Lizardmen RPG - Accepting new players

Grumbling under his breath about the inability of saurus to understand things, Tiqxoltiq explained, for what felt like the umpteenth time, that the Salamander was not to be food! It took effort, but he finally thought he got the idea to sink in. Ordering the saurus to take the Salamander to the herder's compound for treatment, he followed them to make certain they did as ordered!

Looking around as the water ran all around him he looked for his dagger, his tails feathers dancing in the wind as water droplets fall from it. He goes to the other side of the stream and begins to look from the other side now, nothing. Looking for what seemed hours he began to wonder if his dagger was flung far off while he fell down the massive hill or if he had dropped it while being dragged. After finally all but giving up Xolek looks up at a tree in desperation, and there it was, impaled in its trunk high up.

Noticing the sun lower in the sky, Xolek begins to slowly climb the tree to retrieve the dagger, though it takes him longer than expected due to his exhausted and wounded state. Finally able to pry it from the wood he slowly slides back down and tries to find his sense of direction. With the canopy so dense the skink is not able to find help from the stars, and instead looks to the physical world around him. Thinking to himself he knew the camp was near a swamp, and he was pretty sure this creek flowed from it, or was it flowing towards it? Going back to the dead animal, the oracle slices thin amounts of rib and thigh meat, and slings it over his shoulder. He could not remember which direction to travel, in what is a total guess given his disorientation the Oracle begins walking up stream hoping to find the same swamp or another lizardmen, and hopefully nothing wanting to eat or capture him. He decided if it got too dark and he did not find his way he would climb a tree until morning.

Walking along the gentle stream the skink looks about him as insects buzz about, picking pollen out of flowers near by. On the other side of the bank a herd of Parasaurolphalus eye him before going about fishing out deeper creek vegetation from its bed. Walking slowly not to startle them he takes in their beauty, their crests bright oranges with blues cascading down their back like a giant tattoo. Continuing for at least an hour he feels he is not getting any closer to where he wants to be and stops a moment to think of his next action

It seemed that two heads were enough to convince the Kroxigor to abandon the thought of cooking a giant lizard. Seeing the Salamander slowly being carried away by the group of Saurus, Quas secured his cleaver on its back and slowly returned towards the camp uttering curses that made his fellow Skinks sigh followed by the sounds of relief.
Reaching the camp kitchen he took a few bites of whatever he found to fight the hunger and the mood and shortly after he started preparations for the meals which were supposed to be given out to the camp members once the group rejoins again.
Taking few pieces of meat that were more suited to eat by Skinks and Kroxi he checked back to Zuztle as soon as he could.

Thinking to himself Xahanol grunted, How dare these saurus and kroxigors just show up and try to steal the salamander… How dare they choose to Igno-, Suddenly The beast tamers thoughts were cut off when he noticed a large bush laid out in front of him, the skinks eyes attracted to the faint smeers of blood that dotted its many distruped leaves, Surely Xolek must have something to do with it…

Continuing to mumble, The skink follows in the oracles trail entering into the thick undergrowth where he finds a large puddle of blood that seems to route away in another direction… The pictures of the hyaenodon lying down, hiding amongst the bush and xolek following it play out in Xahanols mind as he follows the fresh trail of scrapes bloody smears and imprints until the path abruptly ends at the edge of a large downward slope now dotted with the many signs of desperate struggle….

-----

Stomping his foot onto the sodden ground Tiqxoltiq seemed to be finally getting somewhere with the saurus that now showed a glimpse of understanding towards what the frantic priest was attempting to portray.


After several more minutes, Tik eventually ordered that the two warriors took the beast to the Herder’s compound for it to be finally treated, obviously under intense observation from himself.

The two saurus weaved their way through huts and buildings painfully slowly as a result of their loping slow gait. Until the pair and the priest finally entered the large more permanent structure clearly symbolised by two great stone brazzers, each boasting a magnificent display of flames that competed with each other for controlling the dancing light that illuminated the buildings wide entranceway and the large banner that hung within, its crimson fabric contrasting with the large skull centered within it, the skulls bleached bone frill and horns casting down a fear-inducing shadow onto the ground below.

