<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's eyes flared with a scarlet glow and her hands itched for the warm feel of flame as the vile louts laughed.  Memories of her youth flickered through her mind; the other children laughing, heckling, teasing; later, when the adults weren't watching, they would do worse.  Her teeth clenched as she tried to stifle the rage.  It faded into the cool metal handle of the Professor's casket even before the priest spoke his chastising words.  These men were just bluster and bigotry, she knew; they didn't deserve harm.  A bit of a fright might do them well, though.<em>"Gibs Hepehenus,"</em>she whispered quietly, committing the name to memory as she gave the seat of his trousers an embarrassing stain.  It seemed likely they would meet again, but for now the pettiness felt delightful.<br/><br/>Aesa's rage passed; her face returned to its mournful smile as Timo spoke and the girl's squeaked threat came to mind.  Her lip twitched at the thought.  "What a governess that would make.  And such libel deserves no less.  Still, best not; the locals seem touchy about that sort of thing."  She shrugged; after a few demonic rituals and a bit of soul stealing, a doddering bit of bonework seemed minor.<br/><br/>"I'm Aesa, called Wyrmborn.  Are we...<em>supposed</em>to be singing?  I've never done this before."  If pressed, she knew a good forge-song that might be suitable, but not the words to whatever the lad had been singing.