Rikbore Warstone's black and orange furred snout crinkled at the smell of grease, alchemical energy, and metal. It wasn't a particularly unpleasant smell. In fact, as a Charr warrior of the Iron Legion, he found the smell to be rather reassuring. It was simply that the workshop was buried deeply underground, and as such it tended build up to the point he couldn't smell anything else. Including the half-mad owner of all the gear and equipment emitting the smells.

"Xandra!" he bellowed, his deep voice booming off the walls and creating echoes nearly as powerful.

A sudden blue flash, smell of burning ozone, and long string of creative curses cued him into the location of the little Asuran he'd come looking for. She had evidently buried herself deep in the guts of her latest attempt to create a "hyperspacial thaumosomething or other golem." He ambled over in time to watch her buttocks wiggle out of the back end of the machine. Her stubby legs flailed around for a bit before she gracelessly fell out and sprawled on the ground.

Rikbore gave a rumbling chuckle. He quickly attempted to bite it off at Xandra's expression.

The little Asuran sat up and glowered. "What, it's not enough that you interrupted a delicate instillation procedure, but now you are going to laugh at my misfortune? I suspect you are the reason my step ladder was not properly in place."

The giant Charr held up his hands. "I didn't touch your ladder. It's over there." He pointed to the front of the machine and the open hatch above it.

Xandra snorted. "Then what did you find so funny, you colossus of misfortune?"

"Watching you back out like that was strangely similar to watching a Harathi Centaur give birth."

Xandra gave the four legged contraption a fond pat. "Centaurs are actually very stable creatures. I may have borrowed the concept of their motivational system as well as the upper-torso's additional viewing advantages for my current design."

"And also has the effect of making it look like you just got shoved out of a horses ass."

"I didn't have to show you the way to get down here."

"Nope. We could have stayed up in the barracks when the patrol returned and let them catch you writhing under my tongue."

It continued to amaze Rikbore how red Xandra could turn when the blood rushed to her face. It made her head look alarmingly similar to a beet with hair and flappy ears.

Affronted, Xandra turned away and began sorting tools and parts. "What did you come down here for anyway?" she grumped.

"You got a message. You parents want to see you in Rata Sum."

"My progenitors?" Xandra looked surprised.

"Yes."

"Both of them?" Now she looked suspicious.

"I do believe that would be why I used the plural 'parents' as opposed to the singular 'mother' or 'father'." Rikbore rumbled in reply.

Xandra began rushing about, throwing off grease stained clothing and exchanging them for more reputable garments. "No doubt they plan to appeal once more for my return to Rata Sum to work on something far more worthy of a brilliant asura instead of wasting my life attempting to create devices of war in a whole other dimension." She paused long enough to give Rikbore a half-naked eyeroll. "Like a new ear canal cleaning golem or a flying bread delivery system."

"Maybe they want grandcubs."

"Don't even attempt to contrive humor about that. I don't have the time to be pregnant."

"Good thing I can't get you pregnant then."

"You can't even get it in me," Xandra snorted.

"I got it in once," Rikbore grinned.

"And I walked funny for a week after. We won't be trying that again unless I can find a better elasticizing lubricant."

"Good thing you're headed to Rata Sum then."

Xabdra shook her head. "You are incorrigible."

"And you're late. You'd best run along shorty."

Scowling, Xandra began jumping up the stairs, hopping up three steps at a time. "Lock up when you leave!"

Rikbore chuckled. He began scooping up Zandra's discarded clothes and tossing them into a bin she kept for the purpose.

A cough behind him caused him to spin around, grasping for the rifle he always kept slung on his back. He whipped it over his shoulder and sighted down the barrel at the unexpected intruder. After a second he lowered the rifle to point at the ground. "Sara…"

"So this is where the two of you slip off to." Sara reached a cocoa brown hand to caress one of Xandra's early model golems. She withdrew her hand and shook the dust from it before parking it on a purple clad hip.

"How did you get down here, Sara?"

"I'm a Mesmer with the Order of Whisperers. This is what I do."

Rikbore stepped closer to the dark hued woman, his shoulders back and his spine as straightened as he could get it. "Why are you down here, human?"

"Curiosity, really." Rather than stepping back as he'd hoped she would, Sara stepped to the side and began walking past him.

"A voyeur, are you?" Rikbore's rumble was dangerously low.

"I could care less who you're sticking it in. Or not, as the case may be. Sex bores me." She began tracing her hand over Xandra's latest experiment. "They probably will be asking her about grandchildren, by the way."

The non-sequitur jolted Rikbore out of his irritation. "Huh?"

"They are both meeting her at the same time. That means it's not about her work. If it was about her experiments, "she picked up an arm off a table and stared inside it, "they'd be meeting her singularly and attempting to convince her to join their krewe, and not the other parent's."

"They're not on the same krewe?"

Sara laughed, a rich sound welling up from deep within. "You don't know much about Asuran family structures, do you?" she set the arm down and began eyeballing various flasks of unnatural looking fluids.

