Somewhere in the beautiful fields of free Monstad stands the ordinary, unpretentious camp of the Hilichurls. Ordinary size, ordinary bone fences and two towers made of wood in which Hilichurls are standing with crossbows and now doing a very important thing - sleeping.

At the bottom there are a few shatters and a wooden structure in which a shamachurl sits and does an equally important thing, clapping his hands while the rest of the Hilichurl ranks dance, namely five boyvo, two grinadiers with slimes and one berserker with a burning baton. Sitting beside them are the senior Mithachurls, two with axes and one with a shield.

The final, strongest, sturdiest stone Lavachurl calmly waves his head as he watches his comrades dance.