Lost in translation

Wilder knew the Warlord would be confused by the question, but appreciated the response nonetheless. Listening carefully to the explanation, his brows drew together slowly. He couldn’t stop the question from leaving his mouth. “So, why are they called slaves? Ain’t the whole purpose of slaves to keep them for yerself for forever?” His head cants slightly, not judging the Warlord for the wording, just confused why they would allow traditional slaves such an opportunity. It hardly made sense to snub them into the ground by calling them slaves, but then boosting them up by allowing them to rank out of the slave roll.

“Thank you for answering. I don’t mean to question your rank system, was just curious. Lately, I’ve been helping out Oleander with training that Songbird he’s got, Vesper. She don’t quite get why it’s worth working toward somethin’ other than a slave so I wanted to get a better understandin’,” he quickly explained his reasoning so that Basilisk didn’t suspect that he was trying to challenge Armada’s ways. Not that he agreed that they should be called slaves, but he could work on that sort of phrasing in the future.