The big Irishman wasn't quite sure now where to head. Now that the world seemed to be heading to darker waters... He didn't know much at all of what was going on. Fael was unfortantely ill-informed with all the happenings within the world of Shaman. He was just a humble blacksmith with no home. He had completed the trials with the big Blacksmith whom he'd slept with a little while before and he had faced Raptors in the abandoned Sebauza Ruins. But now he had no true purpose other than forging.
That wasn't as much of a problem as he might have originally thought but at the same time, Fael had no home. He had wanted to take control of the old Ruins but it wasn't exactly the safest environment right now. So all he could do was go before the legendary Arthur and ask for his humble help.
He had been here before and as he walked in through the doors, he reached behind his head to check if his blade was still there. He wasn't nervous but all this chaos did make him a little twitchy.
"Yer Majesty?" His eyes looked around the throne room as he was let inside and he knelt on one knee in front of the throne. He bent his head, hoping that he could get the answers he was looking for.
He wondered if the Prince, Tristan, was around. Fael did love children and he had hoped to make a blade for the Royal Heir. Perhaps even Arthur would commission a blade but then, he was certain he already had one far beyond what his skill to craft could allow him to make.
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