Echoes of our previous life still linger to propel our new existence. Desperation of an isolated Elder Brain and the looming bloodlust of a Black Dragon. Even at near death, there is time for experimentations and risk. In this old life, we would seek to complete the Great Design. Such things no longer appeal to us. Generations of evolution of both our kinds, led us to becoming a weapon against the balance of nature

The squabbling of the matriarchy Drow city gives us little amusement, only a necessity. We seek beyond the schemes and uninventive thinking. The Draconic blood surges our lust for curiosity and knowledge; collections of the exotic forces of nature. The longing for trinkets is nothing to our greatest prize. A question. THIS is the driving force towards our being. The knowledge yet to be seized to cure our insatiable appetite. Despite our replete library, a true challenge left us yearning; until it became known to us of a creature by the name Brimelle. Silver scales and shape unmatched to known metallic dragons, tales of a far-off land unknown to charts and curators, curious compatibility with a singular humanoid, and an extension of their bloodline. It is the one called Brimelle we share our treasured prize...
What are you?

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A letter, an ever innocuous letter.
Cameth in, taking us by surprise, brought by a creature of such peculiarity I hast never seen walking on the soil of Krynn. Nor hast I hath heard stories of it existing somewhere in the Abyss.
Ponder mine own curiosity peaked, yet mine own instinct wary.

I doth nay like this body of mine, this prison of flesh and silvery scales, which hast yet to maketh me feel comfort wast it nay for when it is caressed by the hands of those closest to me, mine own loves, mine own family. And it is for the sake of mine own family that I needeth to get to the bottom of this.
Who is that sent it?
What do they want?
Their intentions were clear, they wroteth those down. Yet hither I am, in this abode. Shivering. Trembling. Was I too quick to jump to conclusions? Am I foolish for worrying? I shouldst hast listened to Melissa.
Something's moving behind me, ABOVE ME. I turn 'round with such haste that as mine own eyes focus on yond misshapen creature, only one question runs through mine own mind.
What art thee?