[center][img]http://puu.sh/gHYRO/6def2adf0f.jpg[/img]

[i]He was as the brush fire. Swift and relentless. The Sun's baleful gaze made manifest. His war was the long day before the new season, before the farmers returned to their silted fields to plant a new crop, one baptized in righteously spilt blood.[/i][/center]

[hider=A Seihid Pashrat]
[B]Name:[/B] A Seihid (The Realm), A Seihid Pashrat (The Realm of Austere Clarity), Famarqud (Archaic, Considered Offensive)
[B]Flag/emblem:[/B] [url=http://fc01.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/318/9/b/sun_flag_by_federalrepublic-d5l068p.png]The Bright Auspice[/url]
[B]Demonym:[/B] Seihidi (Common Externally), Hesradin (The Free People; Common Internally)

[hider=Description][img]http://puu.sh/gKBeM/946a2fc9a1.jpg[/img]

[B][u]Description[/u][/B]
Once, not too long ago, the land that is now known as A Seihid Pashrat was the demesne of a cruel Sorcerer-King, one of the last of his kind, a relic of a much more cruel and primal era in which dark ritual and bloody sacrifice was far more common than it had any right to be. His was a line that could be traced back centuries, millenia even, to the arrival of the first humans on the continent, on great, brightly painted ships propelled by legions of malnourished, scurvy-ridden oarslaves. His rule, as that of his predecessor and on and on, appeared absolute and uncontested, it was merely a fact of life in the far south, in that opulent, lapis-lazuli domed city known as Famarqud wherein he held court.

It was a paradise, of sorts, depending on your station in the great Sorcerer-King's political machine. It was a cityscape of diverse extremes, high and low, beautiful and disgusting, virtuous and depraved. So many recall the immaculate monument-lined plazas, the pleasure gardens perfumed by exotic flora, amphitheatres and arenas filled with jubilant crowds. Many more recall the dusty periphery, the winding streets that stank of human habitation and were fit only to keep their denizens alive and contained. It was a place entirely out of time, isolated by endless dunes on three sides and by a glimmering sea on the other, so carefully maintained by the cipherates and eunuchs of the so-called 'Venerable System'.

This was not to last, however, even given the admirably long period of rule that the Sorcerer-Kings of Famarqud, of many dynasties and bloodlines, had enjoyed. Their system proved ultimately unsustainable, and even as Famarqud grew to be ever richer, the systemic problems under which it suffered continued to fester out of sight and out of mind of the patrician, rune-tattooed overlords. A lax policing of the deserts, of the wastes that were thought to be entirely uninhiabitable - save by those deemed unimportant - would prove to be their downfall, for it was here, in the dunes and canyons that surrounded city of Famarqud on three sides that great change brewed.

It was here that the messianic warrior Aheid was banished, having been granted his 'freedom' to leave the bonds of servitude and the city itself if he so choosed. It was a sardonic gift that he had been given following his victories in the great arenas, for the great masters of the city long thought that it would be simpler to remove any slave of such growing prestige before any common rallying point could be found for the chattel slaves. Bread and games without any of the subsequent mess - there would be no choice in the matter. He would leave, or he would disappear and the narrative would be that he left. And so he did, for there were none amongst the gilded upper classes willing to offer patronage to the insolent gladiator.

And so life proceeded as usual behind the great frescoed walls of Famarqud, the great masters sneered down their noses at those they did business with and those they offered their sons and daughters and dowries to. Intrigues played out in the high courts while the grating song of bullwhips and shouted orders played out down below. A daughter of high prestige, the only child of the last Sorcerer-King Zelidizzar, was betrothed to the corpulent master of the neighboring realm of Khumer. It was a union that was distasteful to many, but moreso a means to an end than anything. A union of Famarqud and Khumer would have spelled great trouble for the other peoples of the world. It would be as the beginning anew of a second Khum Imperium. The only true concern is if barbarous Khumer customs would wind their way south if friendship was secured. The perfumed aristocrats would not abide by as much.

Meanwhile, in the wastes to the north, Aheid trudged onwards upon a desolate, stone-partitioned caravan road. His canteen was dry as bone, and no food remained in the pack he clutched with slackening hands. He, as many others, looked set to be killed by his freedom. One last, cruel joke by the slavers of the city. The buzzards circled, the bleached bones of men grew ever more common on the trail, but he did not give up. Not as far as he was concerned at least. He passed out and tumbled into the sand before he could surrender. But the tale did not end there.

