As Lichfield wandered into the pantry he called out to the man who now filled his hallway.
"I'm afraid I haven't seen an angel round these parts for nigh on a generation," he sorted through the bottles on the numerous shelves that lined the pantry. lifting a few off, he scruntinised the labels on the bottles and finally settle on one.
Flitting back and forth in front of the giant, he finally ushered him into the dinning room. The wide table was now laden with cold meats, an assortment of pies (both sweet and savoury), a variety of vegetables and other treats, "Never a good idea to discuss business on an empty stomach." He poured a goblet for guest from a decanter labeled Princess Magdalene vintage 1245BC and pottered off out of the sight of his mountain sized guest.
Entering his study Lichfield pulled a volume from his shelf and thumbed through the pages while he wandered back into the dinning room. Placing the book in a purposefully craved out space amongst the accumulation of foods Lichfield had seemingly prepared in minutes. Taking a quill and jar of ink from somewhere from within his dressing gown, he swiftly and neatly penned the words Six, Eight on the page.
Clearing some cobwebs from his throat Lichfield began to read from the tome set upon the desk. "Kirnardaz Ve'lor ak," he paused and hmm'd angrily at the smug in the title of the page.
"Ruler of the Vorax Dimension," he looked up from the page, "Is this a principality or a kingdom? Ah or are you in fact a demon prince and King of the Vorax Dimension, smiter of Gods and bedder of many wenches," he banged the table at the last title and flashed a grin at the Ascended God sitting across from him. Seeing his lack of response from what Lichfield was a good ice breaker he continued. "Married Sophia Marx on...on the...hmm, do they have time in the Vorax Dimension?"
He continued before the daedra could get an answer in, "Anyway, semantics really. Father to Eleni Marx, mother burnt at the stake for conceiving a demon's progeny, oh I'm very sorry to heat that. It must have been an awful lose to deal with while raising a child." Lichfield leafed through a few more pages searching for any anomalous information in his mighty tome which made the table sag into the carpet.
"Are you a god of anything in particular, are you worshiped anywhere other than Vorax and which gods did you devour exactly to achieve such a title?" He grinned crookedly at the scourge of angels cutting himself some of the steak and ale pie. He could feel an otherworldly pair of feelers probing at the base of his spine and creeping up his skull but they were reaching that part of back he could never seem to reach so he left them to their task.
"Anyway," he slammed the book shut and lent forward on his boney elbows "Mr Kirnardaz, is there something I can help you with?"