- Messages
- 11
- Character Biography
- Link
Two sets of burning eyes gazed out from the shadows - orbs of unblinking fire that hung tangled amid withered vines and grasping branches. A forked tongue cut the air below the eyes, seeming to emerge from the darkness itself before vanishing again. Yet the eyes remained, their reptillian stare following the fissures of shattered earth below.
From high amid the treetops the shadow dwellers could see for themselves the destruction in its entirety. Huts made of wood beams and draped skins had been pulverized into little more than shreds and splinters. Rolling wetland, once lush with putrid forms of slimey greenery, had been shattered by earthly fissures that now webbed out across the old marshes. Worst of all had been the flooding.
Deep in the center of the Saurian Boglands the worst of the god's wrath had struck. Vents of steam boiled the mighty Gavirag by the dozens as the swamp waters writhed. Here in the God's Eyes, where the Black Blood Brood Tribe lived beneath the largest opening in the treetops of the swamp and bred their young from the most holy of spawning pits, they had perhaps suffered even worse. Though they had not boiled as the Gavirag had, the shaking of the earth had split their holy spawning pool asunder - and when the bog water rose it did not spare their holy place.
What was once a grand pond bristling in the bones and black ooze of the ancients had been turned into a murky crater filled with only water. Even the unhatched young had been claimed by the receding bog - lost to death or to be born outside the ancient's embrace. The sorrow had carried on throughout the day and night. Now on the dawning of the day after the quakes the sorrow had not subsided at all. Saurag of the Brood gathered in dozens to lower their heads and raise their tails beneath their once grand skylight into the world above - now mostly obscured by massive, fallen trees. In unison they roared in prayer to the sky for answers. The stars answered only in silence. Those who did not pray trampled about their broken home and scavenged what was left. Others battered one another in single combat- confused and angry with nowhere to pit their primal aggression except on each others.
And yet still there was one other group among them. A gathering that neither cried to the skies, nor battered their tribemates. Instead, this gathering huddled around a central figure whose crest horns were adorned with bronze caps that contrasted harshly against his azure scales. Standing above the others, who were lain in the bed of musk and moss that layered the ground, this central figure growled, clicked and roared in the Saurian tongue - his scales phasing from dark to light blue and back again as his body worked to convey meaning in his words.
The shadow veiled observers recognized nothing about him other than his apparent importance.
"This one" began one of the observers, its voice low - a difficult feat for a tongue such as Saurian - "Is their Skyspeaker?"
The confusion was evident in the hues of the observer's scales as it spoke - phasing from grey to purple and back again. Unlike the beasts below, these creatures were Corag - much smaller cousins whose tails wrapped around the branches that held them in place. Where those below were large and spiked, the observers were slender and mostly spineless.
"He's more scar than scale" the first observer added, his fiery eyes narrowing on the form of who was decidely Kraq-Gal.
"Saurag value muscle over wisdom, Tok-Tok" the second observer said to the first, whose name was Tok-Tok, "it is why we come. To be of muscle is of use. Speak to him as you would the sky. He will help us to have the Broken Place."
Tok-Tok flicked his forked tongue through his fangs, causing a low rattle that would mean to his friend what a displeased sigh would from one human to another. "Why must I come with you on this, Qul-Kek? There are many others who would be pleased to speak to the Tramplers."
"No one wishes to be first to speak to a Trampler. But this is of importance. No Trampler is amused as much by others as they are you." Another rattle escaped Tok-Tok as he looked onward at the beast he'd been sent to negotiate with. It was true...he had an unfortunate knack for getting along with tramplers.
"As it is wished, then." Tok-Tok said as he placed his sticky, padded fingers against a nearby branch and unfurled his tail from the trunk he'd been perched on.
"Let this be fast - I wish not to be at this Trampler's side for long"
From high amid the treetops the shadow dwellers could see for themselves the destruction in its entirety. Huts made of wood beams and draped skins had been pulverized into little more than shreds and splinters. Rolling wetland, once lush with putrid forms of slimey greenery, had been shattered by earthly fissures that now webbed out across the old marshes. Worst of all had been the flooding.
Deep in the center of the Saurian Boglands the worst of the god's wrath had struck. Vents of steam boiled the mighty Gavirag by the dozens as the swamp waters writhed. Here in the God's Eyes, where the Black Blood Brood Tribe lived beneath the largest opening in the treetops of the swamp and bred their young from the most holy of spawning pits, they had perhaps suffered even worse. Though they had not boiled as the Gavirag had, the shaking of the earth had split their holy spawning pool asunder - and when the bog water rose it did not spare their holy place.
What was once a grand pond bristling in the bones and black ooze of the ancients had been turned into a murky crater filled with only water. Even the unhatched young had been claimed by the receding bog - lost to death or to be born outside the ancient's embrace. The sorrow had carried on throughout the day and night. Now on the dawning of the day after the quakes the sorrow had not subsided at all. Saurag of the Brood gathered in dozens to lower their heads and raise their tails beneath their once grand skylight into the world above - now mostly obscured by massive, fallen trees. In unison they roared in prayer to the sky for answers. The stars answered only in silence. Those who did not pray trampled about their broken home and scavenged what was left. Others battered one another in single combat- confused and angry with nowhere to pit their primal aggression except on each others.
And yet still there was one other group among them. A gathering that neither cried to the skies, nor battered their tribemates. Instead, this gathering huddled around a central figure whose crest horns were adorned with bronze caps that contrasted harshly against his azure scales. Standing above the others, who were lain in the bed of musk and moss that layered the ground, this central figure growled, clicked and roared in the Saurian tongue - his scales phasing from dark to light blue and back again as his body worked to convey meaning in his words.
The shadow veiled observers recognized nothing about him other than his apparent importance.
"This one" began one of the observers, its voice low - a difficult feat for a tongue such as Saurian - "Is their Skyspeaker?"
The confusion was evident in the hues of the observer's scales as it spoke - phasing from grey to purple and back again. Unlike the beasts below, these creatures were Corag - much smaller cousins whose tails wrapped around the branches that held them in place. Where those below were large and spiked, the observers were slender and mostly spineless.
"He's more scar than scale" the first observer added, his fiery eyes narrowing on the form of who was decidely Kraq-Gal.
"Saurag value muscle over wisdom, Tok-Tok" the second observer said to the first, whose name was Tok-Tok, "it is why we come. To be of muscle is of use. Speak to him as you would the sky. He will help us to have the Broken Place."
Tok-Tok flicked his forked tongue through his fangs, causing a low rattle that would mean to his friend what a displeased sigh would from one human to another. "Why must I come with you on this, Qul-Kek? There are many others who would be pleased to speak to the Tramplers."
"No one wishes to be first to speak to a Trampler. But this is of importance. No Trampler is amused as much by others as they are you." Another rattle escaped Tok-Tok as he looked onward at the beast he'd been sent to negotiate with. It was true...he had an unfortunate knack for getting along with tramplers.
"As it is wished, then." Tok-Tok said as he placed his sticky, padded fingers against a nearby branch and unfurled his tail from the trunk he'd been perched on.
"Let this be fast - I wish not to be at this Trampler's side for long"
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