Lizardmen RPG - Accepting new players

Suddenly, Or rather eventually, considering the sheer amount of effort and time it took for the skinks, Quas is hoisted back into reality. As he wakes the ringing in his ears is replaced with the low hum of insects and chirping of birds as they make final roosting preparations. The jungle is alive, and so too is the makeshift camp.

Skinks now fed and no longer tiered rush around in small groups completing various tasks. some carry small boxes and crates. others work to distribute smaller rations amongst one another. whilst a handful guide kroxigors who hoist artefacts onto the now prepared Ahuatli.

Likewise the expeditions saurian’s now form regiment five-strong up ahead before their designated leader awaiting his orders - The hulking figure that is Tezka, his raw size and strength often overlooked due to the beast which rides, or rather charges by his side, Texcoco. He who is favoured by oldone uncountable, sent out on this holy mission to enact both their word and will but also that of Izqux’s. Wielding both spear and ancient soul he was deemed worthy of this charge.

Forced to his feat Quas can smell the tension in the air… or was that just the humidity of night? Regardless this was the first time of true travel for many, some of which rarely left the camp to enter these jungles… Hopefully there would be nothing to fear, not if those Saurus had anything to say, or rather do about it. Luckily lustrian beasts new wiser than to attack a lizardmen force, especially one armed with beasts of their own, those being both kroxigor and ahuatli. The only time when they would perhaps strike is at those alone and separated, carrying them away into tree’s unnoticed… Such was the risk of being a scout, Especially one that was barely catching up with the rest of their group.

Still groggy those passing minutes came quicker than expected, with a grunt the Ahuatli was moving, and all those behind it bar both him and the saurus were too. Perhaps he should start moving aswell, afterall Quas was assigned with a duty to protect those artefacts which the Ahuatli hauled.

 

As Xolek reaches out he is dazed to see Xiuhcoatl lean into it, his hand perfectly aligning with the now faint mark upon her head, a mark that had almost integrated into her body as if it were there from birth.

Taken back the oracle can feel the salamander’s racing pulse through its blistered, slimy orange skin. It was clear that both the beasts instinct and mind were working tirelessly. even visible to the point where it could be seen in Xiuhcoatl’s heavy breaths and tense muscles.

With Xolek having stood motionless, uneasy to make a move the salamanders tail and tongue flick with a hiss. It would be better to make use of this beast for whatever is needed lest this fickle bond break leaving the salamander’s ferocity free to take control.

 

Stern eyes peer into the the Salamanders own searing eyes, the hiss did not go over well with Xolek. Dominance would need to be maintained, clearly.

A sudden slap to Xiuhcoatl face could be heard across the pen, his hand hitting her like a comets cold hits a volcanic eruption, steam billowing outward. Hissing his own ferocious hiss Xoleks eyes blaze white, "You will heed my command, I am the Alpha, you are the juvenile. We have work to do, I will suffer no disobedience, especially in the dangers that the jungle may present". His mind tethered to hers he could feel the anger swelling inside the beast, again, another cold comet slap to a volcanic rage, "You will bear my dominance as I bear the will of a Serpentine God"

Feeling no fear he stands infront of Xiuhcoatl, awaiting her action to decide his next action: To fully show his dominance more or to take them both, willingly, into the jungle.

 

The hulking Kroxigor figure of Quas grunted and forced himself forward to pack all the left-overs and tools used to prepare the meals that were awaiting him in disarray. With his movements painfully slow and his senses slightly disoriented he attached them safely to improvised straps that ran along the left shoulder. Those were ending with some sort of a leather container into which most of the bulk was held. A moment after, he looked around in search for the infamous cleaver. Most likely displaced by the busy inhabitants of the camp, it was found laying on the ground behind the stones, which were used to distribute and prepare the meals. Shortly after it was attached on the back of the Kroxigor cook.

Ahuatli, the mighty dinosaur of transportation, was almost disappearing between the trees when Quas raised his large, crocodile-like head. Bolstered by his iron will, the lazy muscles were forced to run. Running on all four limbs, the hulking Kroxigor made short work of the distance and was now marching alongside other comrades in embarrassing silence.

 

Days passed.

