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The southern slope of the World's Ridge revealed its jagged outline in the morning light. Casalos folded its wings, circled once above the Mirar River, and after confirming that there were no other dragons around, swooped down toward Miraba on the riverbank.
From the air, this mining center of Sword Coast resembles a giant anthill—the surface is merely the tip of the iceberg, the true city hidden deep underground. For generations, the Shield Dwarves have mined precious ores here, their workshops and mines forming an intricate underground network. Humans on the surface are responsible for transporting these ores to markets across the land, while simultaneously protecting the city from surface threats.
Nominally, Miraba is ruled by a hereditary marquis, but real power rests in the hands of the "Sparkling Stone" Council. This organization, composed of elite dwarves and humans, meets annually to determine production quotas and, when necessary, uses production cuts to coerce customers.
Thinking of this city, Casalos couldn't help but recall the crystal dragon. Serendella, affectionately known as "Axe Mom" by the Shield Dwarves, had protected this mining city for centuries. When Grommash attacked Mirabar, this crystal dragon, out of her kind nature, wanted to protect the dwarves, but under the influence of the Chaos attribute, she completely lost her rational judgment of the difference in strength and actually participated in the Chromatic Dragons' operation against the Ancient Red Dragon.
The result was predictable—the cunning chromatic dragons used her as cannon fodder. While the other dragons fled the battlefield, Serendella was easily captured by Grommash Hellscream. Now, this kind yet chaotic crystal dragon is staying in the demiplane with Grommash Hellscream, assisting the red dragon in devising a conquest plan for another world—the target being another closed crystal system far beyond the realm of the heavens.
After its epic battle with "Old Roar," which "ignited the entire sky of the Northern Sword Coast," it conveniently announced, through the words of a red dragon clone, that it accepted Casalos's "mediation" and would no longer threaten Miraba. The grateful Obsidian Council—or rather, the greedy human merchant representatives within the council—immediately decided to sell half of the city's mining control to Deepwater Territory... well, someone had "persuaded" them.
To ensure the smooth operation of this important mining base, Casalos dispatched five azelf dragons and a hundred-strong half-dragon force to be stationed there permanently. Ostensibly for protection, this was also a means of monitoring the operations of the human merchant guilds.
However, Casalos did not come to Miraba this time to check the accounts. It landed at the edge of the Hidden Forest southeast of the city and quickly activated its form change—this time choosing the image of a slightly wealthy middle-aged human male, with brown hair interspersed with a few strands of silver, dressed in elegant but not ostentatious merchant's attire, and a gold coin pouch symbolizing wealth hanging at his waist.
Following the winding trade route, Casalos soon came to the outer walls of Miraba. The city's fortifications were characteristic of the Shield Dwarves—the walls, unlike the ridiculously tall walls of the Grey Dwarves' cities, were exceptionally thick, constructed from massive granite blocks, each meticulously polished and perfectly fitted together. Every twenty meters along the walls stood a low, sturdy tower, atop which mounted heavy ballistae crafted by dwarven artisans.
The city gates also reflected the aesthetics of the shield dwarves, with intricate runes and mineral patterns carved on the two massive steel doors, and the emblem of the Radiant Stone Council hanging above the door frame: a huge gem surrounded by twelve warhammers.
"Halt, unfamiliar face." The city gate guard was a bearded dwarf wielding a one-handed battle axe that looked heavier than himself. "What are you doing in Miraba?"
Casalos took out a merchant guild document he had prepared beforehand from his pocket: "I am Taranork, an ore buyer from Waterdeep. This is my trade license."
The dwarf guard took the document and examined it carefully, then looked Casalos up and down: "Waterdeep? Your demand seems quite high lately. The entrance fee is ten gold coins (Mirabar coins, heavily adulterated with lead, the current exchange rate with Waterdeep gold coins is approximately 6.7:1), and if you want to enter the underground city, you'll have to pay an additional fifty."
"Is this price reasonable?" Casalos shook his head, reluctantly pulling out a gold coin and casually slipping a small gem into the dwarf's hand. "Is this your first time in Miraba? Is there anything I should be aware of?"
The dwarf guard, having received a tip, immediately became friendly: "Feel free to wander around the surface city, but don't cause trouble in the dwarf district. As for the underground city, remember to hire a guide, otherwise you'll be left without help if you get lost. Also, things haven't been peaceful in the city lately, so it's best not to wander around at night."
