"Well because," The Librarian spoke softly, yet his voice still seemed to carry unnaturally down the corridor of the maze they were making their way through, "there is meant to be the most interesting example of clockwork in creation at the other end." The orc grunted in response, hefting the great cleaver in his hand and staring at the wall of the maze, as if measuring it. His dark eyes kept darting up and down the corridor as if looking for witnesses. The muscles in the orc's arm quite obviously tensed for a swing and The Librarian's heart almost leapt out of his chest. "Hold on now!"

The orc ignored him, his blade swinging fast enough to leave an after-image on The Librarian's vision, and impacted against the wall of the maze. The maze was made up of what looked like densely grown rose bushes, and should have parted under such a swing, yet instead they seemed to cushion the blow, giving just enough to absorb the strike before springing back into place, knocking the blade away harmlessly. The orc just grunted in response, turning away from the wall and sheathing the cleaver across his back once more as he stalked off down the corridor. "Well, erm… Yes." The Librarian muttered to himself, getting closer to the area the blade had struck to check for signs of damage. Not a leaf or thorn had so much as a crease, let alone physical damage. His notebook appeared in his hand from the pouch on his belt, and the quill from a pocket within the arm of his robe. He scribbled notes furiously, not wanting to miss a thing.

There was a lot of literature about the rose maze, the lake beyond, and the mysterious clock in the center. Fiction, first hand accounts, theories and treatises, papers written and disproved, then their replacements disproved. There was so much work on the subject, but The Librarian needed to see if for himself. Settle accounts so there was some kind of definitive work. Then the rest of the work could be sorted, organized properly based on factual evidence… He was getting excited by the prospect. Hopefully it would be left for him to do himself on his return. It would be such a shame to see it done by someone else, and then have to check for accuracy. And yet…

"Come." The command was harsh, the accent think, the voice rumbling and grating. It was terrifying to hear his companion speak, and a selfish part of The Librarian was glad he spent so much time in silence. Yet, who else in history had been afforded the opportunity to document the travels of an orcish knight? He had searched the catalog he held within he mind, cross-referencing every way he knew how, and nothing had come up. He had sent a query to his peers at The Library, but had yet to hear back. Without one of the Nodes, he was restricted in contact, unable to access the vast stores of knowledge in the way he was accustomed. His own Node had been lost when he had left, and he was yet to find a way to replace it. If the stories of the magical technology within the lake ahead were true, though, then perhaps it would not be too long until he had another. Then his exploration would really take off!

The Librarian winced as the orc grunted again, and his legs carried him forward until he was next to the towering figure who had, somehow, assigned himself the task of The Librarian's protector, and The Librarian the role of his chronicler. The orc was easily over seven feet tall, close to eight if he was any judge, and he was wide across the shoulders. His body, with armor removed, was covered in thick muscle and scars. The clothes he wore were, strangely, well-kept. The Librarian hadn't managed to get up the nerve to ask about that yet, in fear of offending his large green companion. But everything he knew about orcs from stories had them as stinking beasts, blood thirsty and mad, acting out of nothing but instinct and rage. Yet none of that seemed to be the case where Gronk was concerned. It was a mystery, and The Librarian was happy to be the one to uncover what lay behind it.

So many mysteries, and so little time! He could have squealed with the excited. But again, the orc was there, looming above him. It would not do to draw too much attention to himself, when he was doing so well with just going where he wanted, and occasionally where the orc wanted, and doing his job. They did not talk much, yet, but he was sure he would get to a point eventually where he could get the orc to open up to him. It was only a matter of time.

Speaking of time, they had been wandering the maze for what seemed like far too much time. They had been told by the friendly merchant at the entrance that it would be a short walk, yet they had been walking for hours. Would they ever reach the lake?

Soft silk petals gathered around its bud made the rose that Ciara carried in her hands. It was one of the roses that had fallen off the bush walls of the maze and the fae woman refused to let something so beautiful sit in a corner. She removed the few thorns it had and tied up her hair, in a half up ponytail. After weaving the rose into her hair, she skipped around the maze looking for entertainment or trouble. Ciara found both in the form of an orc and a human. As she watched silently from around the corner, the orc tried to slash open the maze but barely made a dent in the foliage. She continued to follow them, mostly out of curiosity, until she realized how incredibly lost they were.

