From the Hidden City (Warhammer Lizardmen Temple-City Quest)

CuttleFish2.0 · May 18, 2020

Art attributed to Stoyan Stoyanov

Hidden deep within the sweltering jungle of what men will one day call the Southlands there is a city of ancient stone which has stood, in glory and ruin, since the days before the coming of Chaos. Surrounded by towering walls that have weathered war and time equally, gridded by wide avenues of sun-drenched stone, and dominated at all times by stepped-pyramids in whose shelter manifold minds peel back all the layers of the worlds' illusions. Zlatlan, the Hidden City. Last of the great Temple-Cities of the Lizardmen on the continent.

Once it was but a part of the empire which stretched across the globe, crafted by the Old Ones to reshape the world into a more fitting image. Now, from disaster and the creep of defeat at the claws, tentacles, and hands of endless hordes of daemons it is all that remains upon those shores. All others are ruin, their temple pyramids emptied of Slann and their avenues patrolled only by the abreast of garrisons.

Even Zlatlan is much reduced with entire halls standing empty and Skinks who should be at work crafting the wonders of the world forces to attend the walls and patrol beyond their safety. The few Saurus who remain parceled out in dribs and drabs to shore up detachments.

And yet, you will not shirk from your appointed duty to see the world brought back into alignments with the Great Plan of the Old Ones. Whatever that might be… for neither they nor the members of the First spawning yet live to guide you in your mission. In fact, none even of the Second Spawning yet live upon the continent. You alone, a Slann of the Third, are the eldest of those that still live in this corner of the world.

Were that not enough there is yet still another matter...

[-] Disaster! Chupayotl sinks and you are cut off from the greater part of the remaining Slann. It could not come at a worst time; though the Elves have managed to siphon away the greater part of the power flowing out of the poles, the work must be buttressed. (Greatest chance to enact significant change on the world, but your periods of alertness will be frequently disrupted by the need to sleep for decades or even centuries. Starting date -3894).

[] Disaster. The world shakes, rocked by greater tremors that shift entire mountain ranges. After consulting the sacred plaques you have determined that almost irreparable damage has been done to the progress of the Great Plan. Worse, you suspect it was done by those of your number across the ocean. (Much of the world's history has passed you by, there's not much you can change at this point, but over the last two millennia you have managed to shake off the worst of your lethargy. Starting date -1500).

[] Disaster? Zlatlan no longer remains hidden from the rest of the world! Warmblood explorers, living humans from the north, have stumbled upon you. But they have as of yet displayed no hostility and even given a number of strange gifts to the Skinks you have sent to ascertain their purpose. Perhaps they could be of use? (Things are well settled, geopolitically speaking. But you find yourself active more often than not and you can feel there is still time before the world is utterly lost to the ends of the Old Ones. Starting date 1150).

Note: All dates are referenced from this timeline.

Welcome to From the Hidden City! A quest taking place in the Warhammer Fantasy Battles universe, run by me you friendly neighborhood cuttlefish. In it you will take control of the ruling Slann of Zlatlan at a turning point in its history and try to bend the world back onto something approaching the proper course. We'll get to who exactly you are in a bit.

First, this will be a fairly mechanics light quest, at least in some aspects - you won't have a lot of stats, or be managing income and treasury and all that (much). There'll be numbers when I feel it's appropriate and necessary but I'm mostly just not interested in keeping close track of a lot of fiddly bits. We'll talk more about turns when we get to them.

Now, you should be forewarned, all I know of the setting is from wiki-trawling and quests just like this, plus playing Total War: Warhammer 2. I will try and maintain the core fundamentals of most things (Dwarfs will have Grudges, Elves will be arrogant assholes, Orcs will like fighting, etc) but I'll also play fast and loose with some other things. What those things are… well, that's to be determined honestly.

Also, wait a moment for me to post a couple of other reserved posts, just for conveniences sake.

CuttleFish2.0 · May 19, 2020

Vote Closed! Calling it for the earliest start. Now, you guys create your Slann!

You rule in Zlatlan in the year 11106 since Itza's Founding, but who are you, Slann Mage-Lord of the Hidden City?

[] Name: Write-in.
[] Titles: Optional, write-in.
[LOCKED] Slann of the Third Spawning
[] Magical Focus: Write-in; one of the eight winds, high magic, geomancy, divination, or similar.

Traits (choose 3):

[] Duellist: You are a rarity amongst the Slann; for you have deigned to physically lift a weapon and strike a foe. Fighting from palanquin-top is a bit cumbersome.

[] Artillerist: During the Great Catastrophe, in defense of Zlatlan, you took personal charge of a Solar Engine or Engine or the Gods. Entire legions of daemons disappeared under your withering fire.

[] Tinkerer: Even at rest your mind is constantly pondering mechanisms and designs for devices of both a mundane and magical nature. Such projects will be easier for you.

[] Apiarist: Long ago, before the coming of the eternal enemy, you became fascinated by the humble bee. At least one hive is your constant companion, even in battle, reminding you of the use of other creatures and the designs of the Old Ones even in small things.

[] Chorister: During the Great Catastrophe, across battle after battle and defence after defence, you directed your fellow Slann and the Skink Priests in matching the magical might of the daemon hordes.

[] Smith: You are fascinated by metals of all sorts and enjoy crafting arms and armor. During the Great Catastrophe many were the Saurus who carried your works into battle.

[] Mentor: To the Third Spawning was given the task of educating Dwarfs and Elves in Albion long in the wanings days of the ordering of the world.

[] Healer: In most cases any non-fatal injury is one which a Lizardman can shrug off, in time, no matter the caste. Other times the injury is so dire and the magic of a Revification Crystal either too imprecise or ineffective. In those cases you are called upon.

[] Maimed: Some time during the Great Catastrophe you were greatly injured, losing one of your arms. Your charges are at once shamed by this and love you all the more for it.

[] Architect: Before the Great Catastrophe you took particular joy in the construction of monuments, temples, and other such buildings needed by the various temple-cities. Your works blend functional utility, aesthetic appeal, and mystical impact in ways nearly unmatched.

[] Ambusher: Even before the fall of Chupayotl, the armies of Zlatlan had learned how to use the land against their enemies. In the open, battle against numberless hordes of daemons is untenable. Only through trickery, deception, and subterfuge can you hope to over come them. And you are very, Very good at that.

There are various potential synergies in the traits. For that reason, and to allow people to suggest other traits if they have any ideas (which I will consider), there will be a Moratorium of… 2 Hours on the vote.

Also the vote, when it opens, will be by plan.

[-] Plan Bob the Not Slann
- [-] Name: Bob
- [-] Titles: the Not Slann
- ~~[LOCKED] Slann of the Third Spawning~~
- [-] Magical Focus: Not Having Magic
- [-] Not Being a Slann
- [-] Being a Human
- [-] Not Having Magic, Like Seriously

CuttleFish2.0 · May 21, 2020

Wik'keer'mal felt the voices of the sublime communion an ocean away recede. Some of them permanently, as Chupayotl sank beneath the waves with frightening speed and unpredictability. Examinations as of half a century ago said it would not be in danger of collapse for at least a millenia and now it is gone and with it the connection to his brethren.

Now Zlatlan stood alone against half a world of difficulties.

The work to bolster the Great Warding was not yet complete and without the ability to communicate with the larger Temple-Cities across the ocean there could be no certainty of harmony between the two efforts. But which would be out of balance? His pitiful handful of Slann were as nothing in comparison to the greater portion found in Lustria, but then many of the sacred plaques left to them by the Old Ones had been despoiled there. Zlatlan's sequence remained all but pristine.

Worse still without the connection through Chupayotl he could already feel the Geomantic Web weakening precipitously and it had already been nearly impossible to properly observe the itza'xa'khanx and dro'ka'khanx. How was he to know the progress of his students? To see what heights they would reach and take joy in their accomplishments.