"Sigh, there's no peaceful place anywhere on this entire continent..."
Passing through the heavy city gates, the surface city of Mirabha unfolds before your eyes. Contrary to expectations, it is not a monotonous mining city, but rather brimming with unique vitality.
The main street is wide and smooth, paved with black stone slabs that have a metallic sheen—a product of a mixture of slag and special materials, which is hard, wear-resistant, and does not easily accumulate water. Most of the buildings on both sides of the street are two- to three-story stone structures, with shops on the ground floor and residences or warehouses on the upper floors.
The architectural styles are clearly divided into two types: the Shield Dwarves' buildings are low and solid, with small and deep windows and various mining-related patterns carved on the lintels; while the human buildings are relatively tall, pursuing lighting and warmth, with hardy flowers and plants transported from Neverwinter planted on the balconies.
There were many pedestrians on the street, but their composition was quite unique. Dwarf miners, dressed in work clothes covered in mineral dust, hurried between the surface and underground; human merchants, dressed in fine clothes, gathered at street corners to discuss ore prices; and occasionally, a few halflings could be seen pushing carts selling various snacks—the miners' favorite being their meat pies.
The air is filled with distinctive smells: the astringent smell of ore dust, the sulfurous smell of forging furnaces, and the aroma of wheat wafting from bakeries. These smells mix with the soft, damp air rolling down the world's ridge, creating Miraba's unique "urban atmosphere." The snowflakes condense and melt on the thermal convection of the underground furnaces, spreading into crystal-clear rime.
Casalos strolled slowly along the main street, taking in the shops on both sides. The ore trading houses were naturally the most numerous, their windows displaying various ore samples: shimmering mithril ore, deep blue adamantite rough, and some rare minerals that Casalos couldn't even name.
Besides shops selling ore, there are many other businesses serving miners and merchants. The blacksmith's shop echoes with the clanging of hammers as apprentices quench their pickaxes; leather goods shops sell all kinds of protective gear, from simple knee pads to complete sets of miners' clothing; and the apothecary's sign features a bottle of bubbling green liquid, whose "Miner's Friend" potion is said to effectively relieve lung discomfort caused by long hours working underground.
Crossing an intersection, Casalos saw one of Miraba's most important buildings—the Ore Trading Hall. It was a circular stone building, its area roughly the size of a small arena. A huge crystal chandelier hung above the main entrance, emitting a soft magical glow even in daylight. The notice board in front of the hall was densely covered with various trading information: acquisitions, sales, seeking partners...
"First time here?" A tall, thin human approached, a professional smile on his face. "Need a guide? I'm a professional transaction intermediary, familiar with all the rules and unspoken rules."
"Thank you, I was just looking around." Casalos politely declined and continued walking.
The deeper one ventures into the city, the more pronounced the differences in architectural styles become. The area near the underground entrance is almost entirely dwarven territory, with buildings that are lower and more sturdier, many carved directly into the rock face. The streets here are also narrower, clearly designed to accommodate the dwarves' physique.
A striking building caught Casalos's attention—a temple constructed entirely of crystal, shimmering with iridescent colors in the setting sun. In the plaza before the temple stood a statue of a crystal dragon. Beneath its claws, a group of dwarven miners stood guard, its wings spread like a protective barrier against the wind and rain.
"That's Mother Axe's temple," a passing dwarf miner said proudly. "Our guardian, the bravest dragon!"
Casalos nodded noncommittally. One wonders what these dwarves would think if they knew their guardian was currently letting out a suppressed growl beneath the ancient red dragon.
As the sun began to set, Casaloz finally arrived at the Hillside Ode Hotel. This building was situated in a prime location in the city, adjacent to the ore trading hall, yet maintaining a suitable distance from the bustling mining area.
The hotel itself is a four-story stone building, but unlike the surrounding rugged dwarf buildings, it is clearly meticulously designed. The exterior walls are made of polished white marble, the window frames and lintels are inlaid with copper decorations, and above the main entrance hangs a dragon head emblem surrounded by lightning bolts—the symbol of the Ratambilol Merchant Guild.
Pushing open the door, the interior immediately revealed a level of sophistication unlike anything else in Mirabar. Thick Kalinsan carpets covered the floors, oil paintings depicting landscapes from various places adorned the walls, and magical lamps provided just the right amount of lighting. Behind the reception desk stood a neatly dressed human receptionist who immediately flashed a professional smile upon seeing Casaroz enter.
