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{{TErow| 20 | Tlamac's Story | Tlamac Hundred Thoughts spake:<p>We could no longer live where our gods were absent; each of the Bloodied Feathers needed to pray at least once a day, clinging to the body of a Couatl, or lose strength. Lizardmen do not take well to intense, dry heat, but the grace of the great serpents was enough for ourselves to feel healthy. What was worse, our wives began laying more and more barren clutches... and even the scarce fertile eggs bore very few females. In just three generations after we moved to the Halls of Blood, our tribe had halved in number.<p>Chief Titipan Two-Tailed did what he had to do. He brought a curse upon himself, but he saved his tribe from degeneration. His band stormed the shaman's halls, slaughtered all who got in the way, and destroyed all the eggs, and then Titipan led the tribe out of the hot caves and back into the stone tunnels beneath the Blue Claw. In the days that followed, many died, unable to endure being separated from their lost gods. Among them was Chief Titipan himself; in his dying hours, he wept and begged the Great Serpent for forgiveness and mercy. Quetzal heeded his plea: those who survived were able to live on with the connection to the Couatls severed, without their blessings... but also without having to sacrifice their future for the sake of the present.<p>Titipan's bodyguards outsmarted not only the shamans but also the Couatls themselves. They had only love and reverence in their souls, so the great serpents failed to sense danger when the warriors, who were hugging their necks and whispering the sacred words of worship, suddenly drew their long knives and slaughtered their gods in an instant—adults, young ones, new hatchlings, and the decrepit ones who no longer left their nests... No one who had raised his hand against a god survived even an hour afterwards; grief killed each one. There was only one tiny hall they had not found; no one knew of it except the direct descendants of Hoatzin and Xochi. In this hall, in a light shoulder basket, there lay a few eggs; Serpent Brother had willed his children to keep them here, no matter what happened or what hardships fell upon the tribe. A young shaman's apprentice, clutching a wound in his side, entered the hall, put the basket on his back with a hiss, and slipped into a secret passage, collapsing it behind him. It was a hundred great turns back. That apprentice's name was Tlamac. He stands before you today.</p>}}
{{TErow| 20 | Tlamac's Story | Tlamac Hundred Thoughts spake:<p>We could no longer live where our gods were absent; each of the Bloodied Feathers needed to pray at least once a day, clinging to the body of a Couatl, or lose strength. Lizardmen do not take well to intense, dry heat, but the grace of the great serpents was enough for ourselves to feel healthy. What was worse, our wives began laying more and more barren clutches... and even the scarce fertile eggs bore very few females. In just three generations after we moved to the Halls of Blood, our tribe had halved in number.<p>Chief Titipan Two-Tailed did what he had to do. He brought a curse upon himself, but he saved his tribe from degeneration. His band stormed the shaman's halls, slaughtered all who got in the way, and destroyed all the eggs, and then Titipan led the tribe out of the hot caves and back into the stone tunnels beneath the Blue Claw. In the days that followed, many died, unable to endure being separated from their lost gods. Among them was Chief Titipan himself; in his dying hours, he wept and begged the Great Serpent for forgiveness and mercy. Quetzal heeded his plea: those who survived were able to live on with the connection to the Couatls severed, without their blessings... but also without having to sacrifice their future for the sake of the present.<p>Titipan's bodyguards outsmarted not only the shamans but also the Couatls themselves. They had only love and reverence in their souls, so the great serpents failed to sense danger when the warriors, who were hugging their necks and whispering the sacred words of worship, suddenly drew their long knives and slaughtered their gods in an instant—adults, young ones, new hatchlings, and the decrepit ones who no longer left their nests... No one who had raised his hand against a god survived even an hour afterwards; grief killed each one. There was only one tiny hall they had not found; no one knew of it except the direct descendants of Hoatzin and Xochi. In this hall, in a light shoulder basket, there lay a few eggs; Serpent Brother had willed his children to keep them here, no matter what happened or what hardships fell upon the tribe. A young shaman's apprentice, clutching a wound in his side, entered the hall, put the basket on his back with a hiss, and slipped into a secret passage, collapsing it behind him. It was a hundred great turns back. That apprentice's name was Tlamac. He stands before you today.</p>}}
