Tergaith: Bronze

Built across a crown of green hills and flowering terraces, Marlamma rises above the blue expanse of Lake Virel — a city of walls, water, and long memory. Broad stone steps climb through neighborhoods carved in soft curves, shaded by divine palms and quarried blocks still warm with ancient blessing.   Five years ago, the city faced its fiercest siege in generations. But the walls, consecrated by sacred rite, held firm. The banners still fly. The palace still shines. The city endures.   Temples cling to the high places — temples to the wandering stars, the moon, the sun. The grandest belongs to Siluru, goddess of bloom and rot, whose priesthood shepherds both the living and the dead. In the far mountains, the storm-god Drahal still sleeps, though his name darkens every thunderclap. And above all, the God-Empress reigns — in gold, in flame, in law.   But now, the court whispers. The Empress grows pale, her voice carried only by decree. Her consort walks the corridors in her stead, and some say his shadow grows long enough to touch the throne. You serve her — still — and your deeds have not gone unnoticed.   Marlamma always has endured. And if your loyalty holds, and your courage does not fail… Marlamma always will.