Stepping out from behind one of the mazes’ many corners, she skipped past them, keeping her distance from the big orc. Ciara was dressed in a simple flowing light blue dress, had no shoes, and didn’t appear to have any weapons on her. The fae woman hummed a tune as she went past them and stopped in front of a beautiful yellow rose. The roses of the maze were a variety of unique colors and some didn’t even exist outside of the maze. The place was truly magical. She touched the soft petals but stopped humming.

“You know it's dangerous to swing around that sword. Children of Arri like to play here. I wouldn’t want to be you if I accidentally hurt a child here.” She vaguely warned the two as she continued petting the rose.

Her voice was a sweet honey despite the seriousness of the situation. The woman's eyes glanced at the two only once. Once satisfied by its texture, she moved on to squat near the path separating the dirt of the garden from where a person should walk. The stones were smooth and glistened like pearls. Little ants marched across the stone path with teeny tiny pieces of fruit and crumbs. Ciara followed the march of ants wanting to see where they went. If the other two spoke, she would listen but her eyes were focused on the ants. 

The Librarian was about to open his mouth to ask the orc another question when, out of nowhere, someone went skipping by them. Actual, literal skipping. He was taken aback, and saw only the blue-green of her hair and the blue of her dress or robes which flowed around her. It was a her, he was sure of it, because of the pitch of the humming, because of course the skipping figure would also be humming. He supposed it might not be a woman, it could be a young boy. They would have a higher tone to their humming, too, a gentler pitch. But, then there was the hair. He was sure of it, this was a woman. Or girl. He frowned, as these thoughts sped through his head, one after another, but stopped at the same time the figure stopped and turned to face them.

He almost grinned as he saw the figure was in fact a female, of some kind. There was something ever so off about her looks, something unnatural. What it was, exactly, he could not put his finger on as he took in her appearance. Just a shade shorter than he was, eyes of a color he could not quite make out from this distance, but taking them in as if there was nothing strange about the hulking form of the orc next to him. An utter lack of fear of the towering orc. Was that what it was? How calmly she approached them, when most would see an orc and flee, or prepare to fight? She was doing neither, just warning them of the danger they posed to the Children of Arri. What exactly did she mean by that?

He had a general idea that the maze, and eventual city, they were in was a part of the country of Arri. Was this a term used for the locals? Or was she being literal, in the sense that children enjoyed playing in the maze? Surely, if there were children running about, she knew they would not go around swinging a sword at them. Surely. Yet, there was nothing in her tone that made it seem like she was being anything other than completely genuine. The warning did not even come across as a threat from her, simply as a statement. She would not want to be them if they hurt a child. Well, who would? 

She turned from them, then, and began inspecting the ground. Was there something on the ground which might give them directions, was that the trick to this maze? Small details he and the orc had missed, which told the traveler the path to take? He crouched down and began searching for any kind of sign, but there was nothing. He glanced over at the woman, and for the first time he noticed she was barefoot. Strange woman, bare feet, curious tone, lack of fear… All the evidence was adding up, and the Librarian did not think this was a human in front of them. He scanned through the information he had on different races, but there were just too many to name which looked human, but were not. 

While the interaction so far had not taken up much time, the orc had not moved or said a thing since the woman had arrived. It was only when the Librarian was about to speak, and possibly offend the woman by asking what exactly she was, that the orc stepped forward, closing the gap between himself and the woman. When he finally stood, looming above her, he looked down and tilted his head to the side. "Ants." was all he said, his tone flat, making it hard to tell if it were a statement or a question. That was it, as he stood there, looking down at the woman and what apparently were ants.

The Librarian cautiously stepped forward, gaze darting back and forth between the woman and the orc, wondering what was going on here and if he was the strange one for not being more at ease in this situation. "Well then, er, excuse me." He cleared his throat, wondering how to proceed. "We seem to be a little… Lost?" Was what he decided to go with, while the orc continued standing there, like some kind of statue built years before to watch the progress of insects.