consultmybooksIs this supposed to be some sort of a joke?
[The orb shows a middle aged man standing in the shadow of the castle walls. He doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the persistent rain, except to glance around him at the grey landscape every so often with the look of one lost. He doesn't even seem as though he's getting wet at all.
The especially observant might notice that this is because the rain doesn't appear to be touching him.
More importantly, this man looks decidedly upset, with the stance and bearing of one who's either ready for a fight or who has just escaped one. It's true that the man who'd been there to explain things to him when he'd woken up here probably didn't find Giles a ready listener. He'll go back and apologize later, after he's calmed down. If he's calmed down. The urge to hit something is made all the sharper by the fact that he can't.]
I-I've been dragged away from my home and, and expected to save a kingdom of, of idiots who, who d-don't even know not to mess with forces they admit are beyond their comprehending! A-And to make matters so much worse, they've done so in a way to ensure that I can't help anyone!
[Giles glances back at the wall, and if looks could kill that stone would crumble. As it stands, Giles merely swipes a hand at it, and his mood is not improved when his blow merely passes through the stone, as noticeable as a breeze and even less effective. Giles massages his hand more out of reflex than anything else as he turns back to the orb.]
They, they said that only other..."heroes" [a word he says with evident distaste] have these things. If so, then, then speak up. If you're not from this place, then you might be at least marginally more helpful than the people who actually live here. And, a-and like this...you all are, um, my only way to have any idea of what's going on.
[He sighs, some of the fight leaving his body, if only from the memory of exhaustion.]
Rupert Giles. Um, nice to meet you.