Role

Chapter 1

From An Examination of Theran Societies, Vol II
by Niknud Stumpfoot, Assistant to the Chief Chronicler of Hillcrest

p. 2071

And then did Elgar Brightfeather, gracious host and guide to the city in
the clouds take this humble narrator to a building of nondescript design
located down an alley of the magnificent city in what can only be
described as 'the least striking vista in all of Arial City.' But I
digress. For a thorough examination of the architecture of Arial City
and indeed, all Cities in Thera, please acquire An Examination of Theran
Architecture, vol. I-IX by yours truly.

A sharp rap upon the door by Brightfeather's staff brought forth a kindly
faced (inasmuch as a face dominated by a fierce beak can be 'kindly')
female of the race garbed in, what I had come to learn, were the robes of
a healer. She led us into a room in which sat perhaps two dozen eggs,
which were, at the time, the largest eggs I had ever laid eyes on.

They were laid out in, for lack of a better word, 'cribs' and held above
the ground at a height of about a gnome's nose. A hearth in the center of
the room blazed with a gentle fire and heated the room to a cozy warmth.
Having taken in this scene I was ushered up the stairs and served a fine
broth made from some sort of flying lizard.

As I sipped my soup it was explained to me that Arials who find
themselves "in posession" of unwanted (for whatever reason) fertilized
eggs often simply hurl the eggs over the city's walls to smash on the
mountainside below. I smiled and nodded my head until the full
realization of what this meant hammered me on the head like a giant
swinging a tree-trunk. I choked on my soup and considered the Arials'
rightful place among the finer races of Thera!

Arial life is too short, they explained, to be sentimental about such
things. However, they continued, not all unwanted eggs are to meet this
fate. Some are left, by cover of night at the doors of shrines. As an egg
must be kept constantly warm, this puts the embryo inside in terrible
danger. Upon discovery, these eggs are, if deemed to still have life
inside them, rushed to this place. The home of the Nestless.

Only about a third of The Nestless hatch, heated by the fires tended by
the healers. And they tend to be small, often malformed, and frequently
die shortly after hatching. All because of a few hours exposure to the
night air when they most needed the heat of their mothers.