A Letter From Elero

Lord Mech strutted at the head of the meeting table, off-handedly displaying a portion of the fine silks and linen that his city was capable of producing. He was no model. He was not fat nor skinny, and the stress of the past few weeks alone had earned him a few more streaks of gray in his beard. He theorized that, despite his lacking features, only good eyes would notice the quality of his garments, simple they might have been. Good eyes meant good business.

"The Fracture has caused a change in the winds," Lord Mech began, sweeping his gaze across the representatives before him. "As winter recedes, the people usually go to the market. Why is this? It is because their food storages have run dry and they need seeds to sow their fields.