You take a steadying breath and produce a shimmering scroll sealed with moon-petal wax. 'Your Excellency, I happen to have exclusive access to the ancient elven treasury bonds recently uncovered in the Ruins of Sylvanost. The Silverleaf Consortium is quietly offering them to select investors.'

Valthorix's nostrils flare as he snatches the scroll midair, melting the delicate wax seal with a careless ember. His eyes narrow at the luminous runes detailing the bond terms. 'These rates... 34% if the Twilight Court reclaims their ancestral lands?'

'Precisely,' you say, watching a ruby the size of your head roll dangerously close to your shoes. 'High risk, certainly. The elven rebels haven't held territory in three centuries. But if their current campaign succeeds...'

The dragon's tail twitches with predatory interest, sending a geyser of coins skyward. You duck as a golden chalice whizzes past your ear. 'Grimscale wouldn't dare touch these,' Valthorix muses, smoke curling from his jaws. 'That coward still invests in... what was it? Dwarven water rights?'

Your enchanted quill leaps into action, sketching a comparative yield projection across a levitating slate. The numbers shimmer enticingly beside Grimscale's mundane portfolio. Beneath your feet, the volcanic rumbling shifts to something resembling thoughtful purring.