Gethras's serene visage turned to observe the young pair of Dragonborn and Dragonkin, his eyes twinkling, "We will have to wait until Bhelen arrives before we can begin talking in earnest, but some introductions would be practical." The Wood Elf King smiled, closing his book and replacing it on a shelf before beginning his next sentence, "I will go first. I am Gethras Graythius, sovereign of Felneserin. I have other titles but they are unnecessary and only serve to waste time. I am pleased to make your acquaintance, young Dragonborn and dragonling."
The duo of Luca and Arcturus gave polite bows to the Wood Elf King, the former speaking for both of them, "Greetings, Your Majesty Graythius. It is our honour to make yours. We are the Dragonborn Luca and the Stellar Dragon Arcturus." The manners of the young pair surprised the three sovereign rulers who hadn't experienced it before. Only Arthur did not react, but that's because he wasn't one of the three.
Nesine, who once again should have been the first to speak, sighed and began her introduction, "We've already met before, but this is our first proper face-to-face meeting. As you already know, I am Nesine Atheys, sovereign of Cyelume and host for this unexpected gathering."
"It is our pleasure to speak with you again, Your Majesty Atheys." The pair once again bowed gracefully.
A mild rumble came from the chest of the Lion Tribesman as he spoke, "I can't very well not introduce myself after others have... I am Rhonin Aslan, sovereign of the Beastlands and chief of the Lion Tribe." The pair of young boys repeated their greetings, receiving a rare look of respect from the leonine ruler.
As soon as their greetings had concluded, a greatly awful stench wafted through the magical doorway to the Sovereign Teleportation Array, causing the two boys to gag. The four adults sighed, having long since gotten used to it. Accompanied by the overwhelming odour of ale came a stocky man barely shorter than Luca, beard and hair matted and tangled from a lack of care, among other things. The dwarf man stomped into the room, releasing a surprisingly loud belch, his eyes covered in a drunken glaze. Whatever his outfit was supposed to be was now so stained from alcohol and food that it looked more like a beggar's outfit. This grotesque excuse for a man was, in fact, Bhelen Durnoch, the Dwarf King of Kharnboldohr, and the only dwarf ruler that bore the subclass of Berserker. Sadly, that was overshadowed by his infamous title, Drunken Disgrace.
While the poor boys did their best to recover from the onslaught of noxious air, Arthur Valar used his immense self-control to resist the urge to punch the dwarf. The only sign of this desire was his left eye occasionally twitching, something that he'd picked up after decades of interaction with the worthless excuse of a king.
Nesine sighed, "Nice of you to show up, Bhelen. I thought you'd drink yourself into oblivion before you'd manage to arrive." Yet again, she recalled several scenarios where the Dwarf King had indeed managed to drink himself into a blackout right after being called to a meeting. Each time delayed the meeting further, often leading to one of the three other male rulers to flip their lid. She addressed the two boys next, "Knowing him, he's barely focused on anything right now, so I'll do the introduction for him. He is Bhelen Durnoch, sovereign of Kharnboldohr." She did not allow the two to greet the dwarf, using her sharp tongue to deliver a vicious blow to the dwarf's mind, "He is slightly more than useless and can't do anything other than wallow in his past glory and feast like a slob. In fact, this meeting would be better without him despite the fact that Kharnboldohr is deeply involved."
The Dwarf King understood the High Elf Queen's words, giving her a hazy glare, "At least I'm not a-urrp-an uptight bitch... that doesn't under-urrp-stand another race's urp culture..." Whenever he spoke, short burps broke through his speech, only causing the noxious odour of alcohol to grow.
"Oh no, I'm fully aware of your dwarven culture. I'm also very clear on how your own people view you: incompetent, tyrant, corrupt, avaricious, plastered, fool, battle junkie, disgrace. If not for your strength and the capabilities of your wife, you would have been ousted by the Senate years ago." Nesine referred to the major government body called the Senate, a council of various dwarven clan leaders and various influential individuals, such as the Adjudicator, the person responsible for upholding the laws, the Chief Lawkeeper, who kept and recorded each and every law and rule put forth by the Senate or the sovereign, and the Chief Chronicler, who recorded and kept all events, minor and major, so that no knowledge was ever lost. While the sovereign sat at the head of the Senate, they did not hold the final say, as some had been impeached by the government body. Nesine was right in saying that his strength and his wife were all that kept him from being impeached.
As Bhelen was about to speak, Luca bravely cut in with a loud voice, reciting information as if from a written text, "4:53 Divine, August 11th, unspecified time. Bhelen Durnoch, Lv 15 Berserker and sovereign of Kharnboldohr perished. According to witnesses, and the Chief Chronicler himself, the dwarven ruler had long since reached a point beyond all help after having caused the death of his own wife during a particularly heavy bout of intoxication the previous year. Riots began breaking out as the king's corrupted taxing reached a new high, even managing to clean several clans out of money on a whim, on top of forcing innocent people to plead guilty on crimes they had never committed due to having heard tell of them speaking ill of his rule. At the time of his death, the king was had thoroughly cleansed the government bodies of any naysayers and celebrated by downing no less than fourteen barrels of Snapdragon Whiskey that he'd taken from clans previously.
"In his drunken haze, the king was unable to restrict his strength and led himself to destroy anything in his surroundings simply by touching them, killing anyone that got too close to him whether or not he even noticed them, and made his way to one of the cliff edges of the Deepstone Abyss near the palace. His haze caused him to hallucinate a Dragon Clansman challenging him, according to those within earshot of his powerfully augmented voice and decided to leap towards it with an empty barrel in his arms. As he fell, deliriously believing himself to have won, he laughed in a triumphant manner for several minutes before suddenly cutting off. As many dwarves rushed around to clean up the aftermath, a dwarf who had managed to raise a Stonecrawler, a beast capable of climbing on any solid surface, had his pet climb down the abyss to find the king. At the bottom of several hundred meters were several enormous spires of stone weathered with age and littered with time-addled remains. At the top of one of the spires was the body of Bhelen, his face frozen in a look of hysterical joy as his body was speared through the chest. Due to the king's tyrannical rule, even if he could have been saved, no one was willing."