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Such verses are often heard echoing throughout the tunnels and caverns of the Dragon's Heir kobold tribe. Once a somewhat shy and xenophobic race of little creatures, these kobolds, in recent times, have opened up their borders for an exchange of various ideas, goods, and services. The self-proclaimed queen of the kobolds, Tikana the Red, lounges upon her throne, taking in audiences from lands beyond to listen to their petitions for further relations with the miniature dragons. Her resplendent posture, the hoard of gold she lays upon, and her casual nudity give her an almost deific aspect. Often, she notices the way that the lesser beings admire her and her treasures, and serves to increase her importance, if only for herself. The bearded newcomers with their stocky bodies and their stock-laden stone chest appeared every bit the stone-serious dignitaries that any kingdom would enjoy. However, Tikana knows from the way they eye her treasure that they seek not the glittering gold or her own high-born magnificence. Nevertheless, she let them speak their minds. It's always more fun when they try to be polite and proper. "Oh, great and magnificent Tikana, Queen of Kobolds, Heir to the Great Wyrm. I am Trosh, son of Drosh. Ambassador of the High Dwarven Council of the Republic of Low Targrin. Long have our nations been near, but never had we acknowledge each other as equals. Today, I seek to bring our people together in peace and in prosperity." "Is that so?" Tikana says, sitting up from her lounging position. She crosses one leg over the other, letting some of the coins of her pile glitter down in an avalanche of decadence. The firelight that illuminates the chamber bounces off of the shifting currency and reflects off of the crimson patches that denote her draconic heritage. "And what gifts do you bring me? Surely, you do not wish to come here empty-handed." Trosh's eyes light up at the resplendent sight. The young dwarf isn't entirely immune to the charms she has. Since he admires what she displays more than his fellows, she considers him to be the perfect representative for her own ends. He is a young one, that is for sure. His peers among the dwarven guard all have grizzled, frown-wrinkled faces and long, braided beards adorned with metal bands wrought in intricate designs. He is not so different, but just different enough for an outsider to notice. His reddish hair is tight with compacted curls, and his beard is equally as curly. Tikana has often wondered what it was like to have hair. What it must be like to have a warming, soft material growing out of one's body. It would be much more manageable than the impressive, if impractical, crown of horns upon her head. They are always growing into each other and making the scales between so impossible to clean. Her head itches just as she thinks about it. Trosh, meanwhile, wonders what it is like to be a monarch of such a small race. But, as she stares at him, he cannot help but to stroke his tightly-curled beard. He often felt the eyes of his fellow dwarves upon him for his abnormally curly hair, so the eye of a foreign royal shouldn't be different, but it still is. "Queen Tikana, your people are great, and the scales on your body make you strong, but there are none stronger than those who wear the armor provided by the fire of our forges. We offer you means to protect yourself from strong and terrible creatures, which should allow you to expand your lands to territories never before considered." "So lovely, but that's a lot just for a diplomatic relationship. Surely, you must want something else? Tikana asks, resting her chin upon the knuckles of one hand. In the other, she scoops up a fist full of gold, letting each coin and trinket fall one-by-one to join their brothers and sisters into the glimmering pile. "Why is it you're really here?" "You are wise, Your Majesty," Trosh says, placing a hand upon his plated armor, "For our alliance, we humbly ask that our scholars be taught by your lead arcanist." The rest of the coins fall from Tikana's grasp, not as a gentle cascade, but a downpour.. "And what do you think you will gain from speaking to my court wizard? Have you, perhaps, heard things about her?." Truthfully,t so many stories have been told of Tik Tik. Many of them were embellished fan fiction of her exploits. Some, of course, were real, but many more, she felt, Tik Tik wouldn't mind being real. Of course, fame and infamy mean nothing if someone is actually coming to find what doesn't actually exist. She knows to be careful and see if she still has the upper hand in this bargain. "Oh, Tikana, the tales that have spread around the forges are lurid and many, but from what I know, this is the tale: "A lowly trapmaker, punished for a mistake she had not made, Tik Tik was sentenced to work within the mines. An accident occurred, and she discovered a book of great and terrible power. By your leave, she went out into the Wildlands above, where she met many new beings, studying from them how they mate and love. "Her journeys made her many new friends, but also enemies, for she caught the eye of the fearsome and powerful Estrasa. Through circumstances and happenstance, Tik Tik made allies with the right people to end Estrasa's reign. Still, the book she had discovered was destroyed by Tik Tik's own hand, so that its power would not fall into the wrong hands. "Angered by the destruction of the book, a terrible demon took possession of her, forcing Tik Tik to journey to the city of Anteronia, and from there, her actions sparked a revolution, felling long-standing aristocracy and bringing inner peace to the conflicted people."