{{TErow| 25 | Halfling | {{h|Henrietta|0=}}: We were walking along the path that Tlamac's friends had pointed out to us as a relatively safe one, even for those who had not spent their entire lived in the jungle. We could relax a little here; trying to stay on top of every rustle and shadow was profoundly wearisome, after all. I, however, could not afford such a luxury, as the commander must always be on the lookout. I had begun getting the hang of these woods, and many things previously hidden from me were no longer escaping my attention—but this time, I would have stomped by, never learning the most important thing in my life... if it hadn't been for Wynona. The dark elf's ear twitched, and the next instant she was leaping into the bushes with a dagger drawn. After a few seconds of tussle, she dragged out... a halfling. He was gray-haired, emaciated, and clad in some rags. I examined his body and hands first, trying to decide if he could pose any danger, and only then did I look at his face. It was like another strike of lightning from Frederick's dynamo. A blast from the past. A memory I thought erased.<p>“Unc… Uncle Kett...?”<p>'''Kett: '''“I used to go by that too... Moonchild?!”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Kett! It's me. Me! Henrietta! What moon child? Have you forgotten me?”<p>'''Kett: '''“How could one forget you? That's just what I'm saying. Never thought it'd be you who I’d see before croaking. Just hoped to tell someone. We're fighting. Not all of us have become demon meat yet. There's a war going on.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “What war? The devils are upon someone again? I heard they had gotten served in Erathia. And who's ‘we’?!”<p>'''Kett: '''“We... the ones who stayed behind when you left. Some call us guerrillas, others like ‘cave rats’ more... heh, heh, damn right, we do bite. And when we do, it stings. And you… ohhhh.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Uncle Kett! What's wrong? Wynona! He's barely breathing!”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “Look here, Henrietta. This wound... and this one... If there was any time at all, I could try to drain the infection out of them and reconnect the vessels. I'm sorry, but it's too late now. He's dying. Here’s all I can do...”<p>Wynona gave the dying man a whiff of some elixir, and his eyes opened. Gasping, the halfling mumbled:<p>'''Kett: '''“Listen to me, Henrietta... Erathia and AvLee have invaded Eeofol and are fighting the devils. We wanted to help, so we gathered everyone who could hold a weapon from all our hideouts. Our squad attacked a coastal town of the Kreegans—we snuck in there through an undercroft, and then we got betrayed. Olema, the cursed half-breed... sent those who survived the battle to Kreelah, for Lucifer’s pleasure, but the ship got sunk by pirates... I made it out alone...”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: Kett started wheezing horribly and rolling his eyes back. I grabbed his head and gave him a shake:<p>"Uncle Kett! Unc… Please, breathe, don't go... Your squad? Were there others? And all of them died?”<p>'''Kett: '''“Ahhh… Moonchild... How good to have seen you... Please forgive. I beg you for everyone who... Your... your mother's name was Auna. Ask Tavin about her…”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Tavin? Tavin's alive?! Kett! Kett!”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “He's gone, my friend. Let him rest. He earned it”.<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: I sat on the ground with the old man's head in my lap, swallowing bitter tears. There were no words.<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “I think I know where we're going when we get off these islands.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Wynona, I–”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “You know it full well yourself. I've only known you a short time, but I've learned a lot about you. Your heart is where you were born. Eeofol has lived in your soul all these years. I don't know that place, but it must be beautiful. To bring freedom to your land—what a goal for a true warrior!”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Do you think I'm a warrior too?”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “‘Too’? You mean there are others who say so? Well, then it's time to accept your calling.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “I need to think about it. Maybe Tlamac can help me understand myself…”</p>}}