Entering into the spacious well lit building Tik could see an array smaller empty pens and holding areas, the space above them occupied by yet again more colourful banners, each one housing their own unique skull.

The wall opposite was filled with many tools and similar pieces of equipment that hung on chains or laches, each one acutely designed for a specific purpose far beyond the understanding of a priest.

In the center of the main room was a group of three skinks, clearly identified as beast tamers not only due to the large insignia plastered onto their shoulders but also their belts filled with more tools and gadgets…

----

The smell of sizzling meat and the sight of his beloved stove burning with enthusiasm was only able to alleviate a fraction of the Kroxigors sorrow over the lost meal, the thoughts of salamander fin soup gurgling down his throat or the crunching of tendons as a pair of jaws clamped down onto a segment of tail only able to fade now that the kroxigors simple mind was occupied by the task of preparing an evening meal for both the camp and the others that still rested within Zuztles hut.


After what seemed like forever he line of crispy dried jungle bats suspended above the crackling fire began to sputter out globules of scalding fat as Quas slowly reached out to grab one, only realising too late that they were burning hot causing his hand to blister and burn, however despite the pain the kroxigor did not place the cooked creature back down but instead he grabbed the others in a sign of his frustration and anger over the inability for both Tik and Xahanol to understand the salamanders purpose…

Kicking the dirt Quas mumbled that the pair of skinks were not even worthy of a meal tonight...

----


Reminiscing of his days amongst Hexoatl Kuoteq’s emotions capriciously bounced from immeasurable sorrow and regret to elated joy, diving and weaving back and forth like a skilled terradon rider darting between Lustria’s huge trees.

The images of anger, affection, sorrow and sadness flicked through his thoughts whilst his body experienced searing agony from his burning wounds, blissful alleviation as the blue elixir seeped into his body and glorious delight as the ants thick honey sloshed in his content mouth and throat…

Taking another deep breath Kuoteq’eko allowed the muffled sounds of Hakal and Zuztle conversing fade as he turned around to gaze out of a window, drops of refreshing rain trickling its way down his outstretched arm as the smoky dusk breeze revitalised his lungs with every breath.

Now staring beyond the camp the priest could watch the eternal battle of night and day unfold, Chotecs rage pushed back by an army of Yuxa’s warriors as their graceful leader shone with lushious silver rays/

The far structures that made up the ruins bathed in the last rays of golden amber light as the high peaks and mountains began to cast down their shadows with vigor, like standing centuries throwing down their weapons ready for rest.

Gazing longingly Kuoteq’s vision faded as the sun retreated below the tree line finally allowing the skink to rest...

----
the familiar smell of rain hitting the soil and the chorus of insects, birds animals, a melody of buzzes hums and chirps envocing the thoughts of the many restless nights Xolek had spent wandering the wilds, At home in the jungle and amongst the trees he did not fear the darkness of night, in fact the peacefulness of it soothed him in a strange way…


Now pushing his exhausted body to its limits in the hope of eventually finding his way back to camp a dull repetitive pain was slowly creeping into Xoleks legs as he continued like the strangling vines that clung onto the tree’s nearby with such anguish and bitterness. Each step sending a jarring ache that soon stretched from not only his legs but also to his three pronged tail that flicked and coiled in anticipation of nightfall.

Eventually Xolek’s numbed mind was sent back into action as he noticed the Creek turn into a stream as it further widened out to become a marshland, the once crystal clear water slowly turning a dirt swamp brown as further collections of algae and particles of mud gathered in a storm of particles creating the perfect environment for a sea of microbial life.

The signs The oracle had been waiting for drove him further until the jungle itself was left behind, leaving Xolek wading through a large mangrove swamp open to the sky.

The darkness above filled with a sea of stars all now bowing to the Moon itself that shone with a dazzling brilliance igniting Xolek’s obsidian silver scales in a bewitching reflection of the sky itself, his skin turned into cramped constellations and stars whilst his eyes became pale celestial orbs that pierced the darkness with blinding rays.


