Abadius 14th, 4725 The sun, a molten orb sinking towards the horizon, bathed the kingdom's encampment in a warm, golden light. Sawdust, the fragrant byproduct of relentless construction, danced in the air. Around the sprawling site, workers hammered and hauled, their labor giving skeletal form to future buildings. The sounds of their industry – the rhythmic thud of hammers, the creak of ropes strained under load, the shouts and calls – created a symphony of creation. At the heart of it all stood the High Council's tent, a sturdy edifice of canvas and wood, proudly displaying the newly crafted banner of their burgeoning realm. Inside, Tybalt, the Emissary, stood hunched over a makeshift table littered with maps and documents. Across from him, Gideon, the Magister, sat perched on a simple wooden stool. His clockwork eidolon, a marvel of intricate gears and polished brass, rested nearby, its delicate ticking a subtle counterpoint to the robust sounds of the camp. Their discussion, focused on the vital arteries of trade that would nourish their young kingdom, was abruptly cut short. Rapid footsteps and a flurry of hushed voices erupted outside, followed by the parting of the tent flap. A guard entered, his posture tinged with a hint of unease. "My lords," the guard announced, "a messenger has arrived… A kobold." Gideon, ever curious, attempted to discern if this was a familiar face. He focused his perception, trying to place the small reptile amongst the growing number of kobolds that had begun to integrate, however tentatively, into their society. A roll of the dice, guided by the unseen hand of fate, revealed a familiar face. This golden-eyed kobold was Jiknik, a young and eager individual who had recently begun offering his services around the kingdom. He was known to be harmless, and a quick scan confirmed he carried no weapons. "What is the message?" Tybalt inquired, his voice carrying the weight of his position. Moments later, Jiknik entered. His scales, a muted green-gray, were dusted with the grime of travel. He wore a patched tunic, clearly well-worn, and clutched a rolled parchment in both clawed hands. The wax seal, catching the dim light, gleamed faintly. Despite his diminutive size and somewhat ragged appearance, Jiknik held himself with a surprising air of importance. "Message for the High Council!" he declared, his voice high-pitched but surprisingly steady. He stepped forward, extending the parchment towards Tybalt. The wax seal bore the crest of House Whitewood – a tree starkly etched against a shield. Tybalt accepted the missive with a nod of thanks, breaking the seal with practiced ease. As he unfurled the letter, Gideon leaned closer, his curiosity piqued. The parchment was filled with the neat, deliberate script of Lord Regent Brinn Whitewood, each word radiating the urgency and clarity of a battlefield command. It spoke of a correspondence from a noble contact in Brevoy, offering insights into King Irovetti's cunning and treacherous nature. The letter warned of manipulation and veiled threats, urging the council to carefully consider Irovetti's intentions and to respond with strength, but without unnecessary provocation. Brinn's letter also detailed the complex web of noble houses within Brevoy, each a potential ally, trade partner, or rival. House Aldori, with their martial prowess and existing ties, were deemed a natural fit. House Garess could be swayed by industrial opportunities, while House Lebeda's focus on commerce made them ripe for trade agreements. House Medvyed, with their traditional values, aligned with some of the kingdom's philosophies. House Orlovsky, cautious but pragmatic, might offer discreet support. House Surtova, though powerful, was a dangerous prospect, their assistance often coming at a steep price. Lastly, the diminished House Calvain, though weakened, might still possess valuable scholars or experts. The Lord Regent concluded by emphasizing the critical juncture their kingdom faced and the need for unified action. The noble contact in Brevoy had promised discreet assistance, but the bulk of the responsibility fell upon Tybalt and Gideon. As Tybalt finished reading, he passed the parchment to Gideon, who silently perused it, his keen eyes absorbing every nuance. Jiknik, meanwhile, stood quietly, his golden eyes flitting between the parchment and the faces of the council members. His small form, dwarfed by the towering canvas walls and the weighty presence of those he served, betrayed a mixture of pride and apprehension. The letter was set aside, a thoughtful silence descending upon the tent. Jiknik shifted his weight, his claws flexing momentarily before he stilled them. He watched, awaiting acknowledgment, his chest puffed slightly with the pride of a duty fulfilled. Tybalt reached into his coat pocket, producing a small piece of parchment. Taking a quill from his desk, he penned a quick note to Brinn. "Gideon, do you have anything you would like to add?" He showed Gideon the note, which read simply: "Have begun preliminary discussions with House Aldori, the others will require study. I will be able to discuss deeper at or after the moot." Gideon, his voice a blend of his own thoughts and those of his eidolon, Nav, responded, "Deciding on a definite course of action in regards to any of these houses at this point would be pre-mature." A second voice, emanating from Nav but perfectly synchronized with Gideon's, added, "However, I think swifter actions concerning three of these may be warranted." Gideon, realizing the disconcerting effect of their dual speech, focused, bringing himself back fully to his gnome self. "That said, I feel we are fairly safe extending a hand of alliance to House Aldori. Our history over the last year has been positive, and to my knowledge, the only house we have directly treated with since coming to the stolen lands." His thoughts, and Nav's, turned to two other houses. "Something draws me towards Houses Medvyed and Calvain." He continued, expressing concern that their kingdom's expansionist charter might clash with Medvyed's traditional values and respect for the land. "Now what should we do in the immediate future will be something to discuss, but we should be aware of House Medvyed." "Calvain intrigues me in an altogether different way," Gideon concluded, his voice animated, his movements now fully synchronized with Nav's, any pretense of separation abandoned in the presence of the messenger. "If they have been weakened or displaced, we may benefit substantially by acting swiftly to offer safe harbor. Again, even that is hard to say with so little information to go on. For now, the meeting is imminent, and we can discuss more at length concerning Medvyed, but if Brinn has a contact that can get more information on Calvain, it might behoove us to set that in motion sooner rather than later." The weighty decisions of diplomacy and kingdom-building hung in the air, their implications as vast and uncertain as the sprawling lands they sought to rule.