Now there were only his bees to comfort him, their flitting buzzing lives a pale comparison. Still Slann were not given to despair, Wik'keer'mal would have to trust that his students had learned their lessons well and would pass them on. Perhaps centuries on they would have the chance to once again converse. Though he feared it was not likely, since the fall of the Gates the world had become ever more perilous.

The current tranquility was but a slight respite, he was sure.

A bee buzzed near his nostril. Wik'keer'mal smiled, too right little one there is too much work to be done to lose time to lamentable contemplations, he thought. It flitted away.

Note: Limits. Actions (except for Learning) generally have Limits; this is a per turn limit of the dice which can be applied to a given problem, representing the need for specialized labor to focus on other tasks as well. They also sometimes represent the use of a limited resource. Thus limits can and will fluctuate between turns on some actions.

Turn 1
You have 33 Dice Available!

(30 + 29 + 6 = 65 / 2 = ~33)

Martial: Since the raising of the Great Warding by the itza'xa'khanx, few have been your enemies. Which is fortunate, as fewer yet still are your warriors. Occasional wandering tribes of the cho'mundi'khanx, the feeblest of your lost masters creations, scattered raids by weak bands of daemons, and infrequent brushes with the strange hybrid mutants which have sprung up since. Surely that will not last.

Synchronize Patrols: With the mixed population of eight Temple-Cities living in the gutted remains of Zlatlan, patrol schedules have become a hopeless mess. Your Scar-Veterans are diligent, but patrols sometimes go out at the same time from opposite ends of the city and travel routes which have them covering the same territory. Othertimes none will go out for months at a time in one direction.
DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3. Limit: 7. Reward: Information on the immediate terrain around you, better interception of raiding forces, knowledge of the state of your immediate outer defences.

Long-Range Patrols: If your patrols of the immediate area have been lacking, then farther ranging patrols have been utterly absent. Zlatlan is blind to anything more than a week's travel away.
DC: 70. Successes Needed: 5. Limit: 2. Reward: Gain a slow trickle of information on activity in your general vicinity, and knowledge of the state of more distant outer defences.

Expedition to [Write-in]: The other Temple-Cities stand all but empty, only garrisons even smaller than your own safeguarding them. But that does not mean they hold nothing of value nor that you should abandon them. Send an expedition to one of them and ascertain what state they are in, and perhaps retrieve valuable resources from them.
Choose from:

Nahuantl
Cuexotl
Golden Tower of the Gods
Tlaqua
Teotiqua
Temple-Avenue of Gold
Temple of Skulls

Note: Will lock in dice used for a variable amount of time depending on rolls and Temple-City chosen.
DC: ??? Successes Needed: ???. Limit: 2. Reward: Knowledge of other Temple-Cities, resources.

Great Reorganization: Cohorts from eight separate Temple-Cities now inhabit Zlatlan, each commanded by different Saurus and though none would ever gainsay an order or descend into any sort of actual infighting, they rarely communicate. Investigate the exact ages, experience and ranks of the small number of Scar-Veterans and Oldbloods in order to establish the correct hierarchy.
DC: 40/80 Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 4. Reward: DC reduction for all Martial actions, chance to gain a Saurus character.

Stewardship: Zlatlan is near half a ruin. Much work remains to be done in order to restore it even to the glory of its founding, nevermind the heights it reached before the Great Catastrophe.

Gate Repairs: All of your Main Gates were damaged in the fighting and without need of large troop movements they have remained so. Begin unsealing and/or repairing them. Specify a Gate. Can be taken multiple times.

Southern Gate - DC: 40. Successes Needed: 8
Eastern Gate - Successes Needed: 6
Northern Gate - Successes Needed: 8
Western Gate - Successes Needed: 3

DC: 0/40. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 14. Reward: Repaired Main Gates.

Wall Repairs: Though you have sealed any major gaps in the walls, entire sections still show damage. Stains of unreal pus and blood that do not fade must be cleansed away, cracks sealed, battlements restored from where winged daemons crashed into the walls. All and more must be set to right.
DC: 20. Successes Needed: 16. Limit: 5. Reward: Walls Restore, better defenses in case of concerted attack.

Defensive Aims: Mounted blow pipes, warded cauldrons full of liquid fire, spouts means to shower attacks in sprays of caustic venom, and more. Though you cannot necessarily provide the ammunition for many of them you can at least restore their physical operation.
DC: 40. Successes Needed: 8. Limit: 4. Reward: 'Mundane' wall defenses restored to functionality.

Unsealing Minor Entrances: For a time during the Great Catastrophe your forces still passed beyond the walls of Zlatlan to meet armies of daemons head on, eventually that proved too dangerous and the Main Gates were sealed. But still your forces sometimes needed to leave, only in small groups, armed in your best arms and armor, until eventually that too was too great a threat. Then even those entrances were sealed. Only a handful have been unsealed since.
DC: 0. Successes Needed: 6. Limit: 6. Reward: Slight decrease in difficulty of Stewardship actions.

Barrio Refurbishment: The various barrios inhabited by your Skinks and Kroxigors are where the vast majority of your light industry takes place; where artisan-priests craft bolts, darts, charms, talismans, and many more of the simple items of everyday use for your forces. And where reeds are processed to make ledgers and scrolls as well as baskets. Crops and harvested meat brought to them to be made into rations. Many have fallen into disrepair, stores of grain and cured meats spoiling. Makeshift structures collapsing. Garden plots allowed to grow wild and untended. Redress these issues.
DC: 30. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 4. Reward: Armory begins to replenish. Slowly.

Clearing Rubble: Most of Zlatlan is clear of rubble. But some locations have not even seen that much attention. Address this. Specific location.

Forge Districts - Successes Needed: 8
Assembly Yards - Successes Needed: 6
Temple of Chotec - Successes Needed: 4
Temple of Huanchi - Successes Needed: 6
Temple of Tepok - Successes Needed: 4
Temple of Xokha - Successes Needed: 5
Temple of Tlanxla - Successes Needed: 5
Minor Shrines - Successes Needed: 4
Mortuary Shrines - Successes Needed: 2

DC: 0. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 10. Reward: Gain access to currently blocked off buildings and locations.

Beast Pen Repairs: Before the coming of the enemy in force you kept your beasts of burden and war in specially kept enclosures which facilitate their comfort and armament. But in order to save even the slimmest of their numbers it was necessary to bring them inside the walls and keep them in much barer conditions. Even those have been damaged and now they must be repaired.
DC: 20. Successes Needed: 4. Limit: 8. Reward: Beasts better kept until you can rebuild better accommodations.

Reseeding the Pastures: Some of your beasts require actual grazing lands. For the last few centuries you have managed off of the growth of gardens and occasionally foraging once the Great Catastrophe was over. But the ancient fields that they once grazed could be restored, it only requires cleansing and reseeding the lands.
DC: 30. Successes Needed: 6. Limit: 12. Reward: Stegadon and Bastiladon conditions stabilize and will slowly begin improving.

Pool Work: Many spawning pools were damaged in the Great Catastrophe, slowing the recovery of your population to a trickle. Little of the damage is serious any longer, major rents were sealed long ago, but subtler damage must still be fixed in order to put them in good order.
DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3 per destroyed spawning pool. Limit: 9. Reward: Repaired spawning pools. Increased population growth.

Resetting Traps: Whenever the walls were breached, as they were more than once, the daemons did not find a vulnerable interior which they could despoil to their heart's content. Instead they ran headlong into walls of fire and lightening, pits lined with obsinite spikes, avenues buttressed by walls that shot barbed darts. Every step they took extracted a bloody price. But eventually the pits filled, the ammunition ran dry, and the fire and lightening failed to come. Restore those defenses.
DC: 20. Successes Needed: 10. Limit: 6. Reward: Increased defense if your walls are breached again.

