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chin. His features, like his speech, were decidedly human, though his skin tone and the clawed hands and feet gave away his half-ore heritage.
Uh-oh, she thought. That probably means he's much smarter, and much more dangerous.
Rotapan dismissed Yob with a wave of his staff and stood watching as the ore gingerly made his way to the door, the sea of writhing reptiles closing quickly over his wake. The overking then rested his cold gaze upon Claria.
"I am Rotapan, Rex Serpens to the ten tribes. You will answer me, woman. Why do you offend me by declining an audience? You may address me as 'Overking,'" he said, his right hand wandering up and down his staff.
Claria had forgotten his first question. She stood transfixed by the scepter's glowing red stone, cleverly set as a third eye in a gold viper's head, its fangs bared, at the very top of the staff. Cheyne prodded her gently and she found her voice.
"I meant no disrespect, Overking. Snakes make me very nervous. I don't like them," she replied, flustered.
Rotapan grinned slyly, showing the two tiny, sharp fanglike teeth left him. "Neither do I, woman. But what is your name, and who is your tall companion? Something about you smells familiar, like a rat we saw lurking around the outside of the temple once. Speaking of rats, have you any notion of the esteemed person who travels with you?" he ended sarcastically, and motioned to Og, who had remained remarkably quiet since they had come through the door, his focus entirely upon the red stone in the staff.
With the mention of his name, Og bowed to Rotapan.
"Forgive the woman, Overking. She knows nothing," Og said, pitching his voice in a pleasant, warm range. Claria shot him a deadly look, but let him continue. "Her name is Claria, and her companion is Cheyne, a digger." Cheyne's dazed face matched Claria's.