Some days were long, tiresome and silent - The kroxigors and saurians out in front, Tezka and Quas among them, their muscles steaming in the hazy air as they carved and hacked, raking out a path forward. A near daily toil necessary to progress the ahuatli forward through the thicker, deeper paths made thin from centuries of neglect, the jungle reclaiming them once more.

Other days were short, gliding past as a steady pace of progress was made - Especially through those more open regions where the tree’s became sparse, opening out into scattered plains. A undoubtedly welcome relief from the thick jungle, for here one could feel the cool, soft breeze brush past and on those cloudless nights look up to witness the stars - magnificent in design and ever bright, The will of the ancient ones made manifest.

As hours shifted not only into days, but into what felt like weeks, each individual dance of the sun and moon melting away a great sense of anticipation hung thick in the air. This was not a feeling that could be described in mere words - it was simply felt. Skink priests, Kuoteq’ecko and Tiqxoltiq alike were the first to speak out having sensed the jungle at edge. A storm was brewing. A strong one.

It would have been foolhardy to have continued pushing forward, in both poor visibility and torrential rain - So they simply didn’t. Shelter was made and a more permanent position taken up. The journey was put on halt for a number of days.



----

Just as the storm came, it passed. The sky cleared, and the ahuatli was saddled once again. This time however, another presence had come to join the journey band. Illuminated by the flashes and heralded by the crackle of lightning, a figure strode forward from the night rains - Xolek-zi. A skink Oracle, and his familiar beast, Xiuhcoatl. A face and fangs that were much needed in those first trying days of trying to gain acceleration and keep the journey moving forward after the interruption.

Towards the emerald pools the band marched, then there at the ¾’s destination they could not only make use its healing water’s to reinvigorate the troupe and make way for the last stretches toward the gates of Tlaxtlan, but could also harness its curative and remedial magic’s to heal the wary, and cure both malady of mind and physical body - a need that had become dire for few, among them the skink beasthandler Xahanol. No priests' magic nor ritual could heal those deep burns which scarred across charred scales, only the sacred waters of the emerald pools could quell such pain.

Spoiler: Emerald pools

---


Morning. The sun rose, its rays filtering through the thin canopy serving to illuminate the silent, still figure of a chameleon skink high above in the branches. The scouts were always the first to wake, setting out before the others to get a feel for the area, and provide information to best direct the party onwards.

This morning however the groups normally silent dynamic was broken. Xlauax was among them as the first shrills warning calls were sounded from above. - One may have expected to hear shouts, but over many years chameleon skinks had learned to replicate the sounds of certain bird species and creatures, able to communicate simple messages through these calls rather than shouting in distinctive speech which would have been a clean giveaway to such otherwise silent invisible stalkers.

Despite the closeness of the emerald pools, smoke had been spotted by the scouts. This was no singular campfire another possible travelling mission or a small group of resting skink hunters - This was a great blaze. A huge rotating column of smoke that stained the sky, making the air taste ashen and thick. The forest ahead, It was being burned.

Spoiler: Summary

TL;DR (Summary): The travelling band lead by Uykar and ordered by Izqux (The skink seer, head of camp) has progressed steadily towards Tlaxtlan despite being interrupted by a storm, which provided Xolek-zi with the time necessary to catch up and link up with the main group. However, as they approach a destination on the path - The emerald pools - smoke has been spotted by the scouting group.

 

Xahanol was pushing through, despite the pain of their scars. They saw it as a test of sorts, or a punishment for rash action rather than methodical planning, and as such continued to work as much as the healers would allow them, or their own body would to assist the group in their travel. They stayed mostly to themselves though, the wheezing breaths they took most of the noise they made for most days, a somewhat time of mourning still coming and going for the loss of their companions, both animal and of their band. They were having one of their relatively better days today, with the storm having helped soothe the pain of their scars to a degree, and as such they were in a bit of a more positive mood.

They were working on the stretches' the healers had taught them, working to keep the damaged muscles and joints as limber as they would allow until they reached the pools. They were serene for a few moments even...until the cry went out. It was one that echoed commonly in nightmares, one that had been heard on the fringe of consciousness when they were knocked out by the flames they had caused. Now flames would be here again, was Chotec here to finish what had begun? Were the flames to consume them all again? Xahanol gave a raspy laugh, eyes wide in fear as they turned towards the sound, too shaken up to move for the moment, just a near manic laughter spilling from their wheezing, raspy voice.

