Valspan listened to her tale of becoming a sorceress as she was,  but he hadn't heard something important from her.<br/><br/>"So what do you plan on doing with your sceptre and your powers?  You seem proud to have them,  but they're little more than fireworks if you're not trying to accomplish something."<br/><br/>He chuckled,  "As for respect,  I seriously doubt anyone who hasn't already seen your vaporize someone will ever donate such a thing to you on first sight.  Why does that bother you?  If you're secure in your power and the prestige of being a sorceress, the respect of every passing peasant seems worthless by comparison."<br/><br/>He wiggled,  a grunt of anger coming from inside him.<br/><br/>"Let....us...out." A hoarse whisper floated out his top,  but he continued his conversation with her without giving it any mind.<br/><br/>"Besides,  respect isn't something your garner with your appearance. It's earned with deeds, consistent and repeated deeds.  What you're referring to is fear. If you want others to flee on sight at the approach of the spell slinging you,  you'll need to put more lethality in that opening volley of yours.  Or construct an illusory guise more intimidating than your appearance.  At least... Twice as tall, for certain."  He suggested after a moment of internal deliberation.  The worst part was that it didn't sound like he was joking.