At the ring of the dawn gong, 105 men, most of whom were very old, shuffled into the meeting hall of Elweir Yokin. Silently, they all walked to their assigned seats and made themselves as comfortable as they possibly could, which isn't much. They all sat in silence for another 5 minutes, all uncomfortably eyeing the one empty seat.

"Should we start without her?" one of them eventually squeaks out.

"Those filthy bugmen. Can't trust them with anything! I say we send this exemption law to the Infernal Swamps where it belongs and go back to eradicating the infidel filth!" another from the back shouts. The room is suddenly uproarious conversation, with some rallying behind the voice in the back and some shouting oppositions.

" . . . Silence," croaked Archduke Emol Tagd, but none heard him except the man to his immediate right. He nodded, stood up, and repeated his archduke's command in a deafening roar. The room fell immediately silent. "We will wait until our last representative attends," Emol whispered. Ten minutes passed, and eventually, just as quiet dissent was spreading across the room, a Nyr'kiin envoy threw open the door and heralded the newcomer.

"Presenting the New Queen of all the Nyr'kiin people, Heir to the Grand Wisdom of the Ancient Hive Mothers, and Lady of our Minds, the Queen See'iama!" Two large Nyr'kiin stomped in, a small female clutching one of their legs. He shook her off, and she nervously took her seat.

"Now that we're all present, we may discuss matters of the day," came the whisper at the front. The various dukes all returned to their bustling arguments.

"Now is our chance. The Drathan filth are moving against our heinous oppressors, the Salished Dominion. This cannot be misinterpreted as anything but a sure sign of Our God. I motion for a transfer of funds from our theology branch to our military, and begin assembling the necessary militia. God wills it!" shouted Duke Qilen Wurt. The men around him cheered.

"That cannot be done," said Duke Rerot Vill from the other end. "Theology is our life. If our children, the people who will be sitting in our place within a century, don't receive the proper education on our holy and wise God, how shall we expect to receive his blessings? I motion for a transfer from our sanitation branch to theology. As is in the best interests of our Blessed and Mighty. Those crowded around him let off slow applause.

"That is impossible as well. One in ten are dying of Lice Curse in Medqi," retorts yet another voice in the back. "Sanitation is the only thing keeping it from going further." 

See'iama looked on in confusion. The constant conflict of the council was getting to her, and she needed to prove herself a capable ruler. How could she get through to these bickering disagreeable dukes? Motioning for the man next to her to silence the room, she nervously stood up and croaked out a suggestion.

"Perhaps there is another way. You humans have been fighting your battles alone since your creation, but now it's time to put that aside. The transfer of funds shall go to sanitation, and in exchange I will rally all able-bodied kinsmen to your cause." A few men far away from her tried to discourage this notion, but they were drowned out by the overwhelming support.

"Very well then. We shall raise the tax for sanitation, and induct the Nyr'kiin into regiments. This meeting is adjourned for the day. In the next moon, we shall rise up against the Salished. May God be with you all."