During those few seconds as that the moon's rays shone down on him, Xolek felt his whole body energize, flowing with an enigmatic power that not only enhanced his muscles but also his keen intellect before a yearning, burning desire and passion flooded his whole form sending him spiralling into the mud, As both his raw sentiment and exhaustion overcame the Oracle o-of… of s-Sotek?.

Okay, obviously the Hyenadon ambushed him here. No bodies visible yet, he'd carefully start to pick his way down the slope, seeking any hand holds, or safe path he could to avoid falling down it and causing further injury to his already hurting body.

Tiqxoltiq conferred with the handlers as they tried to assess whether or not the Salamander would survive the night. Shaking his head, he addressed them as a group. "This is beyond my meager skills as a healer. I will leave it to the three of you and your skills. Should the beast be beyond saving, take it to a kroxigor named Quas in the cooking area, he will know what to do with it. Meanwhile, do you have anything special I could bring to Quas as a peace offering? I was forced to be hard with him to prevent him from turning the beast into food."

Plummeting down into the marsh waters the exhausted skink barely catches himself before his head goes under. Looking up at the moon he feels a sense of belonging and understanding, his scales still reflecting the sky Xolek looks at his body speechless.

Trying to make sense of it he begins to memorize any constellation he can make out, soon the orbs on his tail also ignite in bright light. Panicd he runs towards the shore, never has this happened before.

Seeing a large tree in the distance near the opposite shore Xolek begins to run his exhausted frame towards it. Each step forward the water fights him, wearing him down even more. Unsure of his location or the dangers that lurk in the dark in this area specifically, he figures it best to sleep in the safety of a tree and return to camp in the morning. If he was in fact further away than he thought, well, that was ok with him, the jungle was in fact home.

Dagger and Carnosaur tooth firm in hand he Wade's desperately on.

Turning his nose up a little at the smell, Tik pondered the idea and sighed. "Not the best option, but it will do. I thank you." Taking some of the fish from the handlers, he takes his leave of them and heads back towards the rest of the camp. He finds Quas back in the kitchen doing... possibly unspeakable things... to some hyaenadon meat. Walking up carefully, making sure to announce his presence, Tiqxoltiq holds the fish up before him as he approaches. "My apologies, Quas. I know you had a hankering for Salamander meat, but the handlers had already claimed the beast as theirs. We need them to control the Ahuatli, so we must placate their demands. Perhaps these fish will suffice as a peace offering for now?"

They swat at the flies trying to get at their own wounds, hissing in worry. If the hyenadon is here..where is Xolek? They tried to look for more tracks, but with the fading light of Chotec it was becoming more and more worrying to be this far from camp, especially alone and near a corpse that would no doubt be attracting predators and/or carrion eaters soon.

The Kroxigor turned to the Skink standing with a bucket of fish. Quas' figure and movements were showing a sign of fatigue, though no longer bearing the signs of anger. He fixed his saddened look on the lizardman that just spoke and responded slowly and carefully - "Will do... we eat fish with Skinks when young. My thanks. More food to the camp... more happy I am". He took the fish bucket and emptied it on the cooking slab he used to cook other kinds of meat before. Shortly after the fish started to fry and the Kroxigor placed the various spices upon the frying meat.

The screeches of birds flocking in the canopy above was enough of a reminder that predators would soon no doubt be attracted to the feast, causing Xahanol to swiftly move onwards in the pursuit of the oracles tracks.

Eventually, the skink found a small set of faded prints in the mud, The sign gently reminding the handler that Xolek was still moving and had not suffered as worse of a fate as the hyenadon.

As he progressed the path become more worn and washes away by the gentle dripping of the rain above, causing the prints to be drowned in a slosh of sodden dirt and sludge leaving the tiered and now desperate skink with all but snapped twigs and slight hints to the oracles trail.

