The kobold had just managed to finish preening herself. She held a dour look as she raised various limbs into the light for inspection. There were occasional reflective sheens long her limbs that matched large patches on her uncovered torso. A sign that her scales now are a pale representation of what they had been. But she seemed to begrudgingly force it out of her mind, like she had the scales that look as if glass had been shattered on her side. She slid closer to the Dragonborn. The little kobold motioned for him to take a seat while she pushed herself to her feet. The wire brush from before reforming to scrape away what thick grime and globed filth her magic couldn't fix. If allowed, she'd get to work. Though what ever she did... she seemed to make a near childish grand effort of trying not to look at the Dragonborn's body... or do anything that might cause herself to admire the other's form. Even if only for a moment. The kobold eagerly listened to the other's stories. She... certainly felt a bit like the black sheep here. But regardless when others told their tales, she decided to tell her own. Her eyes settled on the human soldier. She seemed to be contemplating something with a mix of anxiety of suspicion. "What I say is not often known by those who do not serve dragons... I trust you will not react unfavorably on it?" She was concern less about the human acting now. And more so later. She did not like the idea of a human bringing an army to go whipe out an entire Kobold tribe when they were originally seen as a nuisance and nothing more. "[color=92278f]Kobold tribesss of ssssubstantial power tendsss to covet their more valuable memberssss. The kobolds oft slain away from caves are the expendable members of the tribe. They are the first to die, u-usually. Often being left behind... While others live. The valuable are thossse whom are keen in mind, have arcane ability, or ssserve greater rollsss for the tribe."[/color] She coughed nervously as she explained. She seemed very interested in measuring the soldier's expression. "[color=92278f]Kobold is one of my master's heralds. One of the Kobolds tribes hides and protects, and sssheltered by consequence. The youngessst and newest of the heralds, and consequently the weakest. F-for now. My focus was stories... my master's entertainer... and I've not first stepped out of his domain till some months ago. The others who specialize in political maneuvering have been outside more than I, and possess greater strength enough so to travel alone and safely - regardlessss of danger. The most I know of the world not from books or relaying news... came from their tales and baubles they brought back."[/color] [color=92278f]"In a way.. I wanted to see what was outside of the warrens. Kobold's goals were to seek stories for her master. She... more or less ended up here by..."[/color] She narrowed her eyes thoughtfully as she scanned through her common vocabulary. The more she spoke it, the more her education seemed to come back to her. As she continued, she seemed to grow increasingly solemn. [color=92278f]" un...unforseen circumstance. She wants to go home... but... at the same time... kobold can see stories yet untold. And has seen more than most of her kind... She's not willing to go home empty handed... not after leading others to their deaths."[/color] She began to wander if what she did was selfish... but she decided to push the thought away. Her master might be furious... but her lifespan was a drop of water compared to the ocean that belongs to a dragon. Instead, she slowly brought her hurdy gurdy to her front. She began to crank the wheel, bringing out a long low bagpipe like droning. Then with the clack of wooden keys, a melody quickly took to the air. The chosen song was something that may belong to a sailor. It certainly had that vibe with the lyrics and crunchy notes. Her tail knocked against a nearby wooden board, making it clatter in time with percussive notes. She'd continue playing through the duration of their rest. Only stopping her singing should someone decide to speak with her. --- When the time came near for them to go. She had made her way towards the back of the Temple. Visiting her companion's grave once more. Reminding herself of his name. Even if it was likely to be forgotten with the ages yet to come. She recalled the struggles on their first camp in this land. The attack. Him doing what most Kobolds probably wouldn't. And in turn getting killed for it just so she could keep her head. She felt guilty that she didn't stop to heal his wounds immediately. But she was more scared of what was chasing them, that she only plugged the wound. She paused her thoughts for a moment. A new thought came into her mind. The mountains she had seen through her mad dash. They matched a story she had heard some years ago. Her mind searching through various descriptions and the sights they've seen. They all matched rather well. She slowly turned away from the tomb and returned to the group. "Kobold think's she remembers something important... A story she had learned from her master...." There was a pause. She narrowed her eyes and thought carefully. "No... not the right word. Master..... of occupation... Teacher I think is the word." She cleared her throat, "The wheel continuously turns, as ages come and past... as ages past become legend, and legend becomes myth. And even myth fades from memory as the age in which it was born comes..." She paused and shook her head. "The story is too long. Er... there were dragons in this land once. But... the stories are nightmarish to kobold." She slowly waved her hand before her, forming up her illusion magic once more. Showing off the mountains with sizable winged creatures flying around razing villages. Dragons. She pointed to the direction of said mountains with her claw. "The stories of this land are told by your kind... details dragons as no more than savage beasts in the mountains. Rage, hunger, and lust drove them into constantly ravaging the lands with no known reason to why. They bathe the land in fire, and return to burn the ashes again. There were... others... eating people... or killing for sport. Kobold believes this might be behaviors of red dragons," She lets out a disdainful sniff, letting the word red drawl out of her muzzle without a hint of reverance. "Red dragons... are just that... ssaaaav..." She trailed off letting her eye flick to the dragon born. She decided not to finish that sentence. "They always compete with another. If a red finds out that another red has a mere coin more in their horde... they will enter a blind rage and destroy all near their nest. If a coin was removed from their horde. They will burn everything in the path of the thief... sear their loved ones after plaiting the flesh... then tear apart the thief. If there's a desirable treasure... all reds who know about it enter fierce competition. If... one learns another grows closer... out manuevers them... or even believes that it has been found. Blind rage. But... kobold doesn't know. She never heard of anything so desirable that it drives reds to such levels of...." She shook her head. Her tail now hung low. Her expression became visibly cracked. That haunted look of fear and worry returned. She even seemed to be shivering, as if thinking of just running away now, and going home. "What terrifies Kobold... and turns this story into a nightmare, is the mention of black fire. Kobold doesn't know if this is truth... it's not natural to any true dragon. Fire is already terrifying... its death is quick but last for ages. Black fire..." she slowly shook her head. "... it does not feed naturally. It... eats you... what makes you-you. S-something an undying dragon would have. A dragon that can not... or shall not fade to oblivion... would have."