TPR14

-- 200 years ago… -- All in sight was charred and ablaze. Red caverns and trails of fire overlooked a kingdom in the Underworld. The residents: imps. The red-skinned beings roamed the streets in a somewhat civil manner, though an occasional skirmish would break out. The imps that inhabit this land are no more than a couple feet tall, and mostly thin. The attire worn by this class of demon is mostly black, and varies depending on individual tastes. Just outside the east gate of the kingdom is a tent owned by an elderly traveler. Demons would visit the traveler’s tent in search of valuable items from across the lower realms. Entering the tent was a young imp named Lazarus, wearing cleaner clothing and a golden pendant. Curious, he set foot in the tent, and the traveler responded upon the first step. “A noble has wandered into my domain,” he spoke from the shadows. “How did you know,” Lazarus responded, “Father spoke of your tent, but until today I have never entered...” “You seek