Velvetica sighed.

She had begun to suspect when the mysterious foreigners from across the sea had been mentioned in the first place, but the sight of the coin had confirmed it for her. She recognized that gold. Roger's report and the words of the others only confirmed it.

Morahti. Sinners in the eyes of the goddesses, but bizarre in the manner of their sin. As she understood, in war between clans of their homeland, they simply accepted that enslavement was the price of defeat. It was an abomination, but one that was conducted in a foreign manner.

And they had no understanding of the wickedness of slavery. They saw those who dealt in slaves in this land simply as those who dealt in the lives of the defeated, rather than those who deprived others of their freedom.

"They simply assume that those being sold are the prizes of the victor," Velvetica said, with a sigh, "They have no grasp of the wickedness of slavery, but that does not absolve them of their sins."

Her hand rested on Starshine's hilt.

"Our opponent is the Morahti," she began, picking up her voice to reach her soldiers, "We will approach and surround them, before setting loose their horses. That will cripple their combat capability and cause chaos, which will will take advantage of to swiftly defeat them and release their prisoners. Those who surrender will be granted mercy, but do not count on surrender from the Morahti."

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