The fallout from the dwarven betrayal left a bitter taste in the air of the Jorailian pavilion. The blatant display of superstitious folly had been a galling insult, but for Alaric, it was merely a change in logistics. The dwarves were no longer a potential ally to be courted, but a resource to be harvested at a later, more convenient time. The game moved on.
It was Ondine, overseeing the complex web of their delegation's external affairs, who first received the overture. It arrived not via a common runner, but delivered by a silent, deferential servant from the Celestial Dragon Empire's own retinue. The scroll itself was a work of art. It was bound with rollers of polished, cool jade, the paper a sheet of fine, cream-colored silk that felt impossibly smooth to the touch. The calligraphy was not the blocky, official script of the Imperial court, but a flowing, elegant hand that was both beautiful and assertive.
