Albert Litchfield the Fourth's page

Albert looks to Yalonde, and clears his throat.

"My name is Albert Litchfield the Fourth. Eldest son of Belvast Litchfield, and outcast of Cheliax. I am pleased to make your acquaintance miss Yalonde." Albert introduces himself, bowing his head in traditional Chelaxian style. "It would appear that we Tieflings are a bird of a feather here. Many of us hailing from Cheliax and being cast out or hidden away from the public's eye. My condolences to any trouble your heritage has brought you in our homeland."

Albert reaches over to the pile of books he had been carrying and procures the top one, labelled: "Demons, Devils, Daemons; Fiends of the Great Beyond". He flips to a marked page and begins reading, his scaled black tail swishing at his feet.

"If you wish to pursue further conversation I am capable of paying heed to the conversation and responding where necessary while I read." Albert notes, the glow of his eyes dulling slightly.

An aged Tiefling whose darkened skin and bright eyes are shadowed by the dark hood of his robe enters the entrance hall from one of the stacks with a few books in arms. Overhearing Miss Malicdor, he sighs audibly.

"And thus is the backwards ideals of Cheliax. Backwards. People with the potential for greatness shut away, exiled, or killed simply because of their heritage. Pathetic. An utter waste. But I suppose that, in a way, my family is truly a great representation of that." Albert seats himself on a chair, his aged muscles shaking under the weight of his anger. "A man born with the mind to lead his house into greatness must pass it up due to his fiendish heritage, and his idiot brother makes a utter bloody mess of everything instead." He seethes, setting the stack of books on a table beside the chair. The faint smell of smoke seems to waft through the room as Albert sighs deeply. "Cheliax needs reformation. It needs to become more accepting of those born as Tieflings of any sort, it needs to rely less on the powers of devilry and Infernal Pacts, and more on the strength and potential of its citizens. Even if the general management of the government were the same, at least a change from the racial intolerance and forced reverence to Asmodeus would be ideal." At this point Albert has waned to a raised whisper, his attention being drawn to something else.

He suddenly shoots the Dwarven newcomer a look that could melt steel. "This is not an alehouse, there is no bar, if you require an alcoholic beverage, I would suggest a temple to Cayden Cailean, not the Dark Archives."