[Malkaer Andares]

What Archalen did not know was that his brother had also lived the majority of his life as a commoner. Moranor had secured the House’s entrance into the Imperial nobility just a decade ago. Only these last few eras Malkaer had refined his posture, mannerism and dress. It could be argued whether the scarred elf was just skillful at adapting to new situations or if he had always carried dignity in his blood. The son of Astartus insisted on the latter, but he knew deep inside it was only half true.

He had a complicated view of the old Aelyrian nobility. On the one hand the elven lord respected them for their cultured taste. On the other he envied them because they had something he could never attain: a noble history. Lastly the former Alyssan also despised the old nobility for giving up their military power. Malkaer did not have respect for an unarmed person. A noble without a sword was only a noble in so far those with swords allowed him to be.

The host smiled wryly at his brother's drink request. "We don't have much of the local brew", Malkaer would not go so far as to call the grape based alcoholic beverages of Sherian wine. "It is rather crude compared to the Charismean wines of Enamoria or even the Nuryondi's from Prime, but my taste might be biased as I grew up with the soft whites from Ieffreon. I guess some people consider the Sherianites to have 'character'."

"Emaedran, do we still have one of those Fireside House reds from 5 Post Fractum?" It was quite the headstrong bugger. Malkaer only drank it to get drunk after he had already downed a few glasses good wine. "I believe we do, my Lord." That said the butler disappeared to return with a bottle which he opened before the gentlemen. Since the wine came from the cellar it still had to reach the correct temperature and could not yet be poured into the glasses.

Whilst waiting they could talk business. Malkaer nodded. "The city government has been reaching out to find a good loan for the manufactory, but we found that traditional institutions such as banks consider it a risky investment. Not particularly because they doubt the project itself. They just fear the repercussions of the political climate of Sherian itself on business life. It is not that they are unwilling to provide a loan; they just back away because of the size and ask too much interest."

"Taralon needs somewhere between a hundred and hundred-fifty thousand crowns. Can Imperia provide that?" Malkaer asked before delving into the height of the interest.