"Not at all-Greenest is much too small in wealth or population to support a Lord of your stature. It's a small farming village, really, and recovering from a vicious raid by those we just rescued from." Johanna said, deciding the man was immune to irony after all. "When we get there, perhaps might be recognized, however-they might be able to point you toward your own demesne."
"An excellent proposition, miss! But, I must ask, how did you recognize me as nobility? I do not look regal like this, all covered in filth and fungus. By the by, who leads Greenest? Perchance the name will ring a bell, if they are one of my vassals," he ponders, brushing his hair into a very slightly more dignified look.
Arwen chuckles, thinking this man is probably either a lunatic, or a lesser noble. He offers him a ride astride Rex, giving Alice a pat on the head. "May I offer your Lordship a ride atop my trusted companion, Rex?"
Arwen rolls knowledge on Bezygot too.
The halfling eyes Rex nervously. "I must say that I am impressed that you managed to tame such a creature, sir knight, I must turn down your kind offer. It is clearly a beast of war, not of burden, and I dare not treat it otherwise, lest it turn its maw upon me. Anyway, the walk will do me good."
(Arwen's Religion: 20+2)
Bezygot is a supposedly rather minor Baernaloth, or daemonliege, an ancient progenitor of the third family of fiends; yugoloths. Arwen's uncle once attempted contact with Bezygot, and was even going to let Arwen watch, but his mother found out, and gave her brother a royal talking to. Before Arwen had been dragged away, he had managed to learn a few things; Bezygot was a master of contradictions and paradoxes, dealing with mortals through confusion, never the force favored by demons, or the deceit mastered by devils. If one were to contact him, it would take a master philosopher to carry a conversation that both parties would fully understand. Baernaloths are mysterious creatures, with any information on them often contradicting itself. All that is known for certain is that are some of the universe's best schemers.
Mirella smiles slightly to herself as the others take the lead in dealing with the noble, content to leave it to the experts.
May as well make the same Religion rolls; aside from making the GM pop, it seems like a suitable thing for the cleric to roll
(Mirella's Religion: 8+4)
Bezygot is a name that archaically incorporates both the Abyssal and Infernal tongues, the languages of fiends. It's distinctly not the name of a demon or a devil; a name like that would be exclusively Abyssal or Infernal. By process of elimination, this suggests that Bezygot is a yugoloth, the unaffiliated mercenaries of the fiendish world. Yugoloths are manipulative, secretive, and mercenary by nature, often acting as soldiers for deities in their own private wars, or even at times aiding both sides of the Blood War.
Johanna rolls knowledge on Bezygot too.
Lord Underbough rolls knowledge on Bezygot too. Is that a sort of fine cheese?
(Johanna's Religion: 19+4)
Johanna still remembers the inscription on the first page of the required text for Demonology 101: Introduction to the Fiends:
Trust a demon to always try and kill you.
Trust a devil to always try and trick you.
Never trust a daemon.
Bezygot is creature as old as the gods, half as powerful, and a hundred times more dangerous. Bezygot is a Baernaloth, a fiend that rules over the rulerless daemons, properly known as Yugoloths. Little is known for certain about Bezygot, but stories about his always contain impossibilities; an arrow that can never truly reach its target, statements that, themselves, claim to be false, and boulders created by the gods so large, even its creators could not move them. Whatever this elf is doing here, he is part of a greater, incomprehensible plan, and, by extension, so are you.
(Lord Underbough's Religion: ???)
Bezygot is not a cheese, you
uncultured swine. It's one of the products of Underbough Abbey; one of the finest wines in the world. The grapes are crushed barefoot by halfling nuns, stored in barrels of alder, and aged for at least half a century. Only four people know the exact process, and they are not allowed to all be in the same county at once.