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Description

Featuring Farron, mentioning Lord Barnaby, Lord Connor, and Princess Amara
Winter, Year 766 of the New Age
Lord Barnaby'a Glade, Glenmore

Filth.

That's what the Royals were to Farron. Disgusting and weak filth that was better off feeble minded and unsuspecting. Of course, the dainty stag would never break his facade of ignorance- no, the stag never acted dumb and he would never let on how conniving he was. A cruel look was on his maw as he had returned from something he never thought was doable for a Princess of all the types of royalty. Princesses were mated to one and that was that... but he himself had just covered a fat one in the name of unbreakable secrecy.

A secret Farron was tickled silly to be the holder of. No, he couldn't tell anyone but he was excited that he had such delicious and filthy information. For a pure princess and a Lord of a good lineage to come to him, Farron a lowly Butler, for such a thing… it was outright diabolical. He would not have any part in the fawn’s life for obvious reasons and that didn't bother the pale and frail stag one little bit. In fact, it was better that way. He would surely sneak a peek once, but fawns were a burden; filthy, stupid little pests who only grew into bigger neanderthals.

Farron curled up in his little den off the side of Lord Barnaby’s glade, a living quarters as he was expected to be on site at all times to Barnaby’s beck and call. The bay Lord was not as stupid as Farron expected nevertheless Farron lived by the code that all royals were stupid. It became clearer to the pale stag when there were delicious rumors snaking about that their own hard-headed and fierce King was losing his few marbles.

Delicious.

Though Farron was not aware, he had one hell of a complex. He wanted everyone under his hoof. Under his control. His false sense of power was what made him “powerful”, in his own words. He would keep silent and do his work dutifully, but he never feigned any form pleasantries. He would not smile, he would not say his please and thank you's. He would merely keep… stoic. It made him greatly unpopular with Lords and especially Ladies as they all seemed to demand a form of goody-goody from their servants that he would not perform. Instead, he did as he was told without a word.

Silent.

Invisible.

Farron greened the grass of his bed, letting his tendrils of magic flow through the grass of winter, making the dark inside of his den green comfortably. One day he was going to make himself known- he would rat out the biggest secret. Not of his Princess scandal, though surely something larger… something more… destructive.

Description

Featuring Farron, mentioning Lord Barnaby, Lord Connor, and Princess Amara
Winter, Year 766 of the New Age
Lord Barnaby'a Glade, Glenmore

Filth.

That's what the Royals were to Farron. Disgusting and weak filth that was better off feeble minded and unsuspecting. Of course, the dainty stag would never break his facade of ignorance- no, the stag never acted dumb and he would never let on how conniving he was. A cruel look was on his maw as he had returned from something he never thought was doable for a Princess of all the types of royalty. Princesses were mated to one and that was that... but he himself had just covered a fat one in the name of unbreakable secrecy.

A secret Farron was tickled silly to be the holder of. No, he couldn't tell anyone but he was excited that he had such delicious and filthy information. For a pure princess and a Lord of a good lineage to come to him, Farron a lowly Butler, for such a thing… it was outright diabolical. He would not have any part in the fawn’s life for obvious reasons and that didn't bother the pale and frail stag one little bit. In fact, it was better that way. He would surely sneak a peek once, but fawns were a burden; filthy, stupid little pests who only grew into bigger neanderthals.

Farron curled up in his little den off the side of Lord Barnaby’s glade, a living quarters as he was expected to be on site at all times to Barnaby’s beck and call. The bay Lord was not as stupid as Farron expected nevertheless Farron lived by the code that all royals were stupid. It became clearer to the pale stag when there were delicious rumors snaking about that their own hard-headed and fierce King was losing his few marbles.

Delicious.

Though Farron was not aware, he had one hell of a complex. He wanted everyone under his hoof. Under his control. His false sense of power was what made him “powerful”, in his own words. He would keep silent and do his work dutifully, but he never feigned any form pleasantries. He would not smile, he would not say his please and thank you's. He would merely keep… stoic. It made him greatly unpopular with Lords and especially Ladies as they all seemed to demand a form of goody-goody from their servants that he would not perform. Instead, he did as he was told without a word.

Silent.

Invisible.

Farron greened the grass of his bed, letting his tendrils of magic flow through the grass of winter, making the dark inside of his den green comfortably. One day he was going to make himself known- he would rat out the biggest secret. Not of his Princess scandal, though surely something larger… something more… destructive.