Kessik riders, those who dared to travel the routes between the Famarqudian patrols in search of fat merchants and dead men alike, came upon his body there. He was not dead, and he would not die if they acted, and they knew this, and they knew just enough to decide that it would be best not to end him and take his meager possessions. The crone who decided much of the affairs of the tribe had, on the night prior, made each of them promise to draw no blood upon the road. And they did not. After all, it was unlikely that they would in Aheid's case, for many of them had come into the fold of the Kessik tribes in the same manner. Skilled warriors banished for their competence.

The young, half-dead gladiator-no-more was taken and shored up on one of the camels they had rode out. They retreated from the roads and took refuge in the shade, in a crevasse at the mouth of an ancient, violet stone canyon. It was there that they tended to him to ensure that he would not pass. Some strength returned to him, and they spoke, Aheid and the leader of these particular bandits. The man was known simply as Vahs, and his father had made the same pilgrimage. After some ruminating, especially in regards to the peculiar commands of the crone, they thought it best to return to their camp deeper within the maze of stone and sand, so that they might present Aheid to the crone and to the chief.

Aheid knew now a sort of kinship he never had before. These lean men of lean means had decided to rescue him from the carrion birds rather than make use of his meat and his rags as those back in Famarqud, desperate as they were, might have. Any suspicions he had were quickly cast aside as they treated him more like a brother than a prisoner. The rest of his journey was far more comfortable, he had company and food and drink, and he could enjoy the desert rather than be killed by it. The crystals and the mind-boggling rock formations of the canyons the Kessiks had secreted themselves away in boggled him, and as the sun descended it all become just that much more entrancing.

They became family to him, and he to them, in a short span of time. He had nowhere else to go, he had no knowledge of the rugged, cruel world beyond Famarqud's walls, and indeed he had no intention of abandoning these hospitable kindred souls. He grew stronger in body and spirit in their company, they taught him the way and will of the desert and refined the raw brutality of his swordplay into something keen and deadly by the teachings of the ancient martial art known as Ghiv Nujad, or 'The Fluttering Steps'. He was adopted by the Kessiks, and while their means were meager it was so much more to him than the squalor of the Famarqud slave quarters. He had become a master of his own fate. A free man perhaps.

Or perhaps not.

The mysterious crone, the wise woman of the tribe who had so quickly faded from memory as days stretched into months and months stretched into years, had finally decided to call for Aheid and allow him an audience with her. She had, up until this point, made herself into more of a recluse than usual, only lurking on the periphery, shrouded in tattered burgundy, watching as the Kessiks and Aheid grew closer and stronger. She who had once enjoyed a place of unrivaled power over the Kessiks had stepped back into the shadows from which she had emerged decades ago, if only to tug the slick strands of fate ever closer to their intended path.

She cultivated a leader by her absence. A decisive leader of men to whom the Kessiks readily rallied. A man whose incomplete formal education, the gift of a brazenly coercive Famarqudian nobleman to a rising gladiatorial star, had made him into an asset beyond his swordplay. He aided in the transcribing of old manuscripts, where the old scholars were now unable and the young scholars were unprepared. He deciphered the riddles of the mystic metal known as steel, refining the techniques of the Kessik smiths. He sojourned, with his fellows, deep into the dunes, the mountains, and the jungles on the hunt for artifacts and legends of old, wherein he took up a sword, one that was eight feet of rippling, pattern-welded steel carved with old scripts that were neither elfish nor dwarfish. And it was on these adventures that the Kessiks seized the greatest opportunity in their history.

An apathetic dislike for distant Famarqud would have been nothing more than that had Zelidizzar not thought to finally do what his ancestors could not and suppress Kessik subsistence raids once and for all. Clashes became more frequent and they became more chaotic as the faceless, cruel legions of Famarqud intensified their campaign of extermination in the north and east. The Kessiks would have said it was a stalemate, the Famarqudians would have said victory was inevitable, but neither side had truly gained the upper hand until King Zelidizzar blundered right into the hands of the ragged enemy.

