[ Dorian glances at the hand, returning his gaze to the man to which it is attached. His eyebrow arches, as if to say, Really? ]
This being a diplomatic exchange of sorts, Lady Montilyet would be more suited to showing you around the fortress. She has been greatly looking forward to your arrival.
[ No, she hasn't. She had been working herself into a tizzy, what with there being little by way of information regarding customs in Fiore. ]
I do. I can see you just fine, but across the room, things start to get a bit blurry.
[ yes, Owen. The raptor man is near-sighted ] I also have clothes and weapons I stashed before I was captured. I thought it best to play dumb, as it were.
[ He jerks his head toward the back of the tent before kneeling beside the opening he had made himself. He checks his watch, doing the mental math for when the next blindspot in the patrol should be. ]
C'mon. We need to be quick. Stay close.
[ Which is all he says before he he's rolling back out and hurrying back to the cover of the jungle. ]
[ "Quick" is Ian's middle name. (Okay, he doesn't actually have a middle name, but if he did it would have something to do with how fast he is.) He lacks the sheer size of his fellow Raptori, and has had to make up for it with speed and agility.
So he's right on Owen's heels, footfalls oddly silent as he runs. ]
[ They reach cover just as the the soldier rounds the corner, walking around the tent in slow, lazy strides. Once Owen leads them some distance away out of earshot, he finally addresses the elephant in the room: ]
If it's any consolation, the Inquisitor seems fond of mining the stuff, even when it's of no use to us. "One can never have too much ore," is her motto. Or it would be, if she cared to have one.
[ He says it as he's striding toward the main hall, and along the way, there are more than a few men and women who stop to observe the newcomer -- some more subtle than others. ]
In all seriousness, I'm a Raptori. I was not created in some laboratory, I was raised in a Raptori village, with a dozen or so nestmates. Just and you and your kind descended from primates, me and mine descended from the Old Ones- dinosaurs, I think you call them.
The truth of the matter is I'm not entirely sure myself. I was running along, everything sort of shifted, and I found myself face-to-face with an Old One.
[ He pauses, head tilted upward, nostrils flaring, before heading off further into the trees. ]
If I were a halfway decent Raptori, it would have been quite the religious experience.
If I'm to lead you to the Old One, I would appreciate two things- one, I would quite like to know your name, and two, I would quite like to get dressed first.
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