Aquaculture Expansion: Zlatlan sits near the coast, but not on it, and the Red River runs nearby. Hunting and your own agricultural efforts have thus far been sufficient to feed your population and that of your warbeasts, though they have suffered from bouts of starvation in the time since the Great Catastrophe. A coastal… settlement could go some ways to helping such issues as well as helping with future projects.
DC: 0/40 . Successes Needed: 2/5. Limit: 2/8. Reward: Find locations for a coastal fort/bunker/town and/or build it.

Diplomacy: You know of no one else in these lands who would not either obey you without question or flee from you in terror. And you have no way of speaking to anyone beyond its shores.

Getting to Know your Attendants: Though they have been constant presences in your life for centuries in truth you know little of your attendants, that ignorance can be excused given the circumstance of the Great Catastrophe. Before then you never had an attendant for more than a decade at a time, the empire of the Lizardmen was vast and always in need of resources elsewhere. Now though, you will likely be spending millenia with the same attendants. Learn who they are.
Note: Requires Personal Dice.
DC: 0/60. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 6. Reward: Become familiar with two of your attendants. Gives small permanent boost to dice pool, chance of Skink character.

Intrigue: You know of no one else in these lands you might need to spy on. And even if you did you have pitifully few Chameleon Skinks with which to do it. Though those you do have are veterans of an extremely long running guerrilla war against the daemons during the Great Catastrophe.

A Quieter Search: Chameleon Skinks by nature do not tend to settle in Temple-Cities. Send them out to do what your Saurus cannot, range far and see the state of the world beyond here.
Note: Must specify a general direction or destination. Locks in die and takes variable time to complete.
DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Information on distant places. Small chance of loot. Warnings of particular long-term threats in a given direction.

Seeking Salamanders: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck as some of those that you lost are notoriously dangerous to keep confined. Salamanders can be remarkably jumpy creatures, and their first reaction is to set things alight. Still, it might be time to locate some.
DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Salamanders.

Razordon Recon: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck in its own way, that many fewer mouths to feed. Razordons for all their relatively small size compared to many of your other beasts have voracious appetites, it takes quite a bit of energy to produce the sheer volume of spines they do. They are useful though.
DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Razordons.

Learning: Your mind is sluggish and your body lethargic. Frequently you fall into periods of stupor and rest from which you awake not energize but surrounded by a fog through which you must fight to come into full alertness. This is not how you were meant to be. You know much still and yet other knowledge alludes you, like a vine just out of reach. The other Slann of Zlatlan are similarly afflicted.

Each turn, for every increment of ten years some slann will be awake and some asleep. Like actions in other categories those in Learning must be completed by spending dice, but only Slann can contribute.

You have
5 Slann of the Third Spawning Dice (Floor at 30)
11 Slann of the Fourth Spawning Dice (Floor at 20)
35 Slann of the Fifth Spawning Dice (Floor at 10)

Error Checking: Before Chupayotl, and through it your connection to the other Temple-Cities, fell there were already efforts to bolster the Great Warding enacted by the Elves. Unfortunately you no longer have access to the calculations of the greater communion of Slann and must rely on what work was done before communications were rendered impossible. Perhaps you should check for errors?
DC: 40. Successes Needed: 5. Reward: Ensure your portion of the Web will fully support the Great Warding.

Catastrophe in Review: When legions of Saurus warriors could stretch over the horizon and the great temple-cities of your people were mighty bulwarks towering over the jungle canopy there was nothing which could withstand the armies of the Lizardmen. Nothing except an endless unceasing tide of daemons. And now what armies you can field are nothing more than the shattered remnants of what once was, many of your greatest weapons destroyed or lost. Zlatlan stands alone. If it is to continue standing you will need new weapons and new tactics.
DC: 30. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Figure out what your forces lack, and figure how you might go about shoring up those weaknesses.

Testing the Waters: Of late some of your patrols near the coast have reported seeing shapes moving across the ocean, only a handful over the last two centuries and those at great distance. From their description they remind you of some of the watercraft you saw them fumbling about with so long ago. Such devices might prove useful with the Geomantic Web so reduced.
DC: 40. Successes Needed: 2. Reward: Designs for ocean going vessels.

A Disciplined Mind: Though you are young by the reckoning of the slann, you yet still remember the world before the Great Catastrophe and the vigor with which you trod it. Now that vitality is yours only fleetingly and always followed by long stretches of extended lethargy. Turn your prodigious insight on the problem, perhaps there might be some manner of loosening the grip of whatever spiritual malady or malignant thought pattern has affected your kind.
DC: 80. Successes Needed: 10. Reward: Gain greater chance to remain Alert for longer.

Tracing the Web: Once the Geomantic Web stretched across the continent and over the ocean, now that connection is cut and though the energies still flow they are only tiny rivulets where once they were floods. Follow those ancient flows, spiritually, to gain insights and knowledge of distant places.
DC: 20/40/60/80. Successes Needed: 2 per tier. Reward: Knowledge and ???

Examining the Wards: Mystical wards line every spare block of stone in your walls, feeding into greater wardings that encompass the entire Temple-City. Currently they are not performing to specifications, though so far no flaws have been divined by your skink priests. Examine their structure and ascertain the origin of this weakness.
DC: 60. Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Wards repaired.

Contemplate the Stars: The movements of the heavens have always held sway over the fortunes of events on the ground; whether by influencing the flow of the Winds of Magic, through fortuitous alignments for the designs of the enemy, or simply as heralds for cosmological events. Reading them may provide you with some insight in events soon to come to pass.
DC: 60. Successed Needed: 6. Reward: Minor Prophecy or Warning.

Review the Sequence: Zlatlan was never as heavily targeted by the forces of chaos, as such your Sequence of Sacred Plaques is largely intact. The first step in deciphering the Plan of the Old Ones is to know it's broad shape, undertake a review and see what can be gleaned.
DC: 20. Successes Needed: ??? Reward: Greater understanding of the Plan.

Personal
You have two (2) Personal Dice

Meditate: Contemplate the Sun. Turn your mind east. Consider the endless horizon stretching on and on into eternity. Place yourself then at the zenith and draw all the world inward.
DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Slight increase to Alertness for next turn.

Lend your Insight: Spend some time considering a matter.
DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Add 1 dice to any action.

Teachers Learn Too: You remember fondly your students amongst the itza'xa'khanx and dro'ka'khanx, how they took your lessons and slowly pierced back the veil of the world to glimpse in their own ways the power at their fingertips. Overcoming limitations you first thought insurmountable in the case of the delvers.
DC: 50/70. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Opens further research options.

Personal Project: Write-in some sort of magical ritual, or project you wish to undertake in your free time. Subject to QM approval.
DC: Variable. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: Variable. Reward: My interpretation of your write-in.

Note: Here's the first turn! Please, if you spot any mistakes or have any questions don't be afraid to ask them and I'll try and get to them as quick as I can. Also, some of the other proposed Slann may show up as characters eventually (modified depending on their proposed traits, etc) and you are of course free to propose other Skink, Kroxigor, or Saurus characters.

~~Manual Moratorium~~
~~Probably about 3-4 hours. Depending on the pace of Discussion. And if I get distracted.~~
Edit: also, vote by Plan.

