The expansive chamber of Count Petrovil Crakian's residence echoed with the measured cadence of Draaro's proposal. The room, adorned with maritime relics, bore witness to the weight of history and the intricate dance between land and sea.
Petrovil, a seasoned ruler with the gaze of someone who had navigated both political currents and ocean waves, listened attentively as Draaro presented the plea for alliance.
Beside the count, a young man in his twenties stood, his countenance marked by a mixture of disdain and scepticism. As Draaro concluded his speech, the young man, identified as Gafin, addressed his father with a brashness that cut through the air.
"Father, why are you paying attention to him?" Gafin questioned, his tone laden with contempt. "If they wanted to talk about alliances, Servvas should have come directly. He shouldn't have sent this swine here."
