It's rabbit season - Erebor, diplomats

[Erebor]

We are at war. There will be scars.

Tiphon asks questions, and Erebor is silent as Shayan answers. Although, it quickly becomes clear to him that perhaps he should've done more of the talking, considering the way she seems to blurt things out. At least she, like he, is newer, and therefore can't blurt out too much. He considers for just a moment that she might perhaps be lying – that she might be claiming to be new, when in fact she knows a lot more than she lets on. But then he remembers the rolling and the blood and all the other strange things he's seen since they were sent to do visits together and quickly dismisses the idea.

Well, mostly. It's either genius or madness, and while he thinks it's madness, he may never be entirely sure.

"I am Straia's son. And Straia is Rodrik's daughter." there's no harm in telling him things that are more or less common knowledge. He's far less inclined to share the details of how she came to have the throne. Let him assume that it had been a calm takeover, a genial handing down of the throne from one generation to the next. "As Shaytan says, she is a good ruler. Although I can't say I have much to compare her with." the boy offers with a small smile.

"We are glad to hear that the Dale is doing well. If you have more questions about the Chamber we'd be happy to answer them, but otherwise, we don't need to take any more of your time." They've learned what they came here to learn – the Dale does as well as any of the kingdoms nowadays. It is quiet, but aren't they all? Perhaps they should pry further into alliances, try to ask more questions, but Tiphon's graceful deflection and demurring tells the boy that such questions might not be well received. They know enough, he thinks, and that will need to be enough. At least for now.

Erebor

Native Prince of the Chamber

warship x straia