He had in his heart great ambitions, he wished to see a Great Khum straddle the continent once more, to erect great works near and far and permit arcane discipline - and greatness - to reach all those with potential. He wished to see the upstarts, the pretenders, and the barbarians cast aside once and for all so a new golden age might be ushered in. His city and its residents, as wealthy as they were, could not fulfill this wish of his alone. Zelidizzar instead sought to make use of the maligned art of diplomacy and politics, to tame the wild men of the east. To fasten bridle and bit to the dread cannibal legions who had taken old Khum theology to its ultimate conclusion. To Famarqud, these men of the east, these 'Khumerites', were mad and just as savage as anyone else, but they were kin. And they were pliable and just as susceptible to the ambitions of world conquest.

It was their corpulent king, not quite man, but not quite beast, who the rune-inscribed Sorcerer-King reached out to. A man without an heir or a queen. Zelidizzar offered to him his only daughter, Najia, and with her the keys to the Kingdom of Famarqud upon his death. While suspicious of such an earnest offer, one in which Zelidizzar truly had little to personally gain, the king of the east accepted, and a wedding was to be had in the wretched capital of Khumer. One between the most basic of beasts, as highborn Famarqudians had said, and the most beautiful of princesses. It was above all else a marriage of politics and convenience.

Najia was privy to Zelidizzar's plans, and though her coming future as the wife of a gluttonous cannibal was distasteful to her, to put it lightly, she saw her father's reasoning. If the machinations of the Sorcerer-King and his Cipherates were fully realized she would control two thrones. An Empress of a new Khum Imperium, a sorceress whose power would be unmatched the known world over. It was a destiny she was keen on fulfilling, even if it meant being wed to a perpetually blood-flecked monster.

WIP[/hider]

[hider=Government, Economy, Demographics, Topography][u][b]Government, Economy, Demographics, Topography[/b][/u]
[B]Government:[/B] A Seihid Pashrat is, to put it as simply as possible, a theocratic monarchy, at least in theory. In truth, the political situation is largely one of trial and error, with absolute power having been invested in the messianic warrior Aheid. He has named no successor, and there is no obvious heir-apparent to whom the people look, and to make matters worse he has made no effort to produce an heir. He remains a bachelor, and a morose and disinterested one at that.

In practical terms, the nation is managed largely on a local scale, with self-governance and self-determination being conerstones of the new regime; more out of necessity than anything given the post-rebellion consolidation. Local clan chiefs or mayors are the new powers of the realm, and while their devotion to Aheid is largely unquestionable it has made for a mess of politicking and petty bickering. Many, these clannish leaders included, fear the coming chaos of a post-Aheid A Seihid Pashrat given that their devotion is to him and the faith rather than to the nation itself.

Those who were once considered the most vile of criminals by the cronies of the Sorcerer-King now find themselves holding positions of immense prestige and power. The unshackled slaves of former Famarqud now voice their own needs and wants without fear of the lash. It is a chaotic time, and it is not one in which effective government is readily apparent. All hinges on Aheid's word. A double-edged sword. Or perhaps a ticking time bomb.

[B]Economy:[/B] The people of A Seihid Pashrat were left with no shortage of skills in their toiling under their old masters. A rudimentary knowledge of metallurgy and masonry both were left with laborers and senior slave taskmasters whilst more skilled, expensive slaves - apprentices and journeymen in their own right - had mastered the art of working steel, glass, elaborate jewelry, and works of grand art. In truth, it was the slaves and the dregs who ran Famarqud's economy in the days of the Sorcerer-Kings, whilst the grand masters simply provided and raked in the capital.

The issue of the newly freed underclass of urban slaves find themselves with largely stagnant prospects however. The dole of bread and broth, the necessary expenditure by the court of the Sorcerer-King to keep an able workforce, has been re-instituted now as a means of charity while Aheid and his ministers attempt to find a means by which to make these people useful, productive, and happy. Many have devoted themselves to the impromptu construction of monuments or the repair of the city and its outlying infrastructure, if only to keep their hands busy. They remain optimistic, even if the situation was not as easily resolved as they had hoped.

Those who tended to the fields, flocks, mines, quarries, and other such assets of the old aristocracy remain largely in their old trades, only now the wealth they wrest from the earth or nurture from infancy is theirs to keep. Many have sought to sell beyond the borders of A Seihid Pashrat, and a new class of petty merchants has sprung up from these old stewards of resources, occupying the vacuum created by the change of guard back in Famarqud.

Those who devoted themselves to the fight against the Sorcerer-King have either returned to their fields, to their tribal homelands, or have in increasing number turned to selling their services abroad. Hesradin mercenaries have found places for themselves in courts, armies, retinues, and guard forces across the continent, and have swiftly proven their merit and earned a reputation for loyalty and personal skill.

