@jay1x1rpblog
If there were someone the king could sympathize with, it was the halflings. The satyr knew first-hand what it felt like to be ridiculed, teased for something you had no control over - the dragonborn thought he was little more than cattle, humans thought he was an abomination and mages saw their horns as something precious for their spell-casting. It was why his kingdom had become a bit of a safe haven for the halflings of the world, those that didn’t quite fit in anywhere, and it was why he found himself heading to the home of a half-elf - one that was rumored to know a vast deal of information.
“Can you help me?” the king asked the half-elf, keeping himself cloaked to conceal his identity - people didn’t know that the king needed help... not with what he was asking the other for. “In your tombs... have you heard anything about why one cannot conceive a child?”