 

Keeping closer to the party, Tiq'xoltiq had spent their journey keeping his eyes open for any useful herbs or plants they might need. Knowing that they were approaching the Emerald Pools made him pleased, but wary. For some reason, a part of him expected them to run into something bad. When they spied the column of smoke rising into the air, his fears were confirmed. "Scouts," he muttered in a worried tone. "We must send out the chameleon-skinks to find out what is happening. We do not want to rush blindly into whatever is happening out there, especially given the last firestorm we ran into..."

 

Xlauax readied himself, drawing his Pain into his hand he stalked through the brush to investigate the inferno ahead. He muttered to himself as he questioned whether he should have agreed to pledge allegiance to his former kin. Nonetheless a part of him had come back to life, a flicker of his past life as Scoutmaster. But that was in the past, clutched away from him by Commander Viceran of the Druchii forces who kept him captive for all those years. Who wrenched away his being and forced him to live his life as an Avatar of Vengeance.

Xlauax's mind was conflicted, torn into three parts, one being his former life as a Scoutmaster, the glorious days of trekking through the brush of Lustria, making way for his brethren to come. The second being his Pain, the Huine Feredir as the Druchii called him or the Night Hunter in his own tongue. And the third being recently given him by Qul'Toq's amulet. When the ritual happened in the chamber of the Great Serpent, something had happened that fused Qul'Toq's mind with his. He found himself reaching for a staff, or recalling events from a life that was not his. Yet somehow all these conflicting personalities did not drive him insane not even confuse him. Perhaps because he had fallen to insanity long ago, but only time would tell.

 

Days before, Xolek-Zi had finally convinced Xiuhcoatl to follow him, bitterly it seemed, but their bond had grown significantly since they had first met in the swamp what seemed like a month or more ago. Their journey had taken them deep into the jungle, there he found very faint tracks of his misadventures with the Hyenadons, and how he had lost his sacrificial dagger of Sotek. For a minimum of 2 days he searched only to come up short, as if the magicL properties of the dagger, of Sotek, did not speak to him. Why would Sotek now speak to him? His alliance to the Serpent God, this Serpent God, was in question... even as his calling and spawning seemed to be of and for Sotek. However, it seemed as though the Old Ones had different plans for Xolek-Zi for as sure as the Sun rises, a long forgotten Goddess had found her Prophet and her mark placed upon him, even if he himself did not fully understand yet.

After no luck in finding the dagger Xolek and Xiuhcoatl set out to regroup with the caravan, though making his way to them proved difficult, even for the Oracle who knew and travelled these lands often. He had come across Skaven on his way, quickly dispatched but their presence did not sit well with him. No clues were found as to why they were there, but their ongoing presence needed to he addressed, Xolek tucked the location into the back of his mind, he would come back later if the Old Ones permitted it, for all was apart of their Great Plan. On his way Xolek made sure to searxh for herbs, like he had told the Star Priest he would, but also to restock his own herbal pouch, he found much but not as much as he would have hoped, especially for the Priest.

Having finally waded through rivers and thick jungle, Xolek and his Salamander found two saurus guarding a small opening in the jungle, lighting his pipe he gave a signal of respect and walked into the camp; the smoke to anyone around him knew who it belonged to. The smell of his pipe wafting through the air began to hang in the air, the whole camp was soon consumed by the euphoric smoke... which then slowly began to mix with wildfire smoke...

"Again?" The Oracle mutters to himself, he looks around and immediately seeks out the Star Priest to see where he is needed ajd to give him the herbs he found. Xiuhcoatl followed, though the eyes on her began to give her an uneasy feeling, she could smell their fear of her, though admiration was also in the air. She simply flicked her tongue, small globs of liquid fire dropping out, and went on her way.

 

Surprised by not only Xiuhcoatl’s willingness to follow, but also forced to contemplate his bond with Sotek, which weighed heavy on his mind throughout the journey Xolek-zi could sense the unease in the air as he walked forward to rejoin with the others. His luck for herbs had been short, a slight sense of frustration tingling at the back of his mind. Was he not among Soteks chosen? If so, then why did his bond with the Serpent God wax and wane as if it were the moon? Then why did he feel his faith, his.. Warmth drift away each night as sure as the tide - The feeling however was not merely snatched away, but instead replaced with a sensation of both peace and invigoration come nightfall allowing him to truly realise that the jungle was at its most lively in the dark, when the moon shone sure.