CuttleFish2.0 · May 25, 2020

[X] Plan Mow The Lawn
- [X] Martial: Synchronize Patrols, 7 dice
- [X] Martial: Great Reorganization, 4 dice
- [X] Martial: Expedition to Nahuantl, 2 dice
- [X] Stewardship: Barrio Refurbishment, 4 dice
- [X] Stewardship: Pool Work, 9 dice
- [X] Diplomacy: Getting To Know Your Attendants, 6 dice
- [X] Intrigue: A Quieter Search (Target: last known Warmblood settlement, see if they're still alive and uncorrupted), 1 die
- [X] Learning: A Disciplined Mind, 11 Fourth Spawning + 29 Fifth Spawning dice
- [X] Learning: Catastrophe in Review, 3 Third Spawning dice
- [X] Learning: Testing the Waters, 3 Fifth Spawning dice
- [X] Learning: Review the Sequence, 2 Third Spawning + 3 Fifth Spawning dice
- [X] Personal: Personal Project: Perform a ritual to make Zlatlan, or if it were safer the jungles around Zlatlan, a locus of the Green Wind, naturally attracting Ghyran, a conduit of energy with which you will undertake future projects. (Personal-scale), 1 die
- [X] Personal: Personal Project: Create a great magical garden, more a forest really, within which you might grow flora and agriculture with which to do any number of things, from supercharging the Lizardmen, magical focuses and ingredients, or simply have something to tend to so as to focus your mind., 1 die

Turn 1 Results

Synchronize Patrols, 7 dice

65, 83, 47, 60, 56, 54, 44

7 Successes!

Total: 7 Successes

Zlatlan must be secured, and its forces must be brought back into sensible efficiency, Wik'keer'mal is insistent on that fact. And so Near the start of the century his chittering, anxious attendants fan out across the temple-city, their own attendants trailing after them clutching stacks of scrolls under each arm, and set about commanding the various Saurus in proper patrol schedules and routes. They of course listen intently, agree, and return to their duties.

A week later, the patrols are still a mess.

The attendants went out again, furious that their clear instructions were not followed. And to their utter astonishment find themselves speaking to entirely unfamiliar Saurus. Fully half of every Saurus in a position of command, half a hundred of them, has apparently disappeared and been replaced in the span of a week. Priests are called in.

But no trace of taint is found, and the Saurus insists they have been properly assigned their commands. So in frustration Wik'keer'mal's attendants reissue their previous orders. And overnight the matter is resolved.

For a matter of months. Then the problem repeats itself and an entirely new batch of Saurus appears. More priests and more fruitless questioning, then again the orders are repeated and the entire issue disappears overnight.

When it happens again the frustration and inspections are almost perfunctory. Some of the attendants make vague noises about bringing the issue to Lord Wik'keer'mal's attention, once he wakes again but their voices are quickly drowned out by the others. It is not yet serious enough. The matter is well in hand. Surely it must settle into normalcy soon.

It does not. Four more times this cycle repeats and the senior most attendant is on the verge of attempting to rouse the Slann themself when somehow, miraculously, after nearly a year and half of the problem the first group of Saurus return. Or at least enough of them that the problem resolves itself without any of the attendants needing to see to the matter. And yet there is still no explanation, and so the attendants do go out again. Fewer in number.

And then return to their master's temple chamber in an agitated storm of chittering and hooting to immediately set about rousing their Lord.

Action Completed

Great Reorganization, 4 dice

98, 90, 22, 99

3 Successes! 1 Natural Critical! +1 Success

Total: 4 Successes

Lord Wik'keer'mall wakes, just over a decade into the century, to the panicked exclamations of his attendants. At first he believes the city itself under siege, but upon spying solid dependable Qu'Qu-Kor, his Revered Guardian, he reassesses. Were the situation so urgent the Saurus would already be directing the rest of his Temple Guard about their duties and yet Qu'Qu-Kor merely stands by looking down at his Skink attendants.

It must still be an urgent matter otherwise Qu'Qu-Kor would never have allowed them to disturb his slumber. But not a dire threat to Zlatlan itself.

He listens.

And then immediately commands to be taken out in the jungle surrounding the city so that he might resolve the situation himself. This of course sets off a flurry of activity as sufficient Temple Guard are roused from their various other duties to attend to the safety of Wik'keer'mal and the proper force is gathered up from the city's inhabitants to further ensure said safety. Eventually, two days later, Wik'keer'mal is lowered over the walls on his palanquin by a system of levers and pulleys.

Without the Eastern Gate properly repaired there is no appropriate egress which would see he and his palanquin through, save the Western Gate and that would require a detour of some two hours. The Slann will not hear of further delay. Finally the force set off, marching first across the open fields immediately surrounding Zlatlan and then into the jungle proper.

A spreading fan of Skink scouts blazes a trail ahead, while the core heads unerringly deeper into the jungle. The journey takes three more days to complete.

Finally, near midday on the fourth day out from Zlatlan, Wik'keer'mal crests a small hill at the edge of a clearing and sees, spreading out around the heavily damaged remains of one of Zlatlan's outlying bunkers a freshly encamped host of composed of Saurus and a scattering of Skinks and Kroxigors. A small pack of Horned Ones dozes contentedly in the sun.

He is received with all proper respect and honor and led through the camp, into the camp and taken through the winding maze of inner passages upward and upward until finally he and Qu'Qu-Kor come into the command chamber. There is only a single towering Saurus in the room, pouring over a series of maps laid out on the stone table before them.

As he entered the Saurus turned and growled out the proper greeting.

"Revered One, your servant awaits."

Wik'keer'mal took their measure. Three, perhaps three and a half, millenia old. Long raking scars from a dragon's claw sweep down their left side and a row of punctures from a dragon's teeth, likely the same one, decorate their chest. Near their right femur a spider web of cracks from a fimir's maul. Several small rents likely from the crude hatchets of the detestable Uax. And of course the twistingly cruel whirls where they were lacerated by at least one daemon's talons peeks over the back of their neck.

But what caught Wik'keer'mal's attention was the touch of sea-green that tinges their scales. The webbing that spread between each finger of the hand, and the slits just past the crest of their head where gills sat.

"Honored Servant," the Slann transmitted into their mind. "Blessed of Tzunki, the Old Ones smile upon your service, but it is time to return with us."

And so it was that the reorganization of Zlatlan's forces all but completed itself. Huatza-Botl, as the Oldblood was known, took up residence in an empty pavilion near the eastern wall and from there poured forth a much more orderly stream of orders. There were truly no other possible candidates for overall command of the city's forces.

Especially when the next most likely candidates were both Huatza-Botl's direct subordinates; Loqtli leading what remained of the force's cavalry elements and Khaxilitli serving the Oldbloods right-hand with the infantry, both were Scar-Veterans and both still at least a thousand years too early to be leading anything the size of what Zlatlan could call upon at need.

It irked Wik'keer'mal that such a boon of Saurus leadership had kept its distance for orders of a dead Slann none could even name, but alas such was the burden of relying upon the Saurus. Remarkably literal creatures they were, prone to obsession and hyper-focus upon what they considered 'crucial' matters.

Action Completed. Gained Saurus Oldblood, 2 Scar-Veterans, Temple Guard. Tiny Population of Horned Ones. State of Horned Ones and Cold Ones lowers to Declining. Very slight increase to Saurus Population.

Huatza-Botl
- Type: Oldblood
- Blessed of Tzunki

Qu'Qu-Kor
- Type: Temple Guard
- Blessed of Tepok

Khaxilitli
- Type: Scar-Veteran
- Blessed by Chotec

Loqtli
- Type: Scar Veteran
- Blessed of Itzl
- Horned-One Mount

Expedition to Nahuantl, 2 dice

16, 90

1 Success

Total: 1 Success

Roll for Status of Nahuantl
10 = ???

With proper patrols going in the immediate environs around the city and even some information on the more distant stretches of jungle thanks to Huatza-Botl's centuries of efforts there seemed no more fitting time to mount an expedition to the nearest temple-city. Nahuantl.

Located north of Zlatlan across the vast bay, the two temple-cities had long been close-knit partners, controlling access to the bay jointly; each of them together holding the reins of the Guardian Statues of Ancient Gods, those towering edifices of stone which had, since the continents were split, warded the leviathans of the primordial deeps from threatening the works of the Lizardmen.

The forces were drawn up, sixteen hundred Saurus with thrice that number in Skinks, a rough path charted on ancient maps showing the now surely ruined roads between the temple-cities and in the end Huatza-Botl took personal charge of the expedition.

And so on a bright morning one day well into the third decade of the century the force set out, marching in a steady into the jungle until the only evidence of its passage was the distant shifting of trees. In time even that was no longer visible to any within Zlatlan.

Action…

Barrio Refurbishment, 4 dice

55, 16, 67, 42
3 Successes!

