In January, the tropical jungle is lush with green, warmed by gentle spring breezes. Within the ancient ruins of the First Holy City, towering and sacred cotton trees abound, as do low, sprawling vine flowers.
This ancient holy city in the rainforest is so vast that it can accommodate thousands of tribal chieftains, envoys, and warriors, along with as many as four thousand members of the Imperial Guard Legion. Yet it remains so desolate, with the mottled green stone bricks filled with the wilderness and vitality of the jungle. Even with such a large influx of tribes, they cannot flatten the resilient and lush grass and shrubs.
Before the Industrial Era, people were often helpless against the dense rainforest. And the tribes of the tropical jungle had long been accustomed to it all.
"Ancient tree spirits in the rain! When alive, we embrace the trees. When we die, we are embraced by the tree roots..."
