The Cheery Baron isn't good at waiting. He folds his arms over his ample belly, huffing until it's his turn to speak. Then he stamps forward and addresses you in a voice that silences the hall.
His mask is a smiling porcelain youth. They say it was cast from his own face in his prime.
"The bandit-chiefs have called a council." "If the bickering devils forget they hate each other, Serault's roads will run red."
"My lands are plagued by rumors of apostacy." "Bandits and beasts I can deal with, but sorcery?" he grimaces. "I thought given your family history-" here he winks, heavily, "-you'd be better informed to deal with it." Subtle.
→Rumors of Apostacy
"On my way here I overheard these curs impugn your honor." He shoves three peasants to their knees before you. "Go on! Tell your joke again. Lets see if the Marquis finds it funny." The peasants quail.
→Quick Wit in Low Places
"Am I to be summoned at the griping of a handful of lazy peasants?" He's irate, but you've heard troubling reports of the conditions on one of his vassal's estates.
→A Life of Toil