<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 lips curled in a sad smile as she shook her head.  Exalted ancestry?  She claimed nothing of the sort on either side.  As for quantity of dragon blood, half was certainly enough.  Did the kobold hold more?  She wasn't sure if the race was a mix or simply a degeneration from the grander wyrms, but she suspected her parentage presented differently rather than less.  Perhaps because her father had been elven at the time?<br/><br/>"I'll fetch your case in a minute; or is it urgent?"  She looked the alchemist over for a moment.  It was better to show open curiosity rather than trying to hide it behind some pretense of disregard, surely?  Those were the humans who most offended her; the ones who posed forthright questions about her eyes, or why the molten silver dripped harmlessly from her fingertips, were the most open to understanding and accepting.  Even so, she had to check her own bigotry.  Her first impulse was to be thankful she could pass more readily as something harmless.  But the kobold, to her surprise, wasn't ugly.  There was a graceful sort of dignity to its lines of horns and scales, a sense of a greater wyrm that belied its hesitant voice and cowed poise.  Aesa nodded in recognition of the creature's trust.  "It offends me that you have to hide.  Cousins is what the professor called us, once.  I didn't like it.  That was unworthy of me."  She ducked her head, realizing it wasn't quite an apology or...whatever it was supposed to be, but her pride wasn't able to bend any further.  It was enough humility for a day and she hadn't yet exchanged a word with the elf.<br/><br/>"As to the books," her gaze flickered over them only long enough to register what the leather bindings weren't.  She had no desire to study them further; best to pretend it was cat skin.  Instead, she turned her attention to her fellow mourners.  "While I don't think the Professor would give us a key to a trap, neither do I think he lightly made contingency to gather us all here nor called the tomes dangerous without reason.  I see your hunger.  I've seen it before, watched crones dig through such things, thinking themselves too learned to fear any vileness, and I saw the results of such dalliance tear their souls away to leave cruel husks with empty eyes.  Read the folio meant for us.  I'll not stop your pawing through the rest without permission, but I'll think you're a fool for it."<br/><br/>