Sometimes, Beltip needs to blend in while doing business in the city. The guard has gotten far more tolerant of the smaller demonic types.
Than again, generally anyone that sees a bipedal horned and hooved rabbit on fire usually responds by immediately ignoring it’s presence until it goes away. On the grounds that trying to understand ‘Why’ causes intense headaches.
He looks adorable.
Let’s see… family history.
Dull. It’s full of this person connived their way to this social rank of nobility. A life saved here (blessed be the sell sword) from the savage bandits. A plot foiled there (blessed be also the fact that our sort sacrifices one for the glory of the other) and good once again prevails. While this person married into this family and poisoned this spouse after being provided with heirs to continue the family name. And this person was put to death for a failed coup that on paper was meant to be bloodless and instead was quite messy.
But cannot forget, another set of twins.
Our name is old. Quite old. As it should be if one takes into the account of meddling and meshing. Our exploits generally do not make their way into the history books seeing as usually the failures aren’t lauded as memorable business or troubadour material.
Sadly, these days the majority of the family isn’t quite what I would call ‘surviving members’ or productive branches on our family tree, seeing as the number of uncles and aunts and such were either cut down by the Orcish invasion. Brought down by plague or zealot.
Funny story that. We avoided the plague at first, Father had never been one for the city proper outside of business, kept to ourselves, kept our larders stocked - and likely the demons bound to Tiberious Thornwood were an added protection. Refused to flee and instead his reward for trying to protect the estate from the ravages on the land while sending his two children away to safer climes?
Hung by lunatics and burned.
And of course the collection of cousins there to greet the Prince on his return hoping to gain some bit of favor and instead… well, we all know the end of that particular story, don’t we?
…Father got up around that time.
He should have stayed down, our land is gone, our home is gone and as he puts in his own particular manner. “Everything is far too disappointing”
But oh, what am I babbling about? Of course we all know this is nothing more than another round of lies, isn’t it?