All that glittered was, in fact, gold-- so claimed Lux the Liar. It was this core principle which governed their every day. Everything had a value-- even trust, even faith, even life-- and that value could be measured in coin. It was for coin that they came to the dungeons, penniless and unwelome in the cozy fishing village of their birth. Why they would never say. The folk of their old home did not speak their name save as a sort of curse. When asked, none would confess to sharing blood with them. They sprung from the ground like a weed, cursed and cruel as anything, never to be trusted. Which was precisely how they liked it.