Looking down at a small, slightly pitiful handful of various flowering plants, raw vine’s and chunks of chewing bark and roots, Xolek-zi kept Xiuhcoatl close as he searched. It didn’t however take long to get council with the number of priests who had been assigned the orders of leading the journey, Kuoteq, Tluqui and Tikxoltiq standing somewhat before him.

However, if it was Izqux he wished to commune with, he could do little more than wonder. Perhaps as a result of the air being still alive and ionised from the storm, the camp’s communication with Izqux, Hand of Yuxa and starseer of Kara was undoubtedly severed. The crystal balls which had been passed to each Tikxoltiq, Kuoteq'eko and Tluqui individually, in order to keep open a channel of communication open had been able to achieve little more than a fizzling light - They had not heard back from Izqux for four days now, and the now more than ever the need was pressing.

-

Xahanol remained burnt, but still endured. The long days, despite their seemingly endless toils and work of both himself and those below had slightly eased his worries and regrets, his scar’s receding deeper into his blackened skin, healing, ever so slightly, ever so slowly. He could however feel a slightly maniacal fear welling within upon first the mention, then the sight of flame, of smoke. The reflection flickering in tortured eyes Xahanol remained stationary, paralyzed as he wheezed and coughed, watching from atop of the ahutali’s back. He needed the emerald pools more than anyone.

A silence fell upon the travelling band as the first calls were sounded, and message was brought. Taking control of the situation Tik’xoltiq gave word to the group, ordering both them and the scouts ahead.

First to respond were the saurian warriors which normally flanked along the ahuatli’s side or clearing a path out in front. Some hunched their broad forms, lifting up a thick, serpentine neck to smell the air before gripping tight both blunt weapons and spears. In under a minute what looked to be slightly less than a dozen or so warriors came to one another, aligning as one, although small, mighty regiment - One more than ready to take on any minor threat that dared impose upon the journeys progress, such was their duty.

Spoiler: Ahuatli

The Ahualti is a smaller, more energetic and in some cases more territorial and aggressive relative of the well known bastiladon, its carapace opting for offense rather than defense, able to present a threatening display of jaggered spines and a sharp clubbed tail, promising to painfully impale any carnivores that dared try their luck.

In a similar fashion, Uykar, head chief, beast handler and task master of the mission violently swings out his hand, holding it up before uttering a command. In reflection to the order, the ahutali suddenly halted to a lurching stop - the great beast kicking up mud and dust as it did so with an effortus grunt.

The few forces surrounding the mission were in order, and each individual made aware of what lay ahead. It was only now however, one would look down and realise that this force was not built for a fight - Sure, it contained saurians, but it's bulk was of skinks, many of which hadn’t been forced to suffer, or in some cases earn the old’s honor through fighting. Likewise, despite the great beasts of burden’s strength, they were not trained nor suited to fight - Used to exerting their will through lifting and sifting through mounds of rubble, not shattering bone and enduring the ear rending screams of death.

One however needed not worry for much longer, The chameleons had been sent forth, and their task was clear - Investigate and bring back word of what lay ahead.

-

The conflict raging in his mind reflecting the flickering image of fire ahead Xlauax could feel not only the memories and responsibilities of being a scoutmaster tugging at him but also the pain of having it all ripped away as he neared the flame’s source. Tiq’xoltiq had spoken, and word given. If anyone was suited for this job, it would be the silent form of a chameleon skink, able to leap from branch and tree untouched in an invisible dance.

At first, the thought of the fire being caused as a result of some stray bolt of lightning from the storm cropped up. It was only when the chameleon skinks reached the jungle’s edge could the begin to gage what was at hand. Slightly east of the fire’s, the skinks looked to see a vast swathe of land bathed in ash, the jungle’s grip being burned away. Yet, no flame continued to rage, its destruction having been cut short in this direction, and instead being focused on other area’s in order to make a more geometrically shaped clearing.

This was not the work of Chotec.

