It is really weird having family around, insofar as you can consider the deformed mailman's children who live in the basement 'family'. Balthazar does, though. Just because your kin may not have a brain, and only care about eating, doesn't make them less related to you. And considering he's wearing a fleshsuit made of their favorite snack, it's really sort of endearing that they are so obedient to his every command.

Then again, perhaps that's why. Wouldn't dogs listen better to someone covered in bacon?

Mafaton is a fascinating place that he hasn't roamed too much in: the vampires here vary greatly in terms of abilities, and he suspects some are capable of seeing him even when he's cloaked in illusion, or even seeing his real face. It doesn't truly matter if they do, but he's cautious about such things purely as a reflex. Now he stays in the middle of his slavering demon horde, the slightest bit of empty space among them, as they scrabble mindlessly through the tunnels of the undercity. Vampires aren't very palatable, it turns out, but there are occasionally live humans around, and that's what the seplavites looking for.

From the way they're panting and baying, there must be some in this club. His poor inbred cousins may be brainless, but they are strong, and there are many of them. He's not sure they'll be able to get through the door, even so. Balthazar doesn't help them. He only watches.