{{TErow| 25 | Halfling | {{h|Henrietta|0=}}: We were walking along the path that Tlamac's friends had pointed out to us as a relatively safe one, even for those who had not spent their entire lived in the jungle. We could relax a little here; trying to stay on top of every rustle and shadow was profoundly wearisome, after all. I, however, could not afford such a luxury, as the commander must always be on the lookout. I had begun getting the hang of these woods, and many things previously hidden from me were no longer escaping my attention—but this time, I would have stomped by, never learning the most important thing in my life... if it hadn't been for Wynona. The dark elf's ear twitched, and the next instant she was leaping into the bushes with a dagger drawn. After a few seconds of tussle, she dragged out... a halfling. He was gray-haired, emaciated, and clad in some rags. I examined his body and hands first, trying to decide if he could pose any danger, and only then did I look at his face. It was like another strike of lightning from Frederick's dynamo. A blast from the past. A memory I thought erased.<p>“Unc… Uncle Kett...?”<p>'''Kett: '''“I used to go by that too... Moonchild?!”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Kett! It's me. Me! Henrietta! What moon child? Have you forgotten me?”<p>'''Kett: '''“How could one forget you? That's just what I'm saying. Never thought it'd be you who I’d see before croaking. Just hoped to tell someone. We're fighting. Not all of us have become demon meat yet. There's a war going on.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “What war? The devils are upon someone again? I heard they had gotten served in Erathia. And who's ‘we’?!”<p>'''Kett: '''“We... the ones who stayed behind when you left. Some call us guerrillas, others like ‘cave rats’ more... heh, heh, damn right, we do bite. And when we do, it stings. And you… ohhhh.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Uncle Kett! What's wrong? Wynona! He's barely breathing!”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “Look here, Henrietta. This wound... and this one... If there was any time at all, I could try to drain the infection out of them and reconnect the vessels. I'm sorry, but it's too late now. He's dying. Here’s all I can do...”<p>Wynona gave the dying man a whiff of some elixir, and his eyes opened. Gasping, the halfling mumbled:<p>'''Kett: '''“Listen to me, Henrietta... Erathia and AvLee have invaded Eeofol and are fighting the devils. We wanted to help, so we gathered everyone who could hold a weapon from all our hideouts. Our squad attacked a coastal town of the Kreegans—we snuck in there through an undercroft, and then we got betrayed. Olema, the cursed half-breed... sent those who survived the battle to Kreelah, for Lucifer’s pleasure, but the ship got sunk by pirates... I made it out alone...”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: Kett started wheezing horribly and rolling his eyes back. I grabbed his head and gave him a shake:<p>"Uncle Kett! Unc… Please, breathe, don't go... Your squad? Were there others? And all of them died?”<p>'''Kett: '''“Ahhh… Moonchild... How good to have seen you... Please forgive. I beg you for everyone who... Your... your mother's name was Auna. Ask Tavin about her…”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Tavin? Tavin's alive?! Kett! Kett!”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “He's gone, my friend. Let him rest. He earned it”.<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: I sat on the ground with the old man's head in my lap, swallowing bitter tears. There were no words.<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “I think I know where we're going when we get off these islands.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Wynona, I–”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “You know it full well yourself. I've only known you a short time, but I've learned a lot about you. Your heart is where you were born. Eeofol has lived in your soul all these years. I don't know that place, but it must be beautiful. To bring freedom to your land—what a goal for a true warrior!”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “Do you think I'm a warrior too?”<p>{{h|Wynona|0=}}: “‘Too’? You mean there are others who say so? Well, then it's time to accept your calling.”<p>{{h|Henrietta|0=}}: “I need to think about it. Maybe Tlamac can help me understand myself…”</p>}}