[B]Religion:[/B] 

[B]Geography:[/B] 

[B]Population:[/B] 2,800,000

[B]Demographics[/B]
(Makeup of your population; ethnicities, languages, minorities.) 

[B]Notable Locations[/B][/hider]

[hider=Personalities of Note][B][u]Personalities of Note[/u][/B]
[url=http://puu.sh/gHZoV/072fdb35b1.jpg]Aheid, Groom of Thura and Hand of Golud[/url]
A gladiator turned messiah, now the master of all the desert and jungle that the old Sorcerer-Kings once ruled over. The burden of spiritual and political leadership weighs heavily on him, and the mistakes he has made weigh heavier on him still. Doubts grow in his mind, even as the people rejoice and give to him their undying devotion.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZr9/93f38a23cf.jpg]Zelidizzar, the Golden Serpent, Last Sorcerer-King, Last True Scion of Great Khum[/url]
A man of immense power and cunning. It was he who had schemed, at the expense of his own daughter, to bring about a new Khum Imperium. It was he who, over the course of his reign, had spilled enough blood to make the Chif River run red. He met his end by way of the poison of a Hesradin assassin, far to the north, where he thought to hide and connive to reclaim his throne.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZs8/da2195a22f.jpg]Mafrat, The Great Avenger, The Bearer of Golud's Blade[/url]
Once perhaps one of Aheid's closest friends, and perhaps one of the most obstinate of Famarqud's slave warriors. He suffered much at the hands of the cruel masters of the city, and those close to him also suffered for his defiance. He now metes out justice on Aheid's behalf. Or perhaps bloody revenge. He inadvertently, in a fit of cruelty, set in motion a chain of events whose outcome will decide the shape of all the world.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZty/834c7f4edb.jpg]Najia, Estranged Princess, Captive Queen, Scholar and Philospher[/url]
Zelidizzar's only child, and perhaps one of his most tragic of victims. A woman of keen intelligence and cunning, whose competence may have made her into a truly formidable sovereign had Zelidizzar's machinations bore fruit. She now lives a sheltered life in a palace of black marble and dried magma as the reluctant wife of a sorcerer with no face and no skin.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZuD/426c66aea8.jpg]Vahs au Thurid, High Chief of the Kessiks, Scourge of the North[/url]
Aheid's savior, the man who offered him a hand where another might have simply murdered him. He stood as Aheid's staunchest ally and friend from his rescue to the liberation of Famarqud, and in the process was rewarded justly with the chieftainship of all the Kessik peoples, the wasteland wanderers and horsemen who formed the core of Aheid's righteous jihad. His people have set their sights on Khumer itself and re-affirmed in their hearts the old maxim 'He who has no enemy can not be slain.'