Total: 3 Successes

Even as the expedition left, work continued to bring the city back into proper shape, particular attention was paid to the barrios in which the Skinks and Kroxigors of Zlatlan lived and worked. Many stood all but empty. In truth such was the leading cause of the issues, as without inhabitants there was no one to undertake needed maintenance.

Structures that had… stood was too generous a term, existed for centuries were finally torn down and their remains burnt. Granaries emptied of spoiled rations and carefully cleansed of taint, of the wholly mundane variety, and unkempt gardens carefully picked over for any salvageable cultivars and then utterly razed with the soil removed to be used in other plots or elsewhere.

The sight of the barrios was much changed, for one they now looked much emptier, and yet there was an air of energy suffusing them without the cluttered ruins of the past. Also the Skinks and Kroxigors stopped trying to repair things that none used.

Action Complete

Pool Work, 9 dice

67, 65, 78, 4, 59, 55, 61, 39, 81
7 Successes!

Total: 7 Successes

The century saw a tremendous effort put forward returning a number of the outer spawning pools to their former condition and rendering them operable once again. Virtually from the outset, even before Chupayotl sank, teams were already hard at work swimming through the warm waters and seeing to the many, many, many issues that had arisen both in the Great Catastrophe and since.

Much of the gross damage had been seen to and yet still there were cracks in the walls, eroded engravings, and much more. The less said of the floors of the pools the better. One or two had even seen the ground beneath them collapse and the only reason they had not drained in their entirety into the caverns below was because those spaces happened to be aquifers already full of water. Those jobs were left for later.

The work was not quite constant, sometimes a year or two would pass in which the teams necessary to undertake the repairs on the pools could not be spared from maintenance of other more immediately vital efforts, but it did not lag for long. Those first stages saw much of the work done by Kroxigors. Removing the debris that had piled up on the pool floors.

Priests inspected each stone and pebble, every fallen bit of dross and mislaid missile for potential taint and destroyed it whenever they found it. They found little. Eventually the suitable material was gathered, stone fallen into the pools from damage to other structures or to the pools themselves, and it was crushed into progressively finer grains until it was a powder. Then it was mixed with sanctified water drawn from the pools themselves until it formed a thick gritty mixture.

During this the spawning pool intended for repair was drained.

Skink crews took the cement and packed it into whatever cracks, pits, or divots they could find in the surface of the dry pools. This work was closely followed by priests and as the mixture began to dry they uttered hour long rituals at each site, drawing up the meagre power of the Geomantic Web and pouring it into the stone and cement. Slowly the stone flowed into each other, until it was once again a seamless whole, as if it had never been damaged at all.

Then. Once the entire pool was completely repaired in that manner, any missing sigils and engravings could be repaired in another ritual taking months more. A handful of Slann even lent their aid to the matter.

In this way, two of the pools were repaired and part of the work on another completed.

Action Incomplete - 2 Pools Restored. 5 more remain.

Getting To Know Your Attendants, 6 dice

54, 63

2 Successes!

Total Successes: 2

4 Skink Attendant Rolls
1-4 Scribe 5-7 Artisan-Priest 8-9 Chief 10 Priest
5, 9, 7, 1

Tehe'Tenq was but a scribe, the lowliest of any of Lord Wik'keer'mals attendants, only now closing in on his first century of life. It was an honor even to sit in the same room as the Slann, much less catch the distant whispers of his speech in sleep, or the echoes of his psychic instructions to his closer, more worthy, attendants. Much less to record those messages and then go out and deliver them unto the cohorts of other scribes waiting in chambers beyond who would copy them for distribution to the intended recipients.

He had not dared voice his own opinions whenever there was a point of contention, Tehe'Tenq did not think his familiarity with the Lord was great enough to allow for it, but he had seen the ways the others argued their interpretations of the High-Lords meanings. And he knew where he stood amongst the various parties. When the Lord said something was xla and nodded he did not mean it was law immutable but rather that it was a thesis supposed under a preponderance of evidence.

That had been the issue with the Wind Chimes of the Thirty-Third Star Ascendant Chamber of the Temple of Xholankha, the Lost, in the end. Some amongst Lord Wik'keer'mal's attendants had commanded that the chimes themselves could be placed only at the openings themselves, even when the sound produced with a leeward wind was discordant.

It had taken further consultation with the Lord to resolve the matter, with adjustments of the chimes so that some hung in from the openings rather than all in a line where they could tangle together.

Perhaps in a century Tehe'Tenq would be ready to make his thoughts heard…

Better yet, two.

Heat warmed Xilotl the instant they stepped within the chamber and though it was a far cry from the fiery warmth of a proper forge, such as the one they had had in their quarters down in the barrio, it was still of great comfort. True it was not large enough to do more than a little dabbling. Enough room to produce a bronze dagger or a face mask, certainly not a full set of armor or a proper weapon such as a halberd or spear. Or even a decent shield.

Of course, without the actual forges it was all but impossible to produce the even greater works and their fellow Artisan-Priests in the barrios could only manage to output a small trickle of arms and armor. That they were allowed this small indulgence was only a sign of the beneficence of Lord Wik'keer'mal, though of course they could not imagine the Slann had any knowledge at all of their works. Perhaps, when their art was refined enough, the High Lord would and Xilotl would be allowed to armor the Lord's own palanquin with some small measure of their efforts.

It was a fond wish.

But ah, enough of dreaming, they turned their attention to the forge at the back of the chamber and pulled open the door to pull out the block of glowing bronze.

A few light taps to test the metal and once they were satisfied… crash, bang. Crash, bang.

Crash, bang.

Draw out the arch of the blade a little more. It was meant to resemble the talon of one of the great eagles, which Xilotl had never seen in person, so that its point would fly straight and true. And strike with force enough to drive itself deep.

Power gathered, drawn into the moment of anticipation that collapsed down in the plane of their hammer..

BANG, crash.

Readjust. Angle the flat of the hammer. Two degrees off centerline. Yes there was the focal point.

Crash, bang.

A brief flare and some of the shimmering heat in the air sank deeper into the blade, distantly Xilotl heard the cry of a bird. Had their mouth been capable of the expression they would have smiled.

Another pile of scrolls appeared at the end of the long table and the mounting pile threatened to collapse and spill out onto the floor for a long moment. But thankfully did not. Xehtzaihl shook their head, turned back to the scroll in front of them and bent again to resume their examinations.

Every one of the scrolls would need to be engraved onto stone tablets in time, to preserve the knowledge in something more lasting than dried and pressed reed pith. For the moment though the scrolls were better. Easier to transport, to scribe onto, so that the contemplations of the Slann would not be forgotten. They had, until last year, been a mason and a carpenter charged with maintaining the edifices of the outer walls and the various wooden constructs used to transport bulk goods over the same. And been quite skilled at it too. There had been a preference in the last half century for the use of the western wall, their wall, for such needs by the scouting and foraging parties.

It had been pleasing.

And then one day a runner had come from the temple, commanding that Xehtzaihl should leave their duties at once and attend to some Lords in contemplation. Though in retrospect they must have misunderstood, for it had not been some minor Slann Lords that had been in the chamber when Xehtzaihl had arrived, but Lord Wik'keer'mal himself.

With all his personal attendants arrayed about him.

Xehtzaihl had immediately prostrated themself and so overcome with shock had they been that it took several moments to understand that in point of fact the Lord's Chief Priest was speaking. Then several moments to grasp what the priest was saying. No longer were they a humble Artisan-Priest overseeing the work along the western walls, now they were to be an attendant of the Lord himself and given a special project of great import.

The forthcoming construction of water going vessels. Such were not entirely foreign, Skinks after all greatly enjoyed the taste of fish, though what they constructed was usually not more complicated than a dozen hewn logs strapped together to fish saltwater fish from. But the schematics which soon began to appear in the chamber Xehtzaihl occupied were no simple rafts.

