The wind howled, and dark clouds hung low, casting a hush over the large tent. This was the moment that would determine the fate of the north, as the flickering campfire illuminated each solemn face.
Xiulote scrutinized General Jiowar for a while. Then, he pondered for a moment before looking towards the elder Priest.
"Priest Olte, what kind of alliance do you wish to forge? Alliance, city-state, or personal?"
Priest Olte was well-prepared. He spoke loudly,
"All three, a brotherhood pact if you will. The Mexica Alliance as the elder brother, the Otomi Alliance as the younger, the Holy City as the elder, Otapan City as the younger, you as the elder, and Jiowar as the younger brother. Both sides will establish a pact, maintaining harmony with one another. When one is under attack, the other must send troops to assist; when one goes on the offensive, the other has the duty to support!"
Hearing this, Bertade's complexion changed dramatically. He stepped forward and rebuked loudly,