The ponderous lord of stone dropped to a knee with a thud, almost to say that this was more important and worth the time than his meeting with the Fall King. Placing a hand of ore upon his chiseled chin Orðabók wondered for a moment at the rudeness of the Duchess's gesture at this point ignoring the warriors of the realm and their advances. And just as the man of rock was opening his mouth to respond a voice broke out and interrupted him.
"I can answer for myself" "Yeah, my name's Max, Max Napras." And as to the Hermit's surprise, the boy had not been so enthralled with the treachery of the fall court. And so a smile erupted from Orðabók's stony visage, until he heard the next part, which had drained away to a solemn look.
The boy was tricked, this was to be expected, but now it had seemed that they plan on keeping him against his own will? Such was not the way for the great giant of rubble. With a sharp glance toward Max's 'captor' Orðabók spoke in his usual timbre, "These creatures do not claim ownership over you, nor would I see it done." The boy needed his help after all, though whether he simply wanted to seek the knowledge of a mortal or he genuinely cared of the human's well being remained to be seen.
Soon after the man of stone added, "If you wish, I may guide you from this place, though you have no reason to trust me. These forests are quite a bother however." All the while being oblivious to the noble's reactions toward the conversation.
And just as Orðabók had finished speaking, the crackling wind sprung out in all directions. Irking the stoic Fae, especially the words carried upon the gusts. Ugh, the rhyming that the Fall king had prided himself over for so long. If anything kept the stone giant out of the Fall court, it was that.
But such words had rung true, it was foolish for the duchess to lash out at Orðabók at all, considering his worth to more than just the fall court. It almost felt like cheating, "Looks like the lord of this land would like an audience, young Max. Shall you tag along?"
"I can answer for myself" "Yeah, my name's Max, Max Napras." And as to the Hermit's surprise, the boy had not been so enthralled with the treachery of the fall court. And so a smile erupted from Orðabók's stony visage, until he heard the next part, which had drained away to a solemn look.
The boy was tricked, this was to be expected, but now it had seemed that they plan on keeping him against his own will? Such was not the way for the great giant of rubble. With a sharp glance toward Max's 'captor' Orðabók spoke in his usual timbre, "These creatures do not claim ownership over you, nor would I see it done." The boy needed his help after all, though whether he simply wanted to seek the knowledge of a mortal or he genuinely cared of the human's well being remained to be seen.
Soon after the man of stone added, "If you wish, I may guide you from this place, though you have no reason to trust me. These forests are quite a bother however." All the while being oblivious to the noble's reactions toward the conversation.
And just as Orðabók had finished speaking, the crackling wind sprung out in all directions. Irking the stoic Fae, especially the words carried upon the gusts. Ugh, the rhyming that the Fall king had prided himself over for so long. If anything kept the stone giant out of the Fall court, it was that.
But such words had rung true, it was foolish for the duchess to lash out at Orðabók at all, considering his worth to more than just the fall court. It almost felt like cheating, "Looks like the lord of this land would like an audience, young Max. Shall you tag along?"