Winding down paths and twisted routes that slit through perilous groves the skink spiralled away, leading himself into a maze of deeper tree’s that twisted above in a maniacal sprawl for sunlight creating an almost subterranean cave system under and between the weaves of the many trunks…

Vines and plants suffocated the tree’s whilst sharp impaling roots pierced the sodden and bare ground where not even the normally abundant undergrowth dared grow.

Hearing the squeal of a bat ensnared in a tangle of webs above Xahanol’s tries to reason with himself were all but hopeless, his gut feeling was now screaming at him as he tried to ignore the fact that all he was achieving in following the labyrinth of paths was putting further distance between himself and the warmth of camp...


Soon the dim moonlight that filtered through the maze above would cease, leaving the skink alone with the winds winding howls that echoed and distorted into a whimpering laughter emanating from the treacherous trunks that formed the cavern that now encased him...

----

Quas couldn't help but drool as the assortment of both small and large fish fried crisp, their smooth scales reflecting the moonlight as their flesh flamed with fiery red whilst spitting out flecks of steaming syrup that fizzled on the kroxigors scales as he leaned in letting the luscious scent intoxicate him with memories of his past...

Breathing in the tingling smell Quas backed away to grab an assortment of tantalising spices and herbs before once again returning ready to envelop the meal with a firey red powder that blazes in the mouth like eating flames, Small collections of grubs and worms that melt in the mouth and other various seasonings.

Standing proud He admired his work, No meal was to hard for Quas to make exquisite given the right equipment, There was no doubt in his mind that he was the best cook in the Tlaxtlan area let alone the camp, perhaps even the whole of Oldonedamn Lustria!

Quickly scooping up the fish and grabbing an already prepared gourd of crisp insects Quas heads over to Zuztle’s Hut, his once angry stomping turning into a gleeful bounce.

Crashing through the door Quas quickly drew the attention of both Hakal and Zuztle both deep in concentration, whilst Kuoteq’Eko dozed quietly in the corner unmoving in a deep slumber.

Zuztle’s Expressive eye turned from alarm to excitement as he got up and approached the other kroxigor peering into Quas’s hands at the feast laid out in front of him…

“O-oh Quas! Come in, come in.. How are the wounds holding up?” The healer rambles in between the crunches of a small insect he was already chewing.

----

Pushing himself further, Xolek struggles with the sodden mud that clings onto his feet so desperately in the attempt at escaping its watery grave amongst the reeds and fish in a howl of muffled squelch screams.


Soon the lone oracle is able to reach the bank, the second he begins to fend off the mud’s grasp gritty sand and gravel take its place, clinging onto the skink's feet with fervour as the grains hopelessly scrape and dig.

Taking deep long breaths of the cool night air Xolek Scrambles onto a tree, settling himself onto a large low hanging branch, it's many gnarls and twists make it uncomfortable as the skink lies down… Xolek shunned comfort and so did his wailing limbs that cried for immediate rest, Comfort and warmth was a sign of permanence and staying put, Something foreign to the oracle always moving, always alert, always searching, searching for something he couldn't explain ever since he had spawned....


As he usually did when needing to get to sleep Xolek looked up at the friendly moon watching down on him with its calming gaze promising both protection and a level of warmth comfort could never provide.

As the skink now rested his other senses suppressed and faded leaving only his vision of the swamp, the dancing rhythmic movements of fireflies as they gently flash in harmony lulling him into a deeper sleep...

Well small blessings. The rain would make it harder to track, but at least my scent is more hidden. Xahanol began to look for a suitable place to sleep, using their knowledge of the Beasts of the swamps of Lustria to find a relatively safe place that would hide them from any hungry predators, so maybe they could sleep till morning without getting eaten.

Rain drops lightly fall into the swamp below creating small ripples across the surface of the water. Lily pads below catch some of the drops creating a choir of peaceful noise with the drops hitting the water that are pleasing to the ear. Xolek drifts off on a bed of large jungle leaves he quickly created with the last of his energy. As fireflies fly around the trees above in the cover of their large leaves the Oracle feels at peace in the night. He begins to dream of the two moons dancing around each other, Morsleb corrupting the other and then reversing as Morsleb is purified, the dream continues on as if on repeat.

