Uther Bowman's expression didn't change.
He was the purest embodiment of the Diplomats' creed. He built power not through open force, but through carefully cultivated alliances.
Every favor he granted came with invisible strings, every arrangement layered with contingencies meant to keep others dependent on him.
Yet beneath the polished diplomacy lay something colder.
Bowman was a true machiavellian, viewing loyalty as a tool and ideals as conveniences rather than principles. He didn't believe in right or wrong, only outcomes.
When he heard the gnome's voice dripping with mockery, he didn't lose his composure. He smiled faintly in return and offered a nod.
"Welcome to the Council of Dawn, Lord Glynhorn," he said in a warm voice. "My name is Uther Bowman. I am pleased to finally meet you."
