The Naga warlord nodded his head as they moved forward, saying, "It could change the tide of battles, should it be on our side." Yet such a slave is far beyond the feeble beastfolk that litter the pens like cattle. This beast is known to unleash carnage upon the land, conjuring rivers of death from its teeth with a single bite—such a thing does not submit easily, be it for pride or strength.
Moonlight trickled in through the verdant canopy, illuminating the jungle floor they stepped on with its light. Trees stretched out into the sky around them, their roots coating the ground like an unstoppable growth. Flora permeated the ground, exotic and rare compared to the mainland. Bright flowers mingled with stretching vines, painting a scene as beautiful as it was alien to the drow, as accustomed to caverns as they were.
Nagai was a land untouched by Skinned Ones, and so it has flourished in their absence.
As dense as the jungle was, dotted with spires of wood and stone alike, the Naga moved through with expertise to their movements. They effortlessly slithered through the rough terrain, unhindered by countless amounts of roots and stones that stood in their path. The children of this land, they roamed it as such.
Yet as they moved through the jungle, there was an ever-constant sensation of being watched. It only grew stronger as they continued onward. The earth began bearing the marks of heavy footprints, divots where claws once rested, leading to a small alcove of rock where numerous nests laid.
Tir'Coatl threw an arm up, signalling to the party to stop at once. "This is a den of Galtrags, about four. Large predators and, of course, territorial," he whispered quietly to Zathria.
As he spoke, they heard the cracking of leaves and branches around them. The beasts knew their presence and merely waited for the correct time to charge. Some rested in the trees above, while others remained hidden in the underbrush.
Moonlight trickled in through the verdant canopy, illuminating the jungle floor they stepped on with its light. Trees stretched out into the sky around them, their roots coating the ground like an unstoppable growth. Flora permeated the ground, exotic and rare compared to the mainland. Bright flowers mingled with stretching vines, painting a scene as beautiful as it was alien to the drow, as accustomed to caverns as they were.
Nagai was a land untouched by Skinned Ones, and so it has flourished in their absence.
As dense as the jungle was, dotted with spires of wood and stone alike, the Naga moved through with expertise to their movements. They effortlessly slithered through the rough terrain, unhindered by countless amounts of roots and stones that stood in their path. The children of this land, they roamed it as such.
Yet as they moved through the jungle, there was an ever-constant sensation of being watched. It only grew stronger as they continued onward. The earth began bearing the marks of heavy footprints, divots where claws once rested, leading to a small alcove of rock where numerous nests laid.
Tir'Coatl threw an arm up, signalling to the party to stop at once. "This is a den of Galtrags, about four. Large predators and, of course, territorial," he whispered quietly to Zathria.
As he spoke, they heard the cracking of leaves and branches around them. The beasts knew their presence and merely waited for the correct time to charge. Some rested in the trees above, while others remained hidden in the underbrush.