First came the broad design sketches; behemoths of stone and wood more akin to a floating city than any vessel ever made by scaled hands, then smaller, barely, vessels still fit to hold a small raiding force, and on until finally the smallest designs were tiny personal craft meant for stealth which could carry nor more than two Skinks at a time.

But the flow of scrolls did not stop there. No, next came more detailed drawings.

Schematics which meticulously defined the construction of sails, their various configurations and the advantages and trade-offs of each. Then designs for the riggings, the rudders, for mounting greatbows and other armaments, and a dozen other particulars. Plans for navigational aids. Musings on the proper formations ships should sail in together, on methods of achieving landings. And of course the most involved elements, which covered dozens of scrolls each, the enchanted stone disks which would serve to reduce the overall weight of the ships themselves and provide a modicum of motive power.

All of it Xehtzaihl had to review and catalogue, picking out the critical elements for immediate dissemination and recording so that when it came time to lay down the first hulls it could be done speedily and on schedule.

Under a blazing sun, Awanabil'tat paced the edges of the crumbling edifice. His darting eyes took in the collapsed wall and noted where once there would have been slits from which to launch darts or jab a spear tip. It was almost a pyramid-temple in miniature, though missing the proper stepped pattern.

If only the interior were not utterly collapsed he might be able to determine exactly which temples it most likely mirrored.

He clucked his tongue and shouted to his assistant.

"Accounting for angle of approach, and alignment along recorded leylines, candidates are the Temples of Tlanxla and Xokha."

It was rare for Skinks who were not Priests to contemplate the sacred geometries, but Awanbil'tat had a special talent for perceiving and considering them that was a great help in their work as an architect. Especially in the maintenance and repair of the various works that still remained.

With the recent discovery of the state of the outer bunkers he had been sent out to ascertain what work would need to be done to return them into proper order. So far he had visited half a dozen and discovered that all were all but destroyed. And if his suspicions proved correct Various temples and shrines in Zlatlan would need to be repaired before the bunkers would see their full worth proven.

Action Incomplete - 4 Successes Remain

Awanabil'tat
- Type: Chief
- Specialization: Architect

Xehtzaihl
- Type: Artisan-Priest
- Specialization: Shipwright

Xilotl
- Type: Artisan-Priest
- Specialization: Smith

Tehe'Tenq
- Type: Scribe

A Quieter Search (Target: last known Warmblood settlement, see if they're still alive and uncorrupted), 1 die

36
1 Success!

Total Successes: 1

Before the Great Catastrophe there had been little inhabiting the jungles besides Lizardmen; no itza'xa'khanx had ever wandered so far in their wanderings and the dro'ka'thanx had never travelled so far south. Only the cho'mundi'khanx had ever seen fit to build settlements in the domain of the Lizardmen. Though it was an open question where their modes of habitation were fit to be termed settlements in truth, they could hardly even stand up to a stiff breeze.

Still it was determined that establishing the state of their population in the area would be important to the work of Lord Wik'keer'mal. And so, at the same time the expedition to Nahuantl was prepared, orders went out to the small band of chameleon skinks inhabiting the jungles around Zlatlan.

They ventured out at nearly the same time and in the same direction, but one returned earlier.

It was not unexpected, for Nahuantl was much further than the nearest known settlement of the warmbloods. Or rather the last known location of such. There had been, according to reports from just before the Great Catastrophe, a sizable, for their kind, community of the cho'mundi'khanx to the north of Zlatlan along the southern Red River.

Even that was… a decade out of date by the time of the Catastrophe, and several centuries had passed since. Though bands of the warmbloods had been seen in the time since, they were paltry things and not at all settled; prone to wandering about and carrying all they owned on their backs.

And of course running at the first sign of scale and claw.

So the Chameleon Skinks went out, and in the space of a year returned carrying the expected news. The settlement was gone, though whether it had been consumed by the hordes of the daemons during the Catastrophe or merely collapse of its own accord was impossible to determine. All that remained were the indications of rotted posts, long buried refuse pits, and the ruins of a single moss covered shrine to a nameless god taken over by some fruit bearing tree.

Nine years passed before the expedition to Nahuantl returned. It returned without fanfare or announcement, though it's approach had been noted for two days by scouting Terradon riders, it's forces almost immediately dispersing to their regular duties as Huatza'Botl marched to deliver their report to Lord Wik'keer'mal.

It was not a pleasant report to hear. North of the Red River half the jungle was ablaze, scouting told that one of the volcanoes to the east amongst the smoking caverns had erupted and the flow of molten rock had lit a fire in the jungle. On their return journey the fire had guttered out, dampened by the yearly rains most like.

And the terrain was already renewing but it would be years yet before the jungle of that area returned in full. The smoke blowing in from that region had indeed been heavier in recent years.

But that was not the primary unpleasantness. No, that was in Nahuantl itself.

The Temple-City was tainted. And the garrison hard pressed. It had taken most of those seven years Huatza'Botl was in residence in the city just to clear the nests of daemons and chattel that had taken over several sections of the city.

Unfortunately without a sufficient force of priests to perform a cleansing they judged it better to return to Zlatlan to receive further instructions, leaving behind only a small detachment to bolster the efforts of the garrison. Hopefully the numbers of the unclean could be kept in check for the time being.

… Completed. Martial Actions Unlocked!

A Disciplined Mind, 11 Fourth Spawning + 29 Fifth Spawning dice

70, 49, 74, 92, 96, 79, 33, 64, 39, 17
20, 9 10, 71, 36, 3 10, 9 10, 98, 62, 14, 58
43, 32, 76, 81, 72, 40, 85, 9 10, 94
66, 5 20, 58, 68, 24, 26, 66, 69, 100, 47, 88

8 Successes! 1 Natural Critical! +1 Success

Total: 9 Successes

Year on year, decade after decade, dozens of the Slann now occupying the various temple chambers of Zlatlan gather together - day and night, under noonday suns and starlit nights - to turn their minds onto the persistent torpor which frequently overtakes them. Some, like Hixha'zaq originally from Tlaqua, quite literally fall asleep during their meditations and have to be ferried away by Skink attendants.

Only after they've been returned to their palanquins. Hixha'zaq's attendants strain to shift his unsupported bulk and nearly drop him in shock when in his sleep he utters the barest mumble; several hurried conversations are then had, but alas whatever wisdoms might have been gleaned remain indecipherable even to his closest companions. A Kroxigor is brought in and Hixha'zaq's bulk was finally steered onto his palanquin and his sleeping form ushered from the communal chamber.

And so the rest of the gathering continues; Four Slann of the Fourth Spawning leading nine of the Fifth in a steady contemplation of all they experienced and witnessed during the Great Catastrophe. Scattered glimpses into maddening realms of twisted, impossible illogic where things that never were cavorted in horrific mockeries of life. The depredations of daemons on the material world, slavering jaws and vicious minds seeking only to tear down the properly imposed order. Cruel laughter on the winds.

But something stymied them. A persistent thread of uncertainty and confusion that wound itself through the miniature communion. Memories and recollections that could not have been.

Hideous hybrids of dro'ka'khanx and some lumbering creature half aflame, others wielding powers their kind had never been meant to grasp and commanding screaming devices of conflagration and doom. Dredged in hatred and greed and malice.

Numberless hordes of the cho'mundi'khanx clad in tainted steel armor and wielding contemptible weapons, braying their disdain for a god whose name no Slann had ever heard uttered. Echoes. Untethered potentialities fallen through gaps in the fabric of an ordered universe rendered frayed and threadbare by the cataclysm which faced them. And in those impossible memories they glimpsed yet more.

An empire shattered in paradox and contradiction. Knowledge, plans, ambitions slipping away in moments which had been theirs for millenia, the shape of their own past glories thrown suddenly into sharp relief and rendered nearly unrecognizable. As if it were little more than water flowing through a sieve and leaving behind only the pebbles to build on. Then, finally the last of the gathered Slann slipped back into catatonia.

On the cusp of revelation, but robbed of it.