"Welcome to Mid-Levels Song. Do you have a reservation?"
No, are there any rooms available?
"We're out of standard rooms, but we do have a few premium rooms available." The receptionist flipped through the register. "Single rooms are fifty gold coins per night, including breakfast. Please let us know if you require any other services."
As Casalos checked in, he observed the lobby. It was dinnertime, and the faint sounds of conversation and clinking cutlery could be heard from the restaurant. A richly dressed merchant sat on a sofa in the lobby, intently studying a seemingly complex contract. In a corner, three bards were tuning their instruments, preparing for their evening performance.
"Is a room on the third floor okay?" the receptionist asked.
"Sure." Casalos took the keys. "Is the restaurant still open?"
"Of course, we'll be open until midnight. Tonight's specialty is spiced roasted lamb leg, the chef's signature dish."
Casalos returned to his room to drop off his luggage before heading to the dining room. The room was equally elegantly furnished, with round tables covered in snow-white tablecloths and silver cutlery gleaming in the candlelight. There were only seven or eight guests in the room at the moment, mostly merchants who had come to Miraba to trade minerals, and they were mostly discussing business in hushed tones.
Casalos chose a window seat, ordered dinner, and then took out the prepared documents, pretending to study them. As a disguise, these procurement contracts were made quite realistically, even bearing the seal of the Deepwater City Chamber of Commerce.
Just then, the bards began to play. The melody was soothing and beautiful, but Casalos's attention was focused on those special combinations of notes—the code by which the bards' guild transmitted information.
"The target is in room 307. A half-elf female is there with three human attendants. She checked in seven days ago, paid the monthly rent, and her departure date is unknown."
Having confirmed the information, Casalos continued his meal without showing any emotion. Since his target was leaving tomorrow morning, breakfast would be the perfect opportunity for a "chance encounter." (The remaining text appears to be gibberish and unrelated to the previous sentences.)
After dinner, Casalos returned to his room and contacted the squad leader of the Athelon stationed in Miraba via telepathy.
"I've arrived. No need for a special visit. Has anything unusual happened in the city lately?"
"Everything is normal, my lord," the cobalt dragon's voice echoed in his mind. "The dwarves' production is as expected, and the human merchant guild has been behaving itself. However, a group of paladins from the Church of Tyre arrived a few days ago, saying they were investigating some cult activity."
"The Church of Tyre...keep an eye on things, don't expose yourselves."
After cutting off contact, Casalos stood by the window, looking down at the gradually quieting Miraba. The mining city was exceptionally peaceful in the night, with only the ore trading hall still brightly lit, its lights glowing like fireflies through the frost. The nighttime trading there was specifically for a few "special" clients; it was said that certain rare ores from the underground city were only traded at night—in reality, most of them were just natural alloys.
In the distance, torches still flickered at the main entrance to the underground city, where dwarven guards rigorously checked everyone attempting to enter the underground at night. Further still, the outline of the Hidden Forest was faintly visible in the light of Suren, a place teeming with wild beasts and monsters unwilling to approach civilization, and of course, the ever-present dragons.
"Tomorrow will be an interesting day," Casalos muttered to himself, beginning to prepare for the "chance encounter" the following day.
Night fell, and Miraba fell completely silent. Only patrolling guards carrying lanterns walked through the streets, their footsteps sounding exceptionally clear in the stillness. Occasionally, a dull thud echoed from the depths of the earth—the sound of the night shift miners still toiling away. The underground of Miraba was never truly quiet.
4. Failed attempts to pick up girls
The following morning, the smog that had enveloped Miraba mixed with the morning fog, becoming even thicker, giving Tielong a sweet, cloying feeling.
Casalos deliberately "got up" very early and chose a corner spot in the restaurant from which he could observe the entire hall. On the table was a thick stack of documents—all meticulously forged purchase contracts, their dense numbers and clauses enough to convince any observer that he was indeed a serious ore buyer.
The restaurant was already filled with early-rising merchants. A portly merchant from Baldur's Gate was loudly complaining to a waiter, "What? Iron ore prices have gone up again? It just went up last month!"
"I'm sorry, sir," the waiter said cautiously, "as you know, since Sham Shui Po has taken over most of the production capacity, the supply on the market is indeed tight..."
