Sterling/Stereotypes

Lord Sterling Speaks on the Kiths

On Boggans: Cheerful, hardworking, and kindly folk. One can certainly do worse than to employ these good-hearted fae in their service. Though one would also do well to mind what is said when a boggan is in earshot, unless one does not mind all their dirty laundry being aired for all and sundry.

On Clurichauns: Ah, they're not such bad folk! They might always be spoiling for a fight, but so long as one gives them proper respect and does not try to meddle with their prized collections, they're quite good company.

On Eshu: Oh how I envy these Kithain! Free to travel wherever the winds of Fortuna might blow them, and always getting into the most fantastical adventures! It's well and good that they're as able storytellers as they are travelers. Give them a place at your table, and your evening's entertainment is assured.

On Nockers: If one can dismiss their penchant for foul language and their dreadful temperament, one cannot ask for a better craftsman than the nockers. Pay them what they're worth, and give them their space to work, and you shan't regret it.

On Piskies: Forgive them for their thievery--they mean no harm by it. They're good Kithain at heart, and one would do well to give them comfort and shelter when they arrive at one's door. They tend to be a touch on the delicate side, thus a little protection goes a long way with the piskies.

On Pooka: Yes, it is true that one cannot take a pooka at their word. This doesn't make them bad at all. They are the very spirit of youth, and thus makes them among the most stalwart champions of our Dream. Sure, their pranks can often verge on annoying, but the pooka do a stellar job at reminding us all to laugh once in awhile.

On Redcaps: Hrumph. Well. I'll be the first to freely admit that nightmares have their place among the prettier and more pleasant dreams. But do they really have to take it out on the rest of us?

On Satyrs: Ahh, how like unto my own noble House are the children of Pan! So full of fire, vim, and passion they are! There's few things better than satyr music at a gathering. And if one can look past their more goatish attributes, one will rarely find a better lover with whom to spend a night. Trust me. (Here, Lord Sterling grins and tips a sly wink. )

On Arcadian Sidhe: There are times when I feel like I will never understand this world, not even having lived a human life for all of twenty-five years. Even so, this is all we have left of our Dream. It's not our world, and so it falls to us to earn our place in it.

On Autumn Sidhe: They stayed behind while the rest of us fled. I cannot help but wonder why I did not. Was I truly so craven in my vanished past? I find it impossible to fathom, and yet... the fact remains that I was exiled, while they have spent the years earning their place in this world. They have much to offer us, and one would be wise to gladly accept their counsel.

On Sluagh: I feel for these darkling fae. They live in a world of shadows and whispers, and others shun them through no fault of their own. Their knowledge and secrets are often valuable, and they are worth cultivating as friends. Everyone can use a friend, even these poor loners.

On Trolls: Stalwart and strong, with hearts of steel as great as the mountains that birthed them. They are ideals of honor and nobility. One who would claim noble title and privilege would do well to learn from their fine example.

Lord Sterling Speaks on the Houses

On the Beaumayn: When a Dark Star speaks, one would be wise to listen. Their prophecies and omens are often of some import, and their skill at sniffing out and hunting down the Dark-kin is without peer.

On the Dougal: The Smiths are a hardy bunch. Their talents for craftsmanship rivals that of nockers, and they're just as dependable to boot.

On the Eiluned: The Sorcerers make me scratch my head. Why do they feel the need to deceive their own? Are the magical secrets they uncover truly worth that kind of dishonesty?

On the Gwydion: At their best, the Falcons are a shining example of what it means to be noble. At their worst, they are bloodthirsty maniacs who must be restrained. And Graces, they will insist on having necks stiffer than an iron rod!

On the Liam: I do not begrudge the Monks their favor of mortal men and women. The issue I take is that their favor turned humanity against us, and taught them to fear the fae. That I cannot readily dismiss.

On the Scathach: One dismisses the Gray Walkers at their peril. They may be Autumn sidhe, but they are still sidhe, and there are few who can match their skill with the blade. One would be wise not to anger a house with such skill at both swordplay and silence.

On the Aesin: One must give credit to the Northmen for abandoning outmoded customs and practices. But would it really kill them to loosen up a bit? Perhaps even learn a manner or two?

On the Ailil: Oh, the poor Dragons. How desperately they yearn to be the master schemers and plotters they believe themselves to be. Yet give their plots one good look and the slightest of nudges, and they collapse like the house of cards that they are.

On the Balor: Graces be good! How did this mongrel line of monsters ever come to claim the status of a Great House? They're worse than redcaps!

On the Danaan: Wait, Pathfinders are real</>? Well, bless my beard, one learns something new every day!

On the Daireann: The Hosts are another curiosity. They hew to the Black Rose, and yet claim to stand for honor. Even so, their hospitality is without match. Just be mindful while in their homes. Their reputation as poisoners of those who offend them is well deserved.

On the Leanhaun: They represent our hunger for Glamour at its most vile. The fact that they treat their Dreamers like junk food sickens me. Muses my ass. Locusts, more like.

On the Varich: I pity the Weavers. To spend their days living a life without love? I cannot imagine a fate more cruel. That they wallow in jaded bitterness makes them all the more pitiable.

Lord Sterling Speaks on the Prodigals

On Vampires: How these wretched, manipulative, predatory things have become figures of romance I shall never understand.

On Werewolves: It's said that my own noble House shares ties of blood-kinship with an Irish tribe of werewolves. Though beyond that, I know little and less.

On Magi: That these folk wield such powerful arts with such seeming ease, I find both inspiring and worrisome. And yet, I cannot help but wonder... what do they dream of?

On Wraiths: Tragic echoes of memory and grief. Would that I could help them move on so that they might find rest and renewal in a new life.

On the Fallen: Hrumph. Your wiles tempt me not, fallen one. We are the rightful lords of this world, not you. Get thee behind me.

On the Mortal: Without them, we are nothing. Without them, we starve. All that we are, our very Dream itself, is born from them. Our Dream is their Dream, and one would do well to keep this in mind at all times.