QUentan stomps back into the main room, a book in hand, a thick finger holding his place. "How did th' Profsser die? What were his specific inuries again? I kno' sum'n mentioned et at sumtime..."<br/><br/>He scowled at the short female, "Ye's nay need ta make such ah face... Tis mur seen in me life than yeself sees frum ye lofty bookshelves."<br/><br/>He waved it away, kobalds, regardless of their bloodlines, were often more self-important than some dragons... particularly this one.