In elder days, the nobles of Cormyr—including the royal Obarskyrs—were notorious for having many bastard offspring. Most of these turnshields, as they were called in polite company, were sent away, often to other noble households where they were reared as servants ignorant of their parentage. Some became skilled artisans loyal family retainers, or even "heirs in reserve". But too many became coinless wastrels wandering distant realms as forgotten kin, hating their noble connections and without the means to reap revenge.
"Snow," my wife called me before she ate her fingers, but I say Bolton.
Bastard children were born from lust and lies, men said; their nature was wanton and treacherous.
Oh, our parents forgot to get married.
Our parents forgot to get wed.
Did a wedding bell chime, it was always time
When our parents were somewhere in bed.
Then all thanks to our kind loving parents.
We are kings in the land of the free.
Your banker, your broker, your Washington joker,
Three prominent bastards are we, tra la,