They're religious tales--learned them as a kid. Supposedly, Daltoh made the corbies before us to be normal folk's servants, but they got right pissed off about that and turned on us. I know the corbies exist, and I believe they're pissed at us. But the rest of it, I don't put much stock in. I don't believe there's somethin' out there deciding who got to be servants and who gets served, but if there is, I sure as piss got nothin' to thank it for.

[He's not sure where his vehemence on this subject came from, but he feels confident in every word. Interesting. He knows it's not really what Barnabas was getting at, though.]

But yeah, there's always a reason behind stories. Folk wouldn't tell them otherwise. Just seems like sometimes that reason ain't a truth gettin' twisted so much as a lie bein' told on purpose to get folk to do what the storyteller wants.

[His sudden dark mood lifts at the sight of the tavern. Any place that has alcohol can't be all bad.]