Action Incomplete - 1 Success Remains

Catastrophe in Review, 3 Third Spawning dice

39, 65, 40

3 Successes!

Total: 3 Successes

For three decades, even as other Slann pondered the matter of the pall of lethargy that has recently befallen them, Memre-Xoq turned his mind to recalling the Great Catastrophe in as great a detail as he could. A task which gave him more than some little trouble. When once he had been in residence in Teotiqua, not the ruler of the same - who now sat interred as a Relic Priest in the Mortuary Complex of Zlatlan - but simply a resident, Memre-Xoq had been known for his superlative memory. Able to recall the most exacting details of events even millenia distant and draw out the same in his fellows as well as from Skink Priests, it had greatly helped him coordinate the efforts of both during the long siege of Zlatlan.

Yet now that talent failed him.

Crucial details slipped away, blurred by a mist he could not peirce even at great mental exertion. And yet the task must be completed, and so he called upon the rest of the Slann visiting them slowly over months and years through spirit even as some slept. Thus through great effort Memre-Xoq pieced together a tapestry of the most mundane elements of the Catastrophe. The simple failures of equipment and doctrine; how the darts from Skink blowpipes could sap strength and rend the minor daemons in their endless hordes, but would barely scratch greater foes except through tremendous fortune, or how standing atop a wall or in the deep jungle the shields of the Saurus were versatile and yet in the open field the could not provide sufficient coverage to withstand withering unnatural fire or would let slip too many of the endlessly raining blows.

Or how eventually, through constant wear and the unending tide of enemies of ceaseless pounding of disaster upon disaster newly spawned Saurus were forced to fight not with blessed Obsinite weapons but with crude consecrated weapons of simple stone. Legions of Saurus caught out without support from Skinks picked apart at range without so much as scratching their enemies as overseeing Slann were forced to watch. Cohorts of Skinks ambushed by the sudden appearance of superheavy elements, crushed as their javelins failed to penetrate unnaturally thick hides. And a hundred other more minor disaster with a dozen different causes.

At the end, exhausted, Memre-Xoq commanded his attendants to transcribe his report, delivered it at a frenetic pace and then promptly fell into a deep slumber.

Action Complete. Reward: New Learning Actions Unlocked!

Testing the Waters, 3 Fifth Spawning dice

47, 99, 21

2 Successes! 1 Natural Critical! +1 Success

Total: 3 Successes

For a year towards the end of the century three Slann, all of the Fifth Generation, interrogate all the still living Skinks who witnessed these shapes offshore, questioning them thoroughly on the matter. Then they trawled through their memories for details they would not have even noticed. There is not precisely very much information to be had.

A Skink's eyes are exceptional, designed to spot and record even distant objects in precise detail, but there are limits to what can be accomplished with living matter and though Lizardmen possess a number of devices for magnification even they cannot uncurve the plane of the world and make visible that which was not.Still, in the end it is more than sufficient to build on.

It is, after all, simply a matter of crude physics. Such has never proved a challenge for the Slann before. And so it is that by the close of the century a number of plans have been laid out for potential watercraft of all sorts.

They range from lumbering behemoths of stone and wood to darting little things that have to be actually rowed! Crude solutions. But, needs must.

Action Complete. Reward: Stewardship Actions to Build Ships, once you have somewhere to build them.

Review the Sequence, 2 Third Spawning + 3 Fifth Spawning dice

60, 62
85, 38, 22

5 Successes!

Total: 5 Successes

Deep within the temple-pyramids of Zlatlan, behind heavy stone doors enhanced with wardings powerful enough to strike the foolish dead, there are chambers filled with plaques of gold - gold that is not quite gold - these plaques when properly studied can reveal the intents of the Old Ones. More complete than those across the ocean many were the times others of the Sublime Communion would consult with Zlatlan, seeking aid in discerning the meaning of a given plaque and whether events were spiralling even further out of control or finally beginning to steer themselves back on course. It was never a simple matter.

For the plaques are not inscribed with anything so vulgar as simple script, their message resounded beyond the corporeal and into the spiritual, the aethyric. A plaque a handspan wide and tall could contain such a wealth of information it would take lesser creatures centuries to resolve even the meagerest glimmer of truth from it. Slann could usually manage it in decades, a century at the outside.

Though, before the Great Catastrophe it had never seemed necessary to decipher them at all.

More concerning than even that worrying thought though was the fact that their meanings seemed to… shift now where before they had been stolid dependable things, unalterable facts of reality which asserted themselves unerringly whenever they were consulted. Once grasped they seemed to return to that same immutability, or at least remained much easier to comprehend a second time.

But the Sequence contains a great many plaques that no Slann can recall ever consulting, not before or since the Old Ones left. Their shifting signatures taunt, promising at once an insurmountable mountain and the certainty of salvation if only they could be made to reveal their secrets.

A great amount of work remains ahead.

Action Incomplete. Initial investigations concluded; Sequence is non-static, semi-discrete but vastly interconnected. You have reached the end of the easily graspable portions of it, those portions already investigated by the Slann. DC is now 90.

[-] Personal: Personal Project: Perform a ritual to make Zlatlan, or if it were safer the jungles around Zlatlan, a locus of the Green Wind, naturally attracting Ghyran, a conduit of energy with which you will undertake future projects. (Personal-scale), 1 die

66

Success!

During his time at the Forge, when in elder days Wik'keer'mal taught dro'ka'khanx and itza'xa'khanx some measure of the mysteries of magic, he often found it was useful to start them with a focus of sorts. Talismans naturally attractive to one or more of the winds for the itza'xa'khanx and precisely time ritual chants matched with hammer blows for the dro'ka'khanx. Each aided them in grasping at the strands of power and weaving them into coherent wholes. Slann of course have no need of such things.

No need, but much use.

Though, it needs be said that for a Slann a focus is vastly different. More than a simple device for gathering and concentrating energies but a working of such in and of itself imbued with no smaller part of the Slann's own will and intent. Of course such things others could do, but… as paler reflections of a Slann's efforts.

And so Wik'keer'mal set about his work, gathering the Ghyran over the course of weeks and months and pouring it steadily into a set of hives especially picked out for this purpose. A year it took for the first signs to manifest; a bee from one hive entering its home and exiting from an entirely different hive moments later. Slowly day by day the trick was repeated by more and more of the bees.

Not just separate hives, but separate species. Bound together. Then another year. More and more of the wind, until at last there were not five hives but one, shimmering faintly green. At last he had his start.

Action Completed. Gain Equipment: Fivefold Hive of Jade

Effects: Enhances Ghyran Spells when cast through. When you use your personal dice on a Learning action relating to flora or fauna, automatically add two successes. Do not roll.

Further Development Possible. Currently Locked.

[-] Personal: Personal Project: Create a great magical garden, more a forest really, within which you might grow flora and agriculture with which to do any number of things, from supercharging the Lizardmen, magical focuses and ingredients, or simply have something to tend to so as to focus your mind., 1 die

2

Critical Failure!

Amongst the temples of Tlaxtlan, Wik'keer'mal recalled, there was one girded by an enormous array of floating gardens. He had visited it once and passed several fortnights amidst a sea of life so artfully arranged it was almost as if to be in the presence of the Old Ones. Or so at least he had been told.

By the previous ruler of Zlatlan in fact, Chiccotta of the Second Spawning who had been a student of the Old One Xholankha, the Lost, the same Xholankha around whose temple those gardens had been arranged in remembrance. At the height of the incursion Chiccotta had used those teachings and enacted a great ritual, alone, that had dispersed the greater part of the daemonic horde bearing down on the continent. He had died in the effort.

Now his body was laid in the Mortuary Complex, carefully preserved. Wik'keer'mal had taken charge in the aftermath, using the precious time bought by the spell to shore up defences and recover precious artifacts before the next wave was vomited forth. Chiccotta had save them all wi-

No… that wasn't right.