Jungle animals howl in the night as the Moon lights the jungle below, Xolek-Zi's scales still reflecting the constellations above. Fast asleep the Oracle awaits the dawn

Hakal gazed out towards the feast held in Quas' hands. He felt alleviated from the fellow kroxigor's sight, and yet, surprised from the sudden appearance.

Though Hakal couldn't remember the last time he ate, his jaws never watered despite his love of fish. His mind was entirely captivated by trying to learn this incomprehensible practice naming itself 'healing.'

And as the hours flew by, his stomach ached and growled from the lack of progress made.

"No Thanks, Quas."

"Um, fine" - responded the large figure of the Kroxigor entering the small hut of the healer's. "This..." - his look now pointing to the food he brought - "..my thanks offering for you... and hurt friends... and you, Hakal... you too hungry!".
Couple of bats and fish later Quas could be found staring at the other Kroxigor's learning attempts with slightly surprised pair of eyes. Not eating the whole time Hakal seemed to be completely absorbed with it. This definitely looked a bit like cooking, as Quas noticed, seeing his brother in spawn's attempts to sew something and pour some stinking substances on.
Couple more of bats later he turned to Zuztle once again - "Can it smell good and... taste good... you know... to heal?".

Looking up one last time Xahanol could see the squirming bat frantically trying to escape the web’s clinging grip, Its frantic attempts only achieving to drive itself further into the sticky tangle but also sending a series of desperate and rapid vibrations up the strings...

Not sticking around to find out what would answer the bats struggles the handler moved on swiftly, clearly sleeping amongst the sprawling branches that would surely be draped in a thick layer of silk would not be a good idea.

Using his incredible knowledge of Lustria’s Fauna Xahanol looks around in the minutes before the silver moonlight showering through the leaves above would fade, his knowledge leading him towards a sheltered cove carved out below a large tree trunk by years of water and rain clawing away at the soft mud. (-1 Beast handling (Knowledge), Leaving Xahanol with 0 remaining)

Tiered Feet sliding along the waterlogged ground, the skink carefully enters the small small cove, its earth walls encapsulating him whilst the entrance was obscured by a thick veil of roots and ferns.

It wasn’t much, but it would be better than sleeping out in the open where the firece elements would bombard him and he would also run the risk of becoming another easy meal.

Zuztle meets Quas’s gaze before the ancient skink sniffs a small chunk of fried fish in his hand. “W-well.. It c-Can.. Taste and s-smell good but not as good as this” He mumbles whilst grabbing a handful of cooked crickets.

“Look.. Quas t-take a seat” Zuztle mentions before shoving one of the large books into Hakals hands and getting up to search the shelves until he eventually finds another small book, it's surface caked in a layer of dust.

Straining his eyes to read the title Quas patiently waits for the skink to slowly return, his steps painfully slow. until after what seemed like minutes Zuztle returns and flicks through the book, dragging his finger along with the chapter's title, “H-here, This is the page”.

“Err… Her-bal recipe, Herbal Recipe-s a-and other… other Healing Cu-Cuisine.” Quas slowly reads aloud in full concentration, the words tripping up on each other as they slur from his large toothed mouth.


“Yes.. Herbal recipes” Zuztle repeats as the skink turns the pages, each one cluttered with diagrams and scrawled faded writing almost impossible for Quas to read as he bulks unable to comprehend the complex instructions as Zuztle’s words become little more than a blur.