The flames, they were being used, guided like an untiring, unstopping beast of burden. Xlauax could feel his veins pulse, feeling the blood rushing around his limbs as the other chameleons turned to look at one another. A smell. A forgotten, foreign smell lied low on the ashen breeze. The scent of warmbloods, the sickly sweat smell of their sweat and grimy, unscaled skin and boiling blood.

Feeling his heart begin to race and limbs shiver, Xlauaux could feel his body being urged to run out into the clearing. The shadows closed in, the distant sound of flickering flames speaking of suspicion, what voices did it hide.

 

Cautiously examining the underbrush, the priest did his own version of scouting, looking for any sign of intruders or something that could have caused the pillars of smoke in the distance. He also kept an eye out for any smoldering embers in the underbrush that might cause the fires to spread to their area. While it was possible the smoke was born of natural causes, the likelihood of that occurring in this area was very small. Therefore, such flames were likely to be caused by some invaders. At least, he hoped it was invaders. The thought that fellow followers of the Old Ones had caused this - possibly as part of the Great Plan was a horrifying concept.

 

"Thats a big cookin'." announced the hulking Kroxigor with a deep and growling voice. As if instinctively the large crocodile paw massaged the belly, words of fire reminding the giant organism for the need of sustenance. The need that was severely neglected the past days. And indeed a one looking at the two legged crocodile beast would notice their form slimmed and fortified, thick armor of scales now was highlighting the muscles that showed from long lost cover of fat.

Quas scratched his leg scales. Mud and dust covered the mighty lizardman's plates, their former light-blue and orange glory was now almost hidden behind the thick layers of filth. It was days they had been swimming or bathing in any water tank. They hated long marches. In fact, their mind was constantly serving the temptation to setup somewhere, near a pond, cook animals or those pink small people... yet some sense of higher duty was making them to stay, as if part of their weak will bound to somebody else.

There was, however, a piece of mind no lizard or god could alter. Curiosity being their most honed sin, they simply walked towards the pillar of smoke...

 

Through driving rain or blistering heat, Tezka stayed at his place in the vanguard, diligently surveying the area, and monitoring the parties' progress. While completely uncaring for any physical discomforts on his own front, Tezka was keenly aware of the parties' condition, ensuring no lizardman fell behind. However just as, if not more, importantly was the condition of his beloved mount Texcoco. The oldblood took great measures to ensure the halth of his companion through the uncomfortable journey.

Pausing for a moment to look at the billowing smoke, the veteran Saurus allowed his company to catch up to him and the young carnosaur

 

Tik’s expressed caution was well warranted. From his scouting he could quickly see that the flame was not the threat, but rather, the threat would lie in those that had unleashed it upon these sacred jungle’s so willingly. Burning out swathes of land, turning those tree’s which had grew alongside these blessed pools for longer than any mortal could remember turned ahsen and laid waste to. The questions rose and faded, however one remained: How could this possibly be the work of fellow first?

It wasn’t. An answer Xlauax was among those first to realise.

Swift, agile legs carried the chameleon fast over fallen branches and over ashen trunks. The air became not only thicker with the scent of both smoke and warmbloods, but as he neared to the flame’s flickering brightness so too did the sound of voices. Sending shivers down his veins the chameleons froze, listening. The voices were rapid, disorganized and varying in both pitch and volume. Yet not so erratic to be of the vile ratment, or seemingly as cruel and ordered of those Xlauax had come to know so well - those of the Druchii.

Approaching closer other groups of two, three chameleons split off in their own unique directions under Omeotl’s orders, each group proceeding with more caution than before as the voices grew louder.

It was only now, peering through the clearing, his scarred skin melding with the tree’s and undergrowth Xlauax was able to see the small shapes of men dotting the horizon. A body to a voice, and the seeming source of the flames. From his vantage point there looked to be a group of ten… no, fifteen? Maybe more, there were several small groups working on individual tree’s. - An expedition of some sort.

Some carried tools of metal and iron, Violently hacking at those tallest and most ancient trees which had refused to bend to the fire’s will. Sacred trees of age’s past, their roots so deep as to tap into the life giving waters which flowed under the region, the same healing waters which gave birth to the so called emerald pools. - Perhaps a reason for their unlikely resilience against the blistering heat.