"It hasn't seemed important."

"Then let me enlighten you. Asuran relationships typically only last a couple of years. They find themselves mutually attracted as a result of working on a project together and becoming fascinated by one another's brains. So they will form a partnership contract for a couple of years. Most children are the result of such a relationship." Sara turned back towards Rikbore and sat on the low table Xandra used for a work bench. "Doubtless Xandra is the result of one of those. But, after the end of the contract the pair splits up. Asuran relationships are exhausting, you see."

Rikbore pulled a chair built more to his size and sank into it. "How so?"

"It's all about competition, do you see? Surely you've felt at times like Xandra was attempting to take things to ever greater heights?"

"You mean sexually?"

"I mean in everything." Sara leaned back bracing her arms on the table behind her. "Every time an Asuran does something, she's trying to top the last time." She nodded her chin towards a row of golems that got bigger and more elaborate as the line stretched. "Imagine when there are two of them, each trying to outdo the other when cooking, or getting gifts, or in bed. They have limited contracts just to keep them from outdoing one another to death."

"I haven't noticed any of that with me."

"Of course not. You're safe for her. You aren't playing any brinksmanship games. She can relax around you, at least as much as Asurans can relax."

Rikbore scowled. "You make it sound like I'm her only hope to escape that sort of trap."

"Don't be ridiculous. She seems to genuinely like you, but never doubt that she wants to fall into just such a trap. She just wants to do it on her own terms, not on her parent's terms."

"She said she didn't have time to be pregnant."

"Asurans never have time to be pregnant. But they get pregnant anyway. Progeny is very important to them."

"Isn't that true of every race, though?"

"Not like this." Sara slipped off the table and walked over to where Rikbore sat. She popped a hip onto a crate near his chair and settled in, leaning forward towards him. "Why do Charr have children?"

"To create a future generation of soldiers for the glory of the warband."

"For the group then?"

"Well, yes."

"For Asurans, children are about ego. They consider themselves to be the most brilliant thing in Tyria. And each of them considers herself to be the smartest of the Asurans. So for them, having children is all about breeding the smartest kids in the world. Few Asura will choose to let the next generation be dumbed down by letting stupider Asurans be the only ones breeding."

"That's warped."

"That's Asurans for you."

"So why would she not want to be asked about it by her parents?"

"Weren't you listening? If the parents are the smartest Asurans there are, and by breeding they create children even smarter than they are, then who is smarter, Xandra, or Xandra's parents?"

Rikbore chuckled. "That sounds like Xandra, alright." Then he grew somber once more. "If Xandra ever did have a cub, what would happen to it? They get raised in crèches, right?"

"Ah, so you do know a bit about Asuran family. Yes, her children would be raised in a crèche with others of their age. It ensures they get good educations while at the same time preparing them for the social structure that is a krewe. Xandra and the father both would work hard at making sure their children wound up in the best crèche they could. In Xandra's case, it would be a very good crèche indeed."

"You make it sound like she's well connected."

"She is. In fact, her parents are most likely trying to convince her to return to Rata Sum permanently so she could re-establish those connections."

"Just what kind of connections are we talking about here?"

"She was part of Zojja's krewe."

"The Zojja?"

"The one and only. She left it fairly early on, but the rumor is that she left quite an impression. Zojja wants her back so she can push her towards fighting the dragons instead of wasting away out here in the Mists."

"So why'd she leave in the first place?"

Sara shrugged. "You'd have to ask her. Even I don't know that one."

Rikbore's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Funny, you seem to know everything else."

Sara gave a mysterious smile, saying nothing.

"Fine, be that way. So why are you telling me this?"

"I'm part of the Order of Whisperers. It's what I do."

"Get all cryptic and annoying?"

Sara stood up, smoothing her skirts and knocking the dust from her backside. "Tell me, Rikbore Warstone, are you a loyal member of the Legion?"

"Loyal enough that asking me a second time won't end well for you," Rikbore rumbled, eyes narrow and teeth bared.

"If Xandra could help keep the dragons from destroying the Black Citadel and scattering the legion, would you want her to remain here fighting a meaningless war in a phantom realm? Don't worry. She'd probably let you come along."

Rikbore sat in silence a moment before stirring. "You really think she's that good?"

Sara shrugged. "Zojja does. And so does the Order." She turned and began walking up the stairs. "Ask her about the time she helped prove that the Dragons were slowly eating the arcane energy of Tyria."

Rikbore shot upright in his chair. "They what?"

Sara smiled and took several steps up the stair before pausing. "Oh, and next time try this." She pulled a flask from out of her cloak and tossed it to Rikbore. "I've never tried the stuff personally, but I've an apple addicted friend who swears it'll loosen anything up."

Rikbore glanced at the flask in his hand, watching the almost clear substance inside slowly ooze around inside. "What do apples have to do with…" He looked up to discover he was alone.

"Damn Mesmers."