"What's there to be nervous about!" the fat businessman slammed his fist on the table. "It's clearly those damned dragons manipulating the market!"
A Neverwinter merchant at the next table sneered, "If you're so capable, you can go talk business with the dragons. I've heard that the prices in Deepwater Territory are fairly reasonable, but the quantities are so large that small merchants' guilds can't get involved."
"Fair?" another tall, thin man from Luskan joined the conversation. "They bought up 80% of the production, so the rest are naturally going up in price. My blacksmith shop is almost out of stock!"
Casalos pretended to study the contract while secretly assessing the situation. Deepwater Territory did indeed control nearly 80% of Miraba's metal ore exports, causing unprecedented tension in the entire Sword Coast metal resource market. However… that share wasn't even enough to fill the gap left by Deepwater Territory's high-speed construction.
As breakfast time approached, more merchants arrived. Some gathered in small groups to discuss price fluctuations, while others sat alone, frowning as they calculated their accounts. An elven merchant from Silvermoon City elegantly sliced his bread and said to his companion, "Perhaps we should consider importing from the East. Although the shipping costs are high, it's better than being ripped off here."
"The East?" His human companion shook his head. "Not only is the journey long, but have you considered the risks along the way? Besides, the quality of ores in the East varies greatly, unlike the goods from Miraba, which are of guaranteed quality."
Casalos shook his head inwardly. Even with the aid of magic, the dwarves' small-scale, manual mining was still far too inefficient. Mirabar, possessing a colossal and complex mineral vein nestled along the Spine of the World, should have been the most important mining center on the entire continent of Faerûn, but its current production capacity was completely unable to realize the value of this divinely bestowed resource.
Perhaps it's time to push for industrialization in Mirabar. As a sub-region of Deepwater Territory, if we could introduce the mature industrialized mining technology from Dragon Territory, production capacity could increase at least tenfold. This would not only meet the needs of the entire Sword Bay but also extend our influence to far beyond.
A dwarf mine owner, beer in hand, strode into the restaurant. Seeing the room full of gloomy-faced human merchants, he laughed loudly, "You bunch of cowards! So what if the price of ore went up a little? Back in my grandfather's day, a piece of fine iron could buy a house!"
"That was during wartime!" the fat businessman retorted. "Now it's peacetime, so why are prices still rising?"
The dwarf mine owner sat down at the bar: "Peace? You call this peace? The shadows still loom in the east, the orcs in the north are stirring, not to mention those cultists lurking in the shadows. If you ask me, the prices are actually quite cheap right now!"
As noon approached, the restaurant grew increasingly crowded. The businessmen's discussions escalated from simple complaints to heated debates. Someone suggested uniting to put pressure on Deepwater Territory, only to be ridiculed as overestimating their abilities; another proposed developing new mines, only to be told that the return on investment was too low; still another suggested changing careers altogether, drawing sighs of dismay.
Just as the argument reached its climax, the sound of powerful footsteps echoed down the stairs. It was the rhythm unique to a fully armored paladin—the regular sound of metal striking stone steps, each step exuding power and authority. The noise in the dining room subsided in unison.
Casalos didn't even look up, continuing to focus on the documents in his hands, only glancing at the newcomer out of the corner of his eye.
Leading the way was its target. The half-elf woman was tall and slender, her elegant figure undeniable even in heavy silver full armor. The armor's craftsmanship was exquisite; each plate was polished to a mirror-like smoothness, and the breastplate was engraved with Bahamut's emblem. The gems inlaid on the armor were not random decorations, but arranged in a complex magic circle with the graceful curves characteristic of elves, shimmering with a soft yet resolute holy light under the sunlight streaming in from the window.
What's most striking is her short, sky-blue hair, each strand as translucent as the purest sapphire, flowing smoothly against her scalp. The right side is elegantly tucked behind her ear, perfectly revealing the pointed ear characteristic of a half-elf. Three earrings, strung together by delicate silver chains, adorn her earlobes, with a perfectly cut diamond pendant hanging from the bottom, swaying gently with her steps and refracting a delicate, iridescent rainbow of light.
Her appearance inherited the refinement of elves and the gentleness of humans; her eyebrows were exquisitely shaped, her nose straight, and her thin lips, when slightly pursed, exuded a subtle air of majesty. Her indigo eyes were as deep as the starry sky, containing not only the wisdom accumulated over the years but also the unwavering conviction unique to paladins.
