Thunder Dome a place like magic

Buzzing and bee-like is the shiver that works through her ravaged spine. A soft scything of phantom fangs at her shoulder —
Did he?
— but Andraste ushers settlement into her figure and a gentled smile upon her lips; turned to the burnished  (not beryl!)  face of Aiolos.  "A gem amongst ze spires, if you will,"  she muses,  "one that I have only had ze opportunity to come across only a few times before. I am glad that ze earths have not gobbled it up."  With an absent-mindedness of one seasoned in profession, she stoops to idly inspect a knotwork of fronds; guesses at its like; and promptly rises with a meager shiver of skull. Not what was needed;
"If my mem'ry serves right — I should hope — you spoke of your time with those named ... Nereids, no?"  A curious look, not without its own drapery of keen modesty, was passed Aiolos' way.  "I once lived upon ze northern coasts for a time, myself, but have not once hear of them. How-ever, may I ask, did you come into their ranks?"