She didn't want to know that he'd used the stone to make his new weapon. She didn't want to know where he'd gotten it or where it came from. It was expressingly forbidden to use Alchemy in most parts of Astarii, it was against the very Gods. Not to mention those Perubian bastards were the masters of such things and their names were as vile as the Drow in Astarii. Too many good men had died in the deserts because of the Perubs. Aeotha herself had witnessed enough of the desert to know the only people who would live there were the worst kind of bastards. The heat was almost worse than the dangers of the Underdark itself. She wouldn't ask. But curiosity lit her eyes for only a moment.
Aeotha did not hate Skandra for using alchemy, nor had she hated his grandfather. In fact, Alchemy itself didn't do anything, but it was the people whom mastered it and used it that she disliked. Normally. She stilled her tongue and watched the two of them with mild interest. Another sword. Something she definately didn't want anything to do with.
"If Fenrir gets close enough be sure to flay him. I'd love to do the same to him." For many reasons. Aeotha did not voice them, instead she was thinking about how she was going to explain everything to Iluvatar, or if she'd even have the chance. She didn't know.