Following closely behind was an exceptionally handsome man with long hair, also clad in full armor, but in a dazzling gold. He possessed rare, long, silver-white hair that shimmered like flowing water in the sunlight. His steps were steady and powerful, each step revealing the perfect rhythm honed through years of training. The hilt of the longsword hanging at his waist was inlaid with a sapphire the size of a dragon's eye—the very symbol of the legendary dragon-slaying sword.
The two female paladins behind were equally well-equipped, but were noticeably younger. One was a blonde, blue-eyed human whose lively eyes revealed the enthusiasm of a newcomer; the other was a halfling-human hybrid with black hair and brown skin, whose short stature exuded a resolute spirit that rivaled anyone else's.
The four of them took their seats at a round table by the window. Following a clear hierarchy, the half-elf woman sat at the head of the table, the handsome, long-haired man in the next seat, and two young women opposite them. Sunlight streamed through the window, bathing them in its glow, illuminating their silver and gold armor and creating a sacred and beautiful scene.
Casalos put down his quill, picked up his coffee cup, and casually got up, slowly strolling over to their table.
"My esteemed paladin lady," Casalos smiled professionally and gave a slight bow, "please forgive my intrusion. In a place like Miraba, filled with mineral dust and smoke, it's truly rare to see a lady as beautiful and elegant as you."
The handsome male paladin immediately frowned, a clear displeasure flashing in his silver eyes: "Merchant, you've chosen the wrong person to approach. We are not people you can casually approach."
"It's alright, Azak." The half-elf lady raised her hand to stop her companion's rebuttal, who, though puzzled, did not say anything more.
Her voice was as melodious as a mountain spring, yet it carried an undeniable air of authority. She looked at Casalos with a friendly smile, the corners of her mouth slightly upturned: "Sir, you flatter me. However, you are not quite right—where evil lurks, there will be paladins. It has nothing to do with whether the environment is elegant or not."
"Truly worthy of being a paladin whose mission is to eradicate evil." Casalos showed an expression of admiration, then scratched his head in confusion. "But it's strange, I've been doing business in Mirabar for so many years, and I haven't heard of any evil forces causing trouble in the area recently. Ever since Waterdeep sent several dragons and an entire elite army here, even the normally ferocious beasts hiding in the forests have fallen silent and dare not show themselves easily."
He paused, then casually asked, "If it's convenient to reveal this, could you tell me exactly what kind of 'evil' you are dealing with? That way, I, a mere merchant with no strength to even kill a chicken, can make some preparations in advance."
The silver-haired paladin, known as Azak, sharpened his gaze. He leaned forward and asked in a deep voice, "Merchant, what is your purpose? Why are you inquiring about us?"
This time, the half-elf lady did not stop her companion from questioning her, but instead looked at Casalos with interest, waiting for his answer.
Casalos chuckled wryly, spreading his hands in a gesture of helplessness: "My lords, I'm just an ordinary merchant. As you can see, with my physique, how could I possibly possess your formidable strength? If a terrifying evil truly appears near Miraba, requiring four paladins to unite to defeat it, wouldn't it be better if a nobody like me knew the affected area beforehand and packed my bags to escape early on, thus saving my own life?"
"You can't expect an unarmed businessman like me to foolishly stumble into your battlefield, can you?" he added, his tone full of sincerity.
The half-elf lady suddenly chuckled, her laughter as clear as silver bells: "Mr. 'Merchant,' you certainly have a joke to tell me. If I'm not mistaken, beneath your seemingly bulky body lies a strength honed through countless battles. That sense of balance, forged only through countless combat experiences, cannot fool my eyes."
She narrowed her eyes slightly, her tone becoming meaningful: "I don't believe there's much evil on the continent of Faerûn that could truly threaten the safety of a legendary warrior."
Upon hearing this, the other three paladins all showed expressions of shock. Azak abruptly stood up, his hand already on the hilt of his sword. The two young female paladins stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the unassuming, even somewhat overweight, middle-aged merchant before them.
A legendary warrior? This seemingly harmless businessman?
Casalos sighed inwardly, maintaining a wry smile: "You flatter me too much, esteemed lady. I'm hardly a legendary warrior; just a businessman who makes a living through cunning."