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZwo/d061c21cc6.jpg]Jaumde Gudar-i-Hodol, The Pirate King, Lord without Land, Adventurer[/url]
A giant of a man, broad of frame and standing at perhaps seven and a half feet in height. He is not unlike those fearsome northerners, save for in how swarthy and jovial he is. His ancestry beside, he proved to be instrumental in the fall of Zelidizzar's great city when he rallied the privateers of the southern seas and dashed aside the Sorcerer-King's dromons. He claims to act in the name of 'pure righteousness', and sees Aheid's new realm as an ideal vehicle for it. He is reluctant to kill, and has a reputation for mercy in his robbery of traders and naval vessels alike.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZxH/b79993a378.jpg]Shefa Visnartuli, Dervish of the Totem of Krausgnor, Boatbiter[/url]
She is foremost amongst the tribes of jungle-dwelling peoples of eastern A Seihid known as Visnar, a warrioress who is notoriously skilled in the art of single combat and she has demonstrated as much time and again on the black soil of the Crou, the millenia old stone ring in which matters of  Visnar martial honor are settled. She was among the first to approach Aheid following the siege of Famarqud, and has been the most earnest in earning his favor.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZz4/6ad2e7387f.jpg]The Crone[/url]
She found her way to the Kessiks, frail as she was, and as treacherous as the road was. She imparted on them wisdom and aid that marked her for a witch, albeit one of pure intent. Her origins were not known to those whom held her in high esteem, but it was she who knew of Aheid and who set him on the course towards Revelation. She disappeared on the eve of the final assault upon Famarqud much to the dismay and confusion of the people of the rebellion.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZzP/3ae09be9f3.jpg]Yegri, Gray-Hair, Grandfather Famarqud[/url]
A man who has seen perhaps eighty winters, and has seen nearly all of them as a thrall of the city. He was long ago removed from the harsh labor and servitude that his rheumy eyes and frail muscles prevented him from carrying out, and he was subsequently removed from the Slave Dole of bread and broth. He survived for many years off of the generosity of his fellow slaves, and became something of a community leader and rabble-rouser whose transgressions were enabled by the community's protection. He was afforded a more formal office as Mayor of Aheid's palace, and as a liason between the messiah and the people when the city changed hands.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZBx/ac65c87989.jpg]Mikuta, Executor of Imperial Will, Spymaster and Cipherate Foremost[/url]
A wiry, cruel man whose force of will, loyalty, and base cunning made him into the greatest covert asset of Zelidizzar. It was he who for a decade and a half ran the menacing Cipherate order and enforced the Sorcerer-King's will at home and abroad. It was he who unbarred the gates for the Hesradin assassins when Zelidizzar was most vulnerable. He has disappeared into the throngs of murderers and cannibals to walk the streets of Khumer's cities.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZDo/26f297830e.jpg]Muslah au Tijid, the Manslayer, the Backbreaker[/url]
A man of Khumer and Famarqud descent, a warrior of great renown who once had the ear of royalty and nobility all across Zelidizzar's realm. He won his place of privilege on the bloody sands of the arena, and had seen fit to win friends amongst the nobility rather than march out into the desert to die. He has served as the master guardsman, the Revitar, of two royal households now. First for the ill-fated Zelidizzar and now for his daughter Najia. He is a man of few words, but he is fully aware of the influence he possesses and the talent with which he can swing his axe.

[url=http://puu.sh/gHZEH/96b575e22c.jpg]Hofarus Visnargabridah (or Hofarus au Bridah)[/url]
One of only a few Visnar to have forsaken the old ways of the eastern tropics and seek his fortune in Famarqud, and one of an even smaller number to actually find said fortune. The dark-skinned man took a Famarqud-style name and carved out a niche as a purveyor of alchemical compounds, and he was no charlatan, he had a great talent for poultices and poisons alike, and many nobles would quietly do business with him. He escaped the fate of many of his peers, a march to the death, by way of sabotaging the efforts of a number of Zelidizzar's acolytes as they attempted to place curses upon the city.[/hider]

[hider=Institutions][B][u]Institutions[/u][/B]
(Major institutions of the nations, such as legislative bodies, corporate organisations/guilds, families, most importantly, the military.)[/hider]

[hider=Military][img]http://puu.sh/gKBcG/5c4f229b60.jpg[/img]

[B][u]Military[/u][/B]
[b]Army Organization/Composition:[/b] The armies of A Seihid Pashrat may at first seem a disjointed mess, a force composed entirely of those who choose to fight for their new state, and who do so in the fashion of a career rather than as a seasonal obligation. Those who intend to fight, to offer their absolute loyalty and will to wage war to Aheid and those he represents, will generally congregate under the banner of a more prominent warrior, a wealthy landholder, or a local chieftain. The quality of equipment varies wildly, whether it be on land or at sea, but as a rule that which the Hesradin carry into battle is generally of better quality than that of their neighbors. Steel is a common sight, as is well crafted and well maintained armor.

The Hesradin warriors, even those left with only the most meager of implements, truly shine in terms of personal skill on the battlefield. The soldiers of A Seihid are as a rule tutored in the art of Ghiv Nujad, or the 'Fluttering Steps', a collection of Kessik martial arts that developed over centuries of rugged living in exile, in the wastes north of Famarqud. The Ghiv Nujad ensures that each oathsworn warrior is just as effective as a whole, in a formation, as they are alone. They are not mere bodies to be placed in the meatgrinder, but rather a team of fierce, zealous killers working in unison.

As a rule, in order to mitigate the costs of what would otherwise be a prohibitively expensive fighting force, each leader of a band of fighters acts as something of a patron, and while they do receive a stipend for their service from Aheid's court it is primarily their duty to amass an effective fighting force. There are a great many such bands, ranging from only a few dozen men to a few hundred, and they tend to all have their own quirks, such as favoring a particular school of Ghiv Nujad or being in possession of an unusually talented crew of siege engineers, and while this breeds quality it also makes the task of Aheid's appointed generals all the more daunting.

