*overheard in a tavern of ill repute, a feather hatted, executioner masked madman and a goblin chieftain share a beer*
Farros: "So Nonac, you got any kids?"
Nonac": "yup, about 30 or so, we a BIG tribe!"
Farros: "Ha! well back in my day, all the concerts I played coast to coast, must have been a hundred or more little Farros' crawling about. THOUSANDS mind you, far as the eye can see. Got hard keeping track of them all, haven't met one yet really. Been a lot easier now ever since Aeriden and Corath battled and prevented tiefling children from being born into the world..."
Nonac: "ummm, wasn't that like, decades and decades ago? long time no?"
Farros: "Egads lad, what millenia is this again? You're right! You know what this means don't you?"
Nonac: "That there be a legion of geratric little Lord Dominos lurking about, growed up bitter without a daddy, seeking father figures and child support well into their nineties?"
Farros: "EXACTLY!" *drinks* "Now you know why I wear a mask all the time!"