{{TErow| 32 | Pactal's Lair | Tlamac Hundred Thoughts spake:<p>Pactal Child Eater is a great leader. Surprised to hear me talk of him so, aren’t you? I am simply way too old to let hatred cloud my judgment. He is strong and flexible, as hard and sharp as a bloodsucker frog's tooth, but his mind is malleable and receptive to anything that might benefit his tribe. Your airboats were attacked by his wyverns—I don't know where Pactal found them, and he certainly doesn't worship them like we worshiped the Couatls... but somehow he's managed to levy such powerful creatures, unheard of in our lands, into his service, and not just them. He was able to make fighters out of the dogheads, who we always thought of as vermin unworthy of even a kick—an angry shout was enough to make them scuttle into the bushes. His warriors sail between the islands in ships, fight in formation, wield weapons and use implements I have never even heard of, and he himself suddenly pops up here and there, and never sleeps in the same field camp two nights in a row. As if he were able to see his enemies' plans two steps ahead. I know something about him, however...<p>Pactal wants to claim all of the islands—if not for himself, then for his son. A few years ago, he stole the clutch laid by the fifth wife of the Bloodied Feathers’ old chieftain, but contrary to his custom, he left some of the eggs uneaten. He is raising one of the girls, intending to marry her; children by her will be his key to unlimited power over all the lizardmen of our islands. And I am not convinced that it would be a bad future for my kin...<p>Anyway, if you are to snatch the Hollow Eye from Pactal, you will have to find the place where the Child Eater is keeping his future wife. Surely that's where he spends all his time between his campaigns. Old Tlamac has friends among the unseen spirits of the woods and marshes. Listen to what they told me…<p>Only the select few Pactal has no doubts about can enter his lair. Those are the commanders of his guard, and there is also one pirate captain, the one who sold him the Hollow Eye, who enjoys such trust. Fortunately for you, the lizardmen have a very poor memory for human faces... They recognize the captain by his armor, shield, trident, and crown, all intricate artifacts of great power. I think you could try to find similar ones. If one of your warriors appears before the guards wearing them, they will take him for the captain and allow him to enter. They will demand that the artifacts be handed over to them for safekeeping, but at that point, that will no longer matter.</p>}}
{{TErow| 32 | Pactal's Lair | Tlamac Hundred Thoughts spake:
Pactal Child Eater is a great leader. Surprised to hear me talk of him so, aren’t you? I am simply way too old to let hatred cloud my judgment. He is strong and flexible, as hard and sharp as a bloodsucker frog's tooth, but his mind is malleable and receptive to anything that might benefit his tribe. Your airboats were attacked by his wyverns—I don't know where Pactal found them, and he certainly doesn't worship them like we worshiped the Couatls... but somehow he's managed to levy such powerful creatures, unheard of in our lands, into his service, and not just them. He was able to make fighters out of the dogheads, who we always thought of as vermin unworthy of even a kick—an angry shout was enough to make them scuttle into the bushes. His warriors sail between the islands in ships, fight in formation, wield weapons and use implements I have never even heard of, and he himself suddenly pops up here and there, and never sleeps in the same field camp two nights in a row. As if he were able to see his enemies' plans two steps ahead. I know something about him, however...<p>Pactal wants to claim all of the islands—if not for himself, then for his son. A few years ago, he stole the clutch laid by the fifth wife of the Bloodied Feathers’ old chieftain, but contrary to his custom, he left some of the eggs uneaten. He is raising one of the girls, intending to marry her; children by her will be his key to unlimited power over all the lizardmen of our islands. And I am not convinced that it would be a bad future for my kin...<p>Anyway, if you are to snatch the Hollow Eye from Pactal, you will have to find the place where the Child Eater is keeping his future wife. Surely that's where he spends all his time between his campaigns. Old Tlamac has friends among the unseen spirits of the woods and marshes. Listen to what they told me…<p>Only the select few Pactal has no doubts about can enter his lair. Those are the commanders of his guard, and there is also one pirate captain, the one who sold him the Hollow Eye, who enjoys such trust. Fortunately for you, the lizardmen have a very poor memory for human faces... They recognize the captain by his armor, shield, trident, and crown, all intricate artifacts of great power. I think you could try to find similar ones. If one of your warriors appears before the guards wearing them, they will take him for the captain and allow him to enter. They will demand that the artifacts be handed over to them for safekeeping, but at that point, that will no longer matter.</p>}}
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