The Woodward

The Woodward spoke in treble tones, widely flourishing his knotted hands in time to his words delivered. His appearance was ancient, truly ancient, with folds of wrinkles engraved deeply upon his brow.

Although he was seated he still towered above everyone as they stood - for he was twice and thrice the height of other beings who were not giants. With a kingly presence and sombre regard, he was lovingly respected by each of the Fey - from the oldest to the youngest of natures.

-Gabriel Brunsdon, Puck in Hell, Azlander Series