The flickering torchlight of the Great Hall in Prague cast long, dancing shadows against the stone walls. Duke Bořivoj sat at the head of the heavy oak table, staring at a small, wax-sealed parchment. To his left sat his Chancellor, a man who had served his father; to his right, his ambitious younger brother, Vratislav.
"You're right, Vratislav," Bořivoj said, sliding the parchment across the table. "We need this alliance. In fact, I want you to lead the embassy to Budapest. Take the mountain pass. It’s faster." The flickering torchlight of the Great Hall in
A nervous courtier stepped forward, whispering into the Duke’s ear. Vratislav had been seen meeting with a known assassin in the tavern district. The "Loyal Brother" modifier was a lie; Vratislav was currently 95% of the way through a "Murder" scheme targeting Bořivoj. Take the mountain pass
Vratislav’s face paled. He knew the mountain pass was infested with "Bandits"—the kind of bandits a Duke pays to ensure a tragic accident occurs. "An alliance secures our southern border
Bořivoj grunted. He looked at his icon in the corner of his mind—or rather, the bond he felt with his Chancellor. The old man shook his head. "The King of Hungary is 'Ambitious' and 'Deceitful,' my Liege. He doesn't want a partner; he wants a claim on your throne. Once your daughter is in his court, she is a hostage, not a bridge."
Vratislav leaned in, his eyes gleaming with the sharp light of a man who saw opportunity in every shadow. "An alliance secures our southern border, brother. It makes us untouchable. With the Hungarians at our back, we could finally claim the Duchy of Nitra."
