@consumeall ♥'d!
The jewel of Leithanien was cradled betwixt towering mountains and lush forests, far from the reaches of a darkened sea. Ægir were a rarity where he once lived, and their songs were unknown to even the maddened Witch King.
Ebenholz knows not what to think of the boy before him, whose foreign melody had no place among the cacophony in his head. It wasn't disagreeable in the way that some Operators' music tastes were painfully lacking - rather, it was primal instinct that rejected it, declared it wrong down to his very marrow.
But enough of that. The old codger was likely being baselessly paranoid. "I'm not overly knowledgeable about games," Ebenholz replies at length. He's not sure what spurred the sudden question from the other, unless - "If you wish to use these dice, I'm afraid they aren't toys."
At that, he gives a small demonstration to cement his point. He channels a small portion of his Arts into the rune-engraved catalysts, rotating them in his palm until they shine brilliantly with power. "As you can see, they're weapons. You'll have to find something else to play with."
