else. The hostile enviroment of the wastelands, on the other hand, took its toll on his already fragile health, leaving him nearly unable to walk for days at a time. Driven to the verge of death more than once, his half-sister's prayers were a much appreciated source of comfort, even if her sudden transformation into a preacher perplexed the more skeptic Félix.

Their chance meeting with Adorján Pataki gave Félix perhaps his first real male friend. Both young men were fond of photography, information and idle chatter by nature, they grew close to one another on their march back to Esperi. 

Over two years after that, the twenty-four-year-old Félix is both different and quite similar to the boy who was exiled from the tower. Overtly cynical, but secretly hopeful; cunning and articulate, yet easily rendered speechless by the two most important people in his life; tender, yet fierce. He does not share his half-sister's faith, but he loves her even more for her devotion. He admires Adorján's passion for the truth, even though he conceals countless secrets.

In the Esperantist Commune, Félix's role is simple yet complex: He is Ludovika's confidant and assistant, the man who watches over her at all times and administers her affairs, and the one she turns to when she needs information, or someone to speak on her behalf. His loyalty is not with the Commune, nor is he an anarchist, but he is unflinchingly loyal to his only real family and lifelong companion, and that is his only motivation.[/hider][hider=Adorjan Pataki][img]http://i.imgur.com/UXS7VCt.png[/img]
[i]Photograph of Adorján Pataki taken by Félix Király during the latter's exile.[/i]

The life of a journalist under the principality was not an easy one. That much Adorján had understood when he told his mentor he wanted to be one. The military did not take kindly to those who uncovered the secrets of the tower, and the people of the upper levels could do without their secrets being known by the masses below.

Adorján simply had not cared. He had always been insatiably curious, and eager to tell others the things he discovered, so why not do it for money? Life was short anyway, specially if you were born in the lowest of the low levels, where sunlight was a comodity for those few lucky bastards who could afford to live at the top of the highest buildings.

Armed with a notebook, a handful of pencils, and an old, rusty camera he had spent his life-savings on, he snuck his way higher and higher, until he made it to Énekesmadár. There were no small amount of newspapers and magazines in the city, all of them willing to pay a handful of forints for a minor scandal. Of those, there was an over-abundance, most of them involving the military and some business tycoons, and Adorján took full advantage of each and every last one of them, at least so long as he was able to.

As he improved his writing, with report after report about the corruption and exploitation of workers in Énekesmadár, he also began to write columns, struggling yet succeeding in putting his thoughts into coherent strings of sentences. With the columns, came popularity, and with popularity came upset letters from people with a lot of power. To say that Adorján was not frightened by them would have been a lie. To say that he stopped, on the other hand, would have been an even bigger one, and that was his mistake.

His last story, and the one that earned him his exile, involved several high-ranking military officers and their clandestine activities, which included the torture and execution of hundreds of militants and innocents. Accused of sedition and sodomy (both, in hindsight, fair accusations), he was given the option to either be executed or exiled.

His exile lasted a couple of years more than Ludovika and Félix's, and when the three met, he was ready to return home and watch the military burn for its tyranny. That he grew fond of the Princess-In-Exile and the Bastard of Zamenhof would be an understatement. Both he found fascinating and beautiful in their own right, and Ludovika in particular shared Adorján's anarchist leanings.

The photographs that Adorján took upon his return to Esperi, and the chronicles he wrote about his experiences in the final days of the civil war, became one of the most praised works of journalism produced during that time. As Ludovika settled into her role as a missionary, and Félix as her confidant and assistant, Adorján returned to his former life as a journalist, now as one of the countless writers and photographers of the Commune's leading newspaper, the [i]Verda Voĉo[/i].

The thirty-one-year-old Adorján is, above all else, confident. He knows his strengths, he knows his weaknesses, and he conceals nothing. He keeps few secrets, if any, and is committed to his work as one of the voices of the Esperantist Commune, so that its legend is heard throughout the world.[/hider]
[/quote]
[b]Total Population[/b]
[quote]19.277.000 approx.[/quote]
[b]Nation's Location[/b]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/08oG2HL.png[/img]

[b]Nation's Geography[/b]
[quote][img]http://lafortalezadelechuck.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/10/resonance-of-fate-basel.jpg[/img]
[i]A hand-coloured photograph of Esperi taken from an airship.[/i]

The wastelands that once surrounded Esperi have slowly began to regain their old, long-forgotten colour. The Emile peninsula, renamed Maraĵa after the civil war, is a land of grasslands and low hills. The enviromental decay caused by the alchemical warfare destroyed the local fauna and vegetation, forcing the tower to rely on its glasshouses and imported goods to feed its inhabitants. Following the civil war, the area surrounding the tower was restored to fertility and transformed into farmland.

The tower of Esperi itself is, of course, the peninsula's defining feature. Several miles high, enough for the uppermost level to be far above most clowds. At the base of the tower, an ever-expanding hole on the earth leads to the lowermost levels and the mines. The earth beneath the tower is rich in valuable metals and minerals used by the alchemical industry in the past, not the least of them being the rare 'starstone'. The tower's largest machinery is also there, the miles-wide cogs still working perfectly despite the age, keeping the city's air and water safe.

The climate of the peninsula is temperate, and rains are a common, but not dominant feature.[/quote]

[b]Economy[/b]
[quote]When the military still reigned, the tower's economy revolved around mining, machinery and pharmaceutical products. With a culture experienced in chemistry, a home that required constant mechanical maintenance, and an earth rich with ore, it made sense. The profits from those industries were more than enough to pay for the raw materials and manufactured goods that could not be produced locally, or at least not in large enough quantities to feed the ever-growing population.