"Indeed." The half-elf lady's smile deepened. "An ordinary humanoid legendary warrior probably couldn't withstand a single claw strike from you now." She paused, her indigo eyes meeting Casalos's directly. "You agree, Your Excellency Casalos?"
The air in the restaurant seemed to freeze at that moment.
The two young female paladins exclaimed almost simultaneously, "You...you are...!"
They were all too familiar with that name—the current de facto ruler of a vast area from Waterdeep to Baldur's Gate, the uncrowned king of Sword Coast, the legendary Iron Dragon Lord!
"Well, you recognized me again, Ms. Hevilan." Casalos sighed helplessly, deciding to drop the pretense. "Actually, I'm quite curious. Last time on the Churt Peninsula, I was in the form of a brass dragon, so I could understand why you recognized me. After all, I couldn't really imitate that incessant chatter of a brass dragon; the flaws were obvious. But this time, I thought my disguise was flawless. From appearance to demeanor, from speech to manners, I was a perfect Sword Coast merchant. How did you recognize me then?"
"Of course it's a guess," Haiweilan replied casually.
"Guess?" Casalos looked skeptical. "Excuse me for being frank, but that reason is a bit..."
"Unbelievable?" Havilland continued, "Don't worry, it's not a problem with magic or behavior. Your disguise is truly flawless. In another place, at another time, I wouldn't find any flaws in this 'merchant' identity."
She picked up her teacup, took a sip, and continued, "But you've already considered this your territory, haven't you? Azak and I have stayed here for seven whole days, and those little dragons responsible for 'protecting' Miraba have also been secretly observing us for seven days. Shouldn't you show yourself now?"
Casalos was speechless. He hadn't expected this being to be so insightful; was this the wisdom of the ancient silver dragon?
"So," Havilland put down her teacup, her expression becoming formal, "what brings Lord Casalos here today?"
"First and foremost, I must express my gratitude for your past assistance." Casalos's relaxed expression also vanished. "If it weren't for your intervention on the Churt Peninsula, the outcome of my battle with that green dragon lich would have been quite uncertain."
"That's what every paladin would do," Hevilan replied calmly. "Evil should be purified, regardless of whether the opponent is a dragon lich or anything else. And what about the others?"
Casalos took a deep breath: "At the dragon's behest, I wish to make a deal with you."
"I guess," Havilland's eyes deepened, "that it was Klaus who sent you to make this deal."
Upon hearing this, Azak slammed his fist on the table and roared, "We absolutely cannot compromise with that evil red dragon!"
Unlike their previous hushed conversations that went unnoticed, the paladin's roar shocked everyone in the restaurant: Klaus, a name that had recently loomed over Miraba and the entire Sword Coast like a shadow.
The two young female paladins also showed expressions of anger, clearly deeply abhorring Old Roar's evil deeds.
Hevilan remained silent, simply gazing at Casalos and awaiting his response.
"Sigh, don't be so absolute." Casalos glanced at the excited Azak, then looked around at the whispering crowd in the restaurant: "Lord Azak, judging by your age, you've lived for at least eight hundred years. After all this time, how come you're still so impulsive, like a fledgling dragon that's just shed its juvenile form?"
He turned to Hevilan: "Excuse my bluntness, but if you truly intend for him to succeed you as the next leader of the Claw of Justice, you should let him engage in more independent operations. Especially, let him gain experience in human society in human form. Otherwise, with his extremely honest and straightforward personality, he'll inevitably be sold out by those cunning 'people,' and end up counting the money for them."
Azak glared angrily, his silver vertical pupils almost spitting fire, but he managed to restrain his impulse and prevent the incident from escalating into a violent conflict. The two young female paladins couldn't help but cover their mouths and chuckle—they privately also felt that Lord Azak was indeed sometimes too straightforward.
"He's just a little impulsive," Havilland gently defended Azak, then steered the conversation back on track, "So, my guess was right? Old Hou asked you to be his mediator. You two got into a fight, and then you became 'friends'?"
Her tone was laced with sarcasm: "Do you even know what it has done?"
Of course I know, because I was basically the one who did it all! Casalos, of course, wouldn't say that; he simply nodded seriously. "We wouldn't call ourselves friends, but we did have an alliance. It wasn't a formal contract, but upholding it is my code of conduct—it's in my nature, and it's something I insist on."