“Look at this one, Ingredients: - a sprinkle of ground fire root, two chunks of Lzandri’s bark and a crushed pyre beetle larva… Effects: Once consu…

Quas’s mind begins to wander, focusing on rest and sleep as the confusing words fade…


‘SNAP’ The noise quickly jolts both kroxigors out of their seats, instantly grabbing their slipping attention back to the skink who was holding the book now firmly closed before he spoke out taking a deep breath. “Listen.. I think the both of you should get some rest, Q-quas, Wounds heal with good sleep… A-And Hakal, Perhaps I can teach you more a-another time but K-knowledge is sure to sink in far faster after a good night's rest... ”


Allowing his voice to fill the silent room Zuztle gets up and checks on Kuoteq before he guides himself over to a set of shelves where he replaces the two books and begins to light up a small pan of scented oil, its fumes filling the air with a relaxing meditative scent whilst the flame flickers its cast shadows dancing on the walls…

In a way pleased to be dismissed Quas heads out of the door with the remaining fish and bats, the cool night wind brushing against his body as he heads to the warmth of his stove where he can hand out the remaining food to the skinks that had gathered around the central fire nearby.


Hands now empty and stomach filled the content kroxigor lowered himself down onto a flat rock aside the stove, its superheated rocks not only provides heat but also shelter from the wind and rain.

Rolling onto his back Quas looks up to see the stars that slowly move to form the shape of fading meats, fruits and other dishes as he allows sleep to consume him in the way that he would consume a bite of fish.

Dazed Xahanol’s eyelids slowly part revealing nothing but more darkness, Feeling around with his numb and cold arm’s the skink is encased in a tomb of damp dirt and a prison of gnarled tree roots…

Panic overcoming him he desperately scrambles and claws at the dirt around him in a wild attempt to escape from the mud cocoon, soft chunks falling into the puddle he sits in with a splash coating his frail body in yet another layer of mud.

Feeling trapped, helpless and imprisoned the skink flails wildly pushing and jabbing a veil roots out of the way allowing him to poke his head out from the earthy grave, giving him a chance to draw in long breaths of the cool night air that stings and freezes his rasping lungs.

Soon the memories flooded back to him… The hyaenodons… Xolek missing… Rapidly the images of the previous day were flickering through his head when suddenly they stopped dead in their tracks, Something was moving… Something was moving out there in the darkness…

In Between the noise of water dropping onto rotten leaves is a rapid tapping followed by a whimpering vibration Erriely reflecting a warped and twisted cat’s purr, The noises alien and strange to the skink he quickly recedes back into the cove as the air around him becomes thicker and almost suffocating. Now further back He Holds his breath and tenses every muscle in his body and searches the darkness for any sign of movement…


Eyes adjusting to the gloom he swallows hard as the blurred outlines of perverted treacherous tree’s become visible, their fettered trunks suffocating each other in coiling twists in an abhorrent attempt to kill and strangle.


Soon plants crowding the tree’s and floor become visible, their thick stalks gently swaying, moving forward in a strange rhythmic dance… Moving forward… Xahanol tries not to jump back as he realises that these shapes fumbling in the darkness were no plants… They were alive.


Asphyxiated Xahanol’s body threatened to give way and pass out as he strained to look further into the gloom, the sinister shadows crawling down from the treetops and onto the ground, their many feet tapping on the ground like raindrops hitting rotten leaves.

Suddenly One of the unknowing creatures drags itself down from the tree above, giving the terrified skink a mere glimpse of the horrifying abominations that stalked the darkness…




Its fur shaggy and covered in a thick layer of crimson mud, its eyes gleaming with malicious alien intent whilst its huge mouth slobbers, revealing shining sharp fangs still stained with the blood of their latest meal.

Xahanol’s uncontrollable heart races as he looks on in pure terror, threatening to give him away as the skink struggles with the pulse that so desperately wants to send his body into a shuddering shamble that would immediately alert the creature lying above of his existence.


Sprawling its many legs out the arachnid’s acute hairs search and probe for tremors and vibrations before it moves on in an almost excited frenzy following the others of its kind that seemingly materialise from the rotting trunks or soaked ground, all in a wicked synchrony the spiders focus on a muffled shout. The gurgling words “X-a” only barely noticeable above the storm of rabid tapping.

Seconds later Xahanol can see a faint, almost ghostly light flickering in the far distance only now revealed as its source is snuffed out in a smother of hateful crawling limbs that desperelty extinguish it.

(Xahanol may choose to use his beast tamer passive to assesss the creatures stats and other characteristics)