"Eh? The Alliance's Scout wooden plaque? It's of a higher rank than mine."
The Spear Militia were meticulous, forming a tight formation surrounding the two men with their sharp Copper Spears. The young commander, Guzman, looked perplexed. The two figures in front of him were dressed in Black Robes, bloodstained, and carrying a bamboo basket on their back. He examined the wooden plaque handed to him, scrutinizing it for a while before asking again in Mexica.
"Are you the Kingdom's insiders?"
"We, Alliance's, people!"
Chiwaco blinked his old eyes, repeating in simple Mexica language. Guzman scratched his head, unable to fully understand the other's accent, then turned to his trusted Militia.
"Please call General Ezpan over; there might be urgent intelligence."
