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asked: *fiddles around with my tail* why do they call you Prince of rejects? >>

That's actually a very good question! You see, after my mother died in the Spooky Forest and I was alone there, I wandered around for days, searching for food, water, and hopefully an answer. It was not very long before I came to a stream where this young girl was knelt over the riverbed, studying a lizard that perched on the rocks. She was a reject, a "nerd" they called her. I called her my friend, Charlotte.

We traveled through the Spooky Forest together, playing as children will. It was not long before we came upon more like us, rejects who had been cast out into the forest. Most were crying when we found them. They had done nothing wrong, yet were being punished.

With each passing day our group grew bigger and bigger. I had decided we needed to find a place to live, and, hungry and tired, the rest of my friends agreed. Charlotte and I went alone to find the place where we would live. When the forest cleared before us and we caught our first glimpse of Silver Hill. It was perfect.

Our dwarves dug deep channels into and especially under the hill. The whole underground structure was designed by our scientists (we have a lot ^^'), and the rubble carried away by trolls and Orcs.

Once we were finally settled in, some of us that had a knack for being handy took up the job of weapon and armor making. I was one of those blacksmiths.

But pretty soon, disorder erupted. Small disputes between species and ideals were blown up into full-fledged riots. Somehow I was always there to stop them, always tell them they were equal, and peace would reign (if only for awhile).

I grew to love Silver Hill. It was magnificent, it was mine, and I loved the people I had come to know as friends. One day Charlotte approached me, and told me a council had been called to decide a King for our small kingdom. Of course I was insulted that I had not been invited, but Charlotte was quick to correct me.

They had called a council to pronounce me (me!) as King.

But I couldn't! I hated the title, it sounded so superior, as if I was better than my people. But the council would not give in. Eventually it was agreed that I should be named Prince, and that the council and I were to make decisions together.

And that, my friends, is how I became Prince of Rejects.

Description
asked: *fiddles around with my tail* why do they call you Prince of rejects? >>

That's actually a very good question! You see, after my mother died in the Spooky Forest and I was alone there, I wandered around for days, searching for food, water, and hopefully an answer. It was not very long before I came to a stream where this young girl was knelt over the riverbed, studying a lizard that perched on the rocks. She was a reject, a "nerd" they called her. I called her my friend, Charlotte.

We traveled through the Spooky Forest together, playing as children will. It was not long before we came upon more like us, rejects who had been cast out into the forest. Most were crying when we found them. They had done nothing wrong, yet were being punished.

With each passing day our group grew bigger and bigger. I had decided we needed to find a place to live, and, hungry and tired, the rest of my friends agreed. Charlotte and I went alone to find the place where we would live. When the forest cleared before us and we caught our first glimpse of Silver Hill. It was perfect.

Our dwarves dug deep channels into and especially under the hill. The whole underground structure was designed by our scientists (we have a lot ^^'), and the rubble carried away by trolls and Orcs.

Once we were finally settled in, some of us that had a knack for being handy took up the job of weapon and armor making. I was one of those blacksmiths.

But pretty soon, disorder erupted. Small disputes between species and ideals were blown up into full-fledged riots. Somehow I was always there to stop them, always tell them they were equal, and peace would reign (if only for awhile).

I grew to love Silver Hill. It was magnificent, it was mine, and I loved the people I had come to know as friends. One day Charlotte approached me, and told me a council had been called to decide a King for our small kingdom. Of course I was insulted that I had not been invited, but Charlotte was quick to correct me.

They had called a council to pronounce me (me!) as King.

But I couldn't! I hated the title, it sounded so superior, as if I was better than my people. But the council would not give in. Eventually it was agreed that I should be named Prince, and that the council and I were to make decisions together.

And that, my friends, is how I became Prince of Rejects.