We deliver grain, machines, and vehicles to the elves. They give us magical stones. We bet on technology, the elves on magic. The Russian Empire accepts everyone; the elves consider themselves the Chosen.
But the first embassy will be opened in the kingdom of Arcanor. And anyone trying to stop it should think twice.
I have served Death for a thousand years, and never have I craved peaceful life as much as now. But, as no one else, I know: if you want peace, prepare for war.
And that’s why I’m ready. And you, pointy-eared ones—are you ready?