Under the Esperantist Commune, the desire for profit vanished along with the concept currency, and the principles of mutual aid and free association too precedence. The people needed food, water, housing and electricity, and there were thousands of volunteers eager to provide. While the pharmaceutical and mining industries continued to operate, now entirely in the hands of their workers, production slowly dropped to the levels needed to sustain the tower's population and little more.

The recovery of the long lost farmland surrounding Esperi meant a significant boost in the Commune's food production, but even then it struggles to cover all needs. Several cooperatives have pursued the path of innovation, trying to find new, better methods to grow food, so far with a few successes. The Commune is thus left wondering if it will be forced to trade with foreign powers, or seek the help of other revolutionary societies abroad.

If any economic activities have thrived under the Commune, those are the heavy industry, particularly in the production of airships and railways, and the film industry. In the past two years, truly revolutionary designs for airships and trains, and equally groundbreaking techniques in the creation of cinematic art have found a home in the recovering Esperi.

The material known as 'starstone', which was only found in the Moonlands, is relatively abundant underneath the tower, and to this day Esperi has a monopoly on it. Starstone is a remarkably versatile material, more potent than most fuels, and in the past it was used to produce the famous Moonlandish starfire, one of the world's earliest fragmentation bombs.[/quote]

[b]Technology Overview[/b]
[quote]Moonlandish culture was never a traditionalist one, and even less so when it came to exploiting the gifts of nature to create seemingly magical wonders. Alchemy was not an art first developed by Moonlanders, but it was one that they quickly mastered and never abandoned. All sorts of great potions and poisons were developed by Moonlandish alchemists over the years, as were some of the best explosives and fertilizers.

Of all the things that changed with the advent of the Esperantist Commune, this ancient obsession was not one of them. Even today, countless scientists work in laboratories throughout the tower, trying to develop new medicines, new chemical weapons, new explosives, and new fertilizers. Every day, rumours spread of the latest grand invention that will change the world, and now and then the rumours speak true. Lately, most public efforts have focused on pharmaceutical endeavours. In secret, however, many chemists work with the Commune's military to develop weapons that may keep potential invaders at bay.

Outside of the realm of chemistry, popular opinion has encouraged further innovation in infrastructure and heavy industry, particularly that aimed at improving the efficiency of Esperi's industry, machinery and defenses, to turn it into a truly safe haven for the Commune, at whatever refugees come to it seeking sanctuary. The most ambitious projects yet, in this regard, has been the development of a flotilla of airships and fighters to protect the tower's airspace and transport civilians between the tower's levels without the need for elevators.

As a whole, the Esperantist Commune is technologically up to par with the rest of the world, both in civilian and military terms, but its greatest strength lies in the Moonlanders' peculiar understanding of chemistry.[/quote]

[b]Military Overview[/b]
[quote][b]Population[/b]
1,8%

[b]Army Overview[/b]
The Remény Army was one of the first institutions to be abolished when the Commune was established, and not without good reasons. Its officers and soldiers had been behind the worst atrocities committed during the military's reign, and its structure ran counter to the core principles of the new social and political order.

What the Esperantist Commune has in the army's place is a collection of groups of volunteers, most of them veterans from the civil war, self-trained and armed with the weaponry left behind by the previous regime. The groups vary in size, equipment and methods, but all are equal in their lack of a proper hierarchy. Their tactics and strategies are decided by consensus, and in wartime they divide themselves into smaller groups to make split-second decisions easier to make.

As of today, 303,916 people have chosen the lives of full-time soldiers, the Esperantist People's Front being the largest, at 61,622 members. They are followed by the People's Hope, with 49,794, the Sons of the Moon, with 37,414,311, and the Victorious Corps, with 33,106,156.

Overall, the Commune's standing forces are mostly defensive in nature, and far more experienced in urban warfare than anything else. They tend to favour guerrilla tactics and chemical warfare over grand displays of raw power, and this is reflected in the widespread use of light weaponry and equipment, and the underuse of heavy tanks and artillery.

The only exceptions to this rule are the Fiera and Brava Squadrons, of 4,412 and 2,633 members each, which consist of former members of the principality's armor brigades who defected upon Ludovika's return to the tower. The two groups rely on heavy weapons and tanks, and currently guard Esperi's perimeter.

[b]Navy Overview[/b]
Despite standing right next to the sea, the tower never really had a proper navy. The military preferred airships as their first line of defence, and what few ships they built to guard their territorial waters abandoned them when the civil war turned against them.

Following the establishment of the Commune, some efforts were made to build a navy, with the volunteer group Maraĵa, with 673 members, beginning the construction of two submarines and a corvette. As of today, all three vessels remain unfinished but nearing completion.

[b]Air Force Overview[/b]
The military took much pride in their airships and airplanes, and were always eager to innovate. They employed hundreds of engineers over the decades, and exploited countless workers, to create new, awe-inspiring masterpieces of aerial warfare. By the beginning of the civil war, the Remény Air Force boasted hundreds of fighters and bombers, dozens of airships, and the veritable flying fortress they named [i]Sárkány[/i].

This impressive array of flying wonders was amongst those that suffered the most during the civil war. Torn apart by the coup against Ludovika, the different factions that formed warred against one another over the tower until the end of the war, and the [i]Sárkány[/i] itself sustained countless sieges as the factions fought over it. When the upper levels of the tower finally fell, dozens of squadrons and airships had fallen, and a few others had abandoned the tower along with the Remény Navy.

Today, a plethora of groups, all in all comprising 42,397 people, work tirelessly to restore this fleet to its former glory and protect the skies above the Commune. The [i]Sárkány[/i], now renamed the [i]Tondra[/i], is manned by the 288 [i]Ĉiela Drakoj[/i], and remains beside the uppermost levels of Esperi, watching over the horizon.[/quote]