Tarian and Keldon are eating dinner at the latest banquet between the Dwarves, Elves, and Humans. Privately Tarian complains to Keldon that Fitik and Variel continue to drag their heels about forming an alliance. Tarian dreams of having the three races formalize the union that rose from the ashes of the victory of the wall. Will Tarian ever be able to get his coalition finalized with the Elves and Dwarves?
“I can’t believe we’re holding another banquet already,” Tarian said, studying the makeshift hall that still reeked of freshly hewn timber. He rubbed his forehead as a heavy sigh escaped his lips.
Keldon swallowed, glanced over, and smirked. “You look annoyed, my friend.”
Tarian’s gaze scanned the chamber. “This is the second banquet, and we’re still no closer to securing an alliance.”
“Has it only been two?” Keldon asked as he stabbed a chunk of meat with his fork.
Tarian’s fingers began drumming next to his empty plate. He examined the tables and benches before lifting his glass, eyeing the pale amber liquid. He took a sip, managing not to cough from the strength of the wine. “Yes, Kel. Two banquets with the elves and dwarves, plus the one after the siege. And each has pulled another thread we can’t quite identify.”
Laughing, Keldon clapped his friend’s back and lifted his goblet. He winked, took a swig, and sighed. He set the cup down and leaned over, lowering his voice. “If you’re serious about this alliance of yours, Tarian, you’ll have to get used to drinking this wine.”
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