<div class="floatleft">(https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/c2/5a/5b/c25a5b9d4712a0ffad833f263d4d9023.jpg)   </div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;">Aesa Wyrmborn</span>(https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=237173.msg11677350#msg11677350)<br/>Dragon-Blooded Elven Arcanist 1 (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheet.html#id=560159)<br/><hr/><br/>Aesa paused for a moment beside the donkey, scrabbling through her pack to find a few dried apple slices.  She wasn't sure if they were the ideal nutrition for such a beast, but the creature seemed satisfied - especially after she intensified the flavor a bit.  She took a moment to eye the bags and saddle that were left in place.  Oberin's lads never left a horse like that; one of them had earned a good thrashing for it.  Were donkeys different?  Or maybe it wasn't going to be here long?  Her hand stole toward the satchels, half in pity and half in curiosity, but the apples apparently hadn't been enough bribe to tolerate actual touching, yet.  The creature snapped at her with a ghastly, wheezing noise that made her concerned it was going to have a fit and die right there.<br/><br/>No wonder Oberin had no truck with donkeys.<br/><br/>Still, the clink of glass and the odd smells of chemicals gave some indication what lay inside: exactly the sort of strange things she'd expect from the shrouded figure.  She glared a moment then headed into the house, followed by an indignant bleat as the donkey realized it wasn't getting another treat.<br/><br/>The gathering was already underway in a silent, awkward way that verified her suspicion that nobody knew anyone else well.  What an odd motley assortment, she thought to herself, wondering what purpose Lorrimor had in calling them here; and knowing at a glance there was such a purpose.  This group was too well armed, and too comfortable with that idea, to be a casual collection of an old erudite's friends.<br/><br/>She kept to tea.  It wasn't difficult; the ritual of boiling, steeping, and preparing was calming and reassuring, a simple reassurance of patience that would be rewarded - ah, yes, he still kept a tin on hand! - by a pleasant mix of mint of lapsang.  Aesa kept quiet during the reading of the will, letting the others crowd in and snatch up the key.  Instead she followed Hearthmount from the room, intercepting him with a hand gently laid on the crook of his arm.  "Esteemed sir, your pardon - speaking of those books to anyone...even if they wouldn't tell, it might be overheard.  That could only attract trouble to this town, or make it too dangerous for us to leave.  I beg of you to keep silence, and we'll have the trunk gone as soon and safely as possible."  She implored him with her strange eyes.  She wasn't a human, but she'd lived among them long enough to understand how to influence them.  A childhood begging alms from kin who despised her had taught her much as well.  Satisfied the man at least understood that silence was in the best interest of a quiet and peaceful town, Aesa returned to the room in time to hear the robed thing's speech.<br/><br/>For a while she was unsure what to make of it.  She had her suspicions, of course, from things Lorrimor had written to her, and when Senthaynatrix mentioned her liege dragon they were confirmed.  But this creature was so obviously unlike her!  So alien and bestial with its odd smell and lisping speech.  Did that make her more elven?  She'd been told that, beside a few odd quirks of coloring and magic, she appeared as purebred as her mother.  Or was she something else - that other part of her father, which was not dragon at all?  She wasn't sure any answer would be reassuring.<br/><br/>Her decision was finally made, oddly enough, when the odd person called herself a little evil.  Aesa smiled at the thought.  Surely she, too, was a little evil?  More than a little; she remembered those weeks with the Sisters, learning their spells without concern for their purpose.  She would have joined them, if not for that damned lizard.  Nor could she entirely absolve herself of their murder; she'd made it necessary with her cowardice, after all.  Perhaps the real gift of the will was a chance for penance.<br/><br/>"I am Aesa, called Wyrmborn."  She stated the name in her native elvish, first, but then translated it into the common.  It was a slur; she took no pride in the title, but it usually explained enough that no further questions would be asked.  "I agree with you, cousin."  Her chin tilted up slightly, silently emphasizing the bond: an attack on the kobold's nature would be an attack on her, too, and any that harbored bigotry would be on the outside of the coalescing group.  "We trust each other as the Professor did.  As to that knowledge, kinsman," she didn't allow her voice to falter as she forced herself to call the elf such, although she couldn't meet his eyes.  She, too, would have to release her animosity, "there's no way to be sure, so even as we keep our own council we must assume the information is known by those who would make unpleasant use of it.  Of those, I fear some backwoods villagers are the least concerning.  And some guardian...."  She paused, considering.  "It's possible.  But I think Lorrimor would have told us more if he'd known of a specific danger, not let us stumble to harm in his daughter's house.  The key would be banished, not given to our care and use.  I sense he only knew to fear something."<br/><br/>Aesa raised a brow as the kobold switched through languages.  Her own draconic was limited by an elven mouth, but a brush of magic infused the words with energy.  She spoke softly, but it left behind a numbing silence like the wake of a thunderclap.<em>"It is spoken."</em>Aesa reverted to common.  "But not lightly.  Let us stick to plain speech for now.  Secrecy doesn't breed trust."  Her red eyes flickered along the scholar's ill-fitting robes in unspoken commentary, but she said nothing more.  Senthaynatrix would have to choose on her own if and when to make that choice.<br/>