Not a peasant or a servant? Not immediately pulling on the 'you goddamn 'vint'' scowl? Lucarius' smile broadened an almost imperceptible measure, and there was a new lightness to his languid stride. His circuit around the boulder brought them almost side to side, companionably, and he reached out with the toe of his boot to nudge at the great rock with the well-polished toe of his boot.

"Oh, the sky's not falling, it's tearing! That needs a seamstress, not a mason." He waggled his fingers playfully. "But... more seriously, my good man, if the noise is bothering you, why not cordon off the area? The, ah... the pressing need for improvement looks, one would think, as though it would justify such measures. By the Fade, it would have been an even bigger mess if this had fallen on a person."

He lapsed into quiet laughter, and clasped his hands behind his back. The attendant slave simply fell, like a shadow, a step beside and behind his master, utterly silent and expressionless.