Among the dilapidated squalor of the refugee camp lining the city walls, little can be done but eke out life day by day. Among the tattered cloth tents, and broken crates a small gathering is ending. A group of bright-eyed youths is clustered around a Elezen woman holding a book, who is animatedly lecturing them. Further out, a few sallow eyed adults watch with the barest spark of interest. The Elezen places the book down, and picks up a rough piece of chalk, turning to the boulder behind her. She writes a few letters in large, bold strokes, then turns back to the group, "Remember this, tomorrow we'll move onto the Consonants." The children scurry off at this, in search of new entertainment, to the amusement of the Elezen.
![[Image: p4dNJw0.jpg]](http://i.imgur.com/p4dNJw0.jpg)
She sighs, and indulges in a brief moment of self pity as she scans the filth of the camp, "The struggle goes ever onwards..." She says with a chuckle, before sitting down on a crate and paging through her book.
She sighs, and indulges in a brief moment of self pity as she scans the filth of the camp, "The struggle goes ever onwards..." She says with a chuckle, before sitting down on a crate and paging through her book.