Others hauled and shattered chunks of wood from the same fallen tree’s, loading them onto what looked to be a series of wagons. A wagon for each tree, and each group of five-six men. Nearby some more voices shouted, directing the chameleons swiveling eyes toward a number of what Xlauax had come to know as ‘horses’ gathered in nearby makeshift pens. These horses however looked much better taken care of than those made use of by the dark elves who worked them to the point of exhaustion, until their skin peeled off and they could work no more. Such cruelty yet to be repaid.


-

Walking steadily forward Quas continued oblivious of the party behind him ceasing. As he plodded forward the air became not only thicker, but also hotter. The sticky scent of sweat, of warmblooded flesh serving to only stoke his idea of some great feast lying beyond in the clearing. Mouth dripping with saliva, which fell to the ground before sizzling Quas continued forward possessed by both curiosity and hunger - Until a small, gentle hand tugged at his own. A singular skink, face red with effort was barely able to break the kroxigors trance, speaking in a quick tongue pressuring him to return.

Upon glancing around, the skink breaking his large strides Quas could see as a small line of saurus warriors formed before the rest, Tezka at their head, his crest shining yellow against the backdrop of flame. Beside him Texcoco foamed at the mouth, having smelt the invaders long before the others.

In total there was about eight warriors each one however was a great warrior in their own right, silent in their visual and steady in pace, awaiting the word of either priest or old blood.

 

Xlauax froze at the sight of the Druchii as it triggered something deep inside him. He started twitching and muttering softly to himself "P-p-p-pain..... Ju-justice..... Vengeance.". Xlauax turned to Omeotl before saying "W-we can t-take them! I've done it before... Oh s-s-so many t-time-s. W-we can c-clear this area for our k-kin! They n-nees not w-worry about a threat.". Xlauax drew out his Vengeance before levelling it at some higher ranking Druchii officers, waiting for Omeotl's command.

 

Texcoco paused suddenly and inexplicably, his nostrils quivering. Moments later, the young carnosaur snarled. Tezka didnt need another que, a low growl caused the saurus to lock shieldsand present their arms in a defensive formation stronger than the frill of a stegadon. Surveying the warriors, Tezka gave the order to move, and the saurus obeyed, marching in perfect lock step towards their warmblood foe

 

Sticking to the edge of the clearing, Tik heard the scouts mention something about Druuchi, but what he was seeing didn't quite fit what he knew of the pointy-eared beings. A vague memory floated up from his mind about there being other kinds of pointy-eared beings, but to his chagrin Tiq'xoltiq honestly wouldn't be able to tell them apart on sight. Frowning, he hung back and watched as the saurus and kroxigor ranked up and prepared to fight.

 

The large Kroxigor finally stopped and sighed reluctantly, his belly accompanying with a low growl. They looked at the Skink some, as if not sure what to actually do, before their tiny yellow-orange eyes rested on a group of Saurus. The crocodile figure raised his massive scaly hand pointing to a rank of marching lizardmen and responded with a questioning look "Can... go with 'em?"

 

Xlauax Feels a cold hand grip his arm, Omeotl, who had perfectly blended in with the surroundings leans in, unstringing the large blowpipe from his back before whispering “P-patience.” With a satisfying swoosh, the chameleon drops a poison coated dart into the blowpipes tube using his tail, looking out into the filed before signalling for Xlauax and the others to follow. “Jungle breeze, falling leaves. W-we are unnoticed. Be slow. W-when we make a move, move at once. A serpent remains silent until it strikes. Provide an opening for the saurus if they give the order to attack. Else - remain silent, wait this out.”

Following his suit, the several other chameleons and handful of skink scouts load their various weapons - each an instrument of fearful precision ranging from bows, blowpipes and slings. And as light as a crawling insect amongst the undergrowth, the group begins to approach nearer.

 

Close enough to their quarry, Tezka halted the saurus. In a single low snarl he bellowed his orders "kill anything that moves" Recognizing the deep growl of their commander, the saurus stood at attention. Tezka then allowed his warriors to break rank, utilizing their instinctive savagery to his benefit. As the rank and file saurus cleared the trees, Tezka sped Texcoco onwards, the carnosaur bounding out of the trees. The warm bloods time was up.