Ersza of Caraburn

	There’s not much to be said about Ersza of Caraburn, save for where the kobold in question came from - she was simply a humble guard at the town of Caraburn, content with making sure that the others safely stashed away behind the walls of the village weren’t in any danger from the world outside. Of course, it would have been rather easy to do if the town were located within flatter lands - hers, however, was stuck near Caraburn’s Summit, a mountain pass with enough granite stashed around it that it made trouble from above the usual thing to keep an eye out for.
	Nevertheless, when she’s not out training and keeping watch at the gates, she’s usually talking with the town’s blacksmith, a curmudgeon of a blue dragonborn by the name of Crah Galtara - of course, he wasn’t only the blacksmith: he was also her mentor. After all, if you’re going to be using a sword, who else to teach how to use it aside from the one who made the blade in the first place? The two of them were old friends - since the days she hatched, really, but who’s to say otherwise?
	One day, while the two of them were having their near-daily bout of conversation (because of COURSE it was fine to put gems on the guard and pommel!), the two of them had managed to get through any sort of arguing that might have reared its ugly head in their direction, leaving Ersza to sigh and slump into a chair.
	When asked what the matter was, she mentioned that it was nothing really - just her thoughts catching up to herself again.

	“I’m fine with staying here, but you know how it is with some people. I’ve lived my entire life in this place, guard it like it’s my life that’s on the line.”

Her mentor simply nodded at her words, everything she was saying making sense within his rattled-old brain - he had gone on journeys in his youth, and that was something that had changed him for better or for worse. There was nothing wrong with going out and seeing the world, after all, right? Without another word, he made his way over, pressed his tired, calloused palm against her shoulder, and pressed a wide, toothy smirk against his face.

“You know, I think it’s about time you go see things for yourself, don’t you think? It’d do you some good and all.”

There was, of course, much to talk about before she left - she did have a post to keep at the gate, after all.

	That conversation, though, was held years ago - at this point, Ersza had been keeping the soles of her boots along the path, each step she takes quietly reminding her of what she had seen throughout her time abroad: she’d seen countless towns, more than enough people to make her smile day in and day out, and enough ale and mead in the taverns around to keep everything in a perpetual low buzz at the base of her skull (she could hold her own, sure, but the stuff back home was TERRIBLE!)
	Short on coin and down on her luck, she found herself with her back against the grass-covered ground just outside a nearby rock face, a sigh escaping her and a smirk pressing itself against her diminutive features. She could probably find a tavern or guild in town - there was always someone that was wanting some sort of help, right? She could make a few coin and start making her way toward the next town on the list - maybe the desert. Something about the sand there always made her think that there was something being hidden there.
	With that, she quietly pushes herself up from her spot on the ground, brushed herself off as best as she could manage, and quietly starts to make her way back toward the path - though, a moment later, the glint of something shining in the corner of her eye quickly catches her attention, her gaze shifting that way a split second later. Even if she knew nothing was there, it always did put a pang of caution surging through her form - her time as a guard taught her that much.
	It probably wasn’t a good idea to see whatever it was, but something was buzzing in her skull about that - and it wasn’t the ale she had earlier. With barely another word, she makes her way toward that glint. Time to see what else the multiverse was going to throw her way. After quickly making her way into what she now knew was a (surprisingly hidden) cave entrance, she soon turns a corner, the first thing hitting her senses being the sight of a book - then, the smell of freshly-bound paper and more than enough knowledge for herself any anyone else who might being traipsing about.
	Though, the next thing to meet her senses wasn’t just any book - no, it was too big to be called such a thing. Maybe “tome” or “mountain of paper” was more apt, but that wasn’t what she was interested in right now - no, it was the text on the page itself. After quickly picking her jaw up from its dangling position, she had made her way over, confusion and wonder starting to rumble its way through her mind for the time being.

	“What… does that even say, anyway…?”

	Whatever runic script was on there, she couldn’t make sense of it - no, she… she needed to figure this out. After all, she wasn’t about to return home empty-handed, right? Now, whatever it said, she’ll have to figure out when she’s got time.

	“Guh… better get out of here before someone notices me.”

	A moment later, she absconds from that place - though, she came back the next day… And the next day. And the day after that. Given enough time, she could figure something out about it, or else she wouldn’t be who she is: Ersza of Caraburn - fighter extraordinaire!