Mustering an army of Hesradin warriors is guaranteed to be a chaotic affair, at least at first while the bands begin to trickle back to the city to prepare for war. They tend to rove, or even disperse, when their services are not required. There are those who take it upon themselves to shore up the patrol of A Seihid Pashrat's borders, where a select few man lonely watchposts and forts, a holdover from the days of paranoid Sorcerer-Kings. Others will go beyond the borders to seek their fortunes by plying their Ghiv Nujad in exchange for coin. However, there is no question that if war came to A Seihid its warriors and sailors would return in earnest. Defense of what they won is more important than any personal bounty.

[b]Navy Organization/Composition:[/b]

[b]Troop Total:[/b] It is speculated by those with an interest in A Seihid Pashrat, malicious or otherwise, that Aheid maintains a host of perhaps twenty two thousand warriors (22,000 army strength) on retainer. These are his chosen, his absolute best, those whose skill at arms is valuable enough to earn them and their patron warlords a full-time, year-round post and salary. The majority of these warriors are Kessiks, and as such a large complement of professional cavalry is available at all times.

The seafarers of A Seihid Pashrat maintain a small, tighter force of professional sailors, with around seventy-five warships (75 ships) of standardized, professional construction. They are built in the style of the old Famarqudian dromon given the ease of construction with pre-existing infrastructure and a knowledgable labor force. In addition the navy has the ability to levy privateering vessels, and in particular has close ties to those who count themselves friends of Jaumde Gudar-i-Hodoi.

[b]Other:[/b] (Such as siege equipment, a secret service, internal security, important mercenaries, or paramilitary forces, etc.)[/hider]

[hider=Other][B][u]Other[/u][/B]
Special traits, remarks, boons and flaws
[/hider][/hider]

[hider=Rolls]

[b]ESSENTIALS[/b]
Population Density (Population - 2,800,000) - Sparsely populated, regionally dense; A good amount of manpower for the military and economic purposes, with social infrastructure strained more at a regional basis. Civic projects range from affordable to expensive. The nation requires a stronger agriculture to sustain itself. 

Economy - Slow Growth - The economy is performing well, though there is room for improvement. There are certain limitations on the economy that are bottlenecking real growth, such as a restriction in supplies or insufficient demand, however. There is some unemployment and economic unhappiness among people in the lower income brackets. You heavily are dependent on trade.

Urbanisation - Semi-urbanised: There are several towns and a few cities present, ranging from a few hundred to a few thousand inhabitants.

Technology - Modernizing: The industrial infrastructure is in the process of improvement, and this is a teething process. But the economy is seeing increased activity because of this investment. New technologies are becoming domestically available. However, there is a degree of dependence on imports, including in terms of the expertise to modernize the economy. Metallurgy is high-tech, even steel lies within your capabilities.

Domestic Political Stability - Relatively stable

[b]GEOGRAPHY[/b]
Largely consists of plains, desert, with tropical areas

[b]RESOURCES[/b]
Mineral Deposits - Extensive deposits of metals and minerals. 

Valuable Mineral Deposits - Trace deposits of rare earth metals, predominately marble and variant quarries.

Unique Materials - glassware, jewellery

Agriculture - small livestock based, food shortage are seasonally common

[b]MILITARY[/b]
Military Focus - Decent army and excellent navy, good infantry and cavalry ratio (5:1)

Military Recruitment - Volunteer Force Military, additional levies in wartime

Reliability - Levies are of decent quality, generals are fiercely loyal to the ruler

Military Size - small core of elite units, relative to total population: requires some upkeep, easy to equip/supply quickly, seasonal levies

Military Technology - Rapid Modernization, your nation does not lag behind the rest of the world, and even sets the standard on some levels.

Military Training and Morale - Highly Trained; High Morale, levies are of good quality with high morale

Military Leadership - Competent; Rose to their positions through experience and battlefield exploits; loyal

Military Reputation - Popular domestically; considered small but dangerous by foreigners

[hr]
[b]Pros:[/b]
Watch towers: No matter what your military is like it is usually best to know BEFORE the enemy is knocking on your gates so you use a system of watch towers to warn you before the enemy gets to close. 

[b]Cons:[/b]
Who cares about Hobbiton: You’re small, inconsequential, probably so hard to remember your citizens can barely remember your nation’s name. But that all goes towards keeping those filthy enemies out there from using a dragon to breathe down your small hairy inbred necks!

[/hider]