Wik'keer'mal remembered commanding the defense of Zlatlan for centuries. Remembered the long desperate struggle to safeguard the transit of the other Slann in their retreats across the continent. Remembered Lord Adohi-Tehga himself commanding that he go to Zlatlan immediately there to take charge of the city, there had been no one else in the garden those nights.

Yet... he vividly recalled Lord… Chiccotta's sacrifice. Of… learning that… Lost… Xholankha… had…

And so the Lord Zlatlan, Ruler of the Hidden City, fell into slumber at the end of the century.

Critical Failure. Action Incomplete -1 Personal Dice next turn.

Notes: There's the first turn guys! Lots of stuff going on here. Got very lucky with your rolls on getting Saurus characters, which sort of got made up with the critical failure on your last personal action. Still lots of fun stuff. Exact mechanical benefits of the characters are still being determined on my end, but as they're not necessary for the turn there was no reason to wait.

@jjffjhjf you did almost complete A Disciplined Mind in one turn! Exactly one success off.

And I hope @EVA-Saiyajin doesn't mind me stealing their Skink character from Respect Your Elders, but we are in Zlatlan so it seemed appropriate. If you want I can always change the name as he obviously hasn't developed fully into who you imagined him to be at this point. Next turn will come sometime later in the week. Comments and questions welcome.

CuttleFish2.0 · May 27, 2020

Rain beat down the steps of the temple-pyramids and tiny rivulets ran down the wide avenues of Zlatlan, eventually making their way through runnels through grates and into the series of vaulted cisterns beneath the city. Thunder cracked out and lightening lit the sky a second later. Skinks and Saurus and Kroxigor worked on despite it all, a little slower, but with the same dedication. After all this would not be the only storm.

Harvest must still be brought in; some of them early and then dried by fire or magic to avoid spoilage. Stores would be slightly low for the year. They would hold. Tehe'Tinq had done the calculations himself to certain of that fact. A year or seven of extreme rains, or drought was barely a blip though the stores were dwindling century over century and if action was not taken eventually measures would have to be taken to stabilize the situation.

Matters were not to that stage yet.

And Tehe'Tinq had many other things on his mind, now that the production of new armaments was not being hampered by the need to maintain near ruined structures and facilities in the barrios the armories of Zlatlan could begin filling again. Darts, javelins, poisons, and talismans. Most of it went out into the jungle to be used up in the course of patrols but every day a small handful of supplies could be put aside to go into storage in case of siege.

Not enough. Zlatlan would not even last a decade in its current state, but the situation was improving. With two more spawning pools active it would only continue to improve, already the population of Zlatlan was beginning to climb above bare replacement levels.

A chime sounded deeper within the temple and Tehe'Tinq turned. Ah. Lord Wik'keer'mal had shown signs of stirring these last few weeks, and the meetings amongst his attendants had been near constant in preparation.

Discussions on every report concerning the state of the city that dragged on for hours. Arguments about what matters to raise and which could be safely dealt with beneath the Lord's notice. Tehe'Tinq dearly hoped the Lord would wake soon and bring it all to an end, otherwise the senior attendants might work themselves into a true frenzy.

Turn 2
You have 28 Dice Available!

(30 + 26 = 56/2 = 28)

See Misc. for available character dice.

To assigned a character to an action format it like this:

[-] Action: # Dice, Character

Only one character per action unless otherwise stated.

Martial: Huatza-Botl has taken able charge of your forces, and his success in the expedition to Nahuantl has revealed a matter most dire in time for it to be dealt with. The world is, for the time being, still quiescent. Though the Great Warding continues to strain as work continues on your (and presumably those of the Slann across the ocean) efforts to bolster it. What will happen when that work completes is as of yet uncertain.

Long-Range Patrols: With the patrols of the immediate environs seen to and with the knowledge of more distant terrain from Huatza-Botl's forces some progress has been made mapping and regularizing longer ranging patrols. There still remained much to ensure Zlatlan was not blind to anything more than a week's travel away.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 3. Limit: 2. Reward: Gain a slow trickle of information on activity in your general vicinity, and knowledge of the state of more distant outer defences.

Expedition to [Write-in]: The other Temple-Cities stand all but empty, only garrisons even smaller than your own safeguarding them. But that does not mean they hold nothing of value nor that you should abandon them. Send an expedition to one of them and ascertain what state they are in, and perhaps retrieve valuable resources from them.

Choose from:

- Cuexotl

- Golden Tower of the Gods

- Tlaqua

- Teotiqua

- Temple-Avenue of Gold

- Temple of Skulls

Note: Will lock in dice used for a variable amount of time depending on rolls and Temple-City chosen.

DC: ??? Successes Needed: ???. Limit: 2. Reward: Knowledge of other Temple-Cities, resources.

Cleansing Nahuantl: The taint in Nahuantl cannot stand. With the daemon forces momentarily curtailed the Temple-City can be cleansed of the corruption that has taken root and the problem stamped out root and stem. It is certain the daemons have been sustaining themselves on the trickle of energy the local Geomantic Web can provide, but they may have been drawn to particular sites by valuable artifacts.

Note: Also requires 2 Slann Dice.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 4. Reward: Nahuantl cleansed of taint, potentially recovered artifacts. Stabilize Geomantic Web around Nahuantl?

Hunting Parties: With a sudden infusion of new beasts in the form of Horned Ones the need for meat has grown, thankfully with your patrols finally properly established it is also somewhat easier to address. Have your patrols dedicate time and effort to hunting, and keep a sharp eye out for any animals suitable for domestication and herding.

DC: 0/40. Successes Needed: 3/1. Limit: 5. Reward: Status for carnivorous war beasts stabilized for current turn. Potential to identify livestock animals.

Stewardship: Zlatlan is near half a ruin. Much work remains to be done in order to restore it even to the glory of its founding, nevermind the heights it reached before the Great Catastrophe.

Gate Repairs: All of your Main Gates were damaged in the fighting and without need of large troop movements they have remained so. Begin unsealing and/or repairing them. Specify a Gate. Can be taken multiple times.

- Southern Gate - DC: 40. Successes Needed: 8

- Eastern Gate - Successes Needed: 6

- Northern Gate - Successes Needed: 8

- Western Gate - Successes Needed: 3

DC: 0/40. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 14. Reward: Repaired Main Gates.

Wall Repairs: Though you have sealed any major gaps in the walls, entire sections still show damage. Stains of unreal pus and blood that do not fade must be cleansed away, cracks sealed, battlements restored from where winged daemons crashed into the walls. All and more must be set to right.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 16. Limit: 5. Reward: Walls Restored, better defenses in case of concerted attack.

Defensive Aims: Mounted blow pipes, warded cauldrons full of liquid fire, spouts meant to shower attackers in sprays of caustic venom, and more. Though you cannot necessarily provide the ammunition for many of them you can at least restore their physical operation.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 8. Limit: 4. Reward: 'Mundane' wall defenses restored to functionality.

Unsealing Minor Entrances: For a time during the Great Catastrophe your forces still passed beyond the walls of Zlatlan to meet armies of daemons head on, eventually that proved too dangerous and the Main Gates were sealed. But still your forces sometimes needed to leave, only in small groups, armed in your best arms and armor, until eventually that too was too great a threat. Then even those entrances were sealed. Only a handful have been unsealed since.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 6. Limit: 6. Reward: Slight decrease in difficulty of Stewardship actions.

Clearing Rubble: Most of Zlatlan is clear of rubble. But some locations have not even seen that much attention. Address this. Specific location.

- Forge Districts - Successes Needed: 8

- Assembly Yards - Successes Needed: 6

- Temple of Chotec - Successes Needed: 4

- Temple of Huanchi - Successes Needed: 6

- Temple of Tepok - Successes Needed: 4

- Temple of Xokha - Successes Needed: 5

- Temple of Tlanxla - Successes Needed: 5

- Minor Shrines - Successes Needed: 4

- Mortuary Shrines - Successes Needed: 2

DC: 0. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 10. Reward: Gain access to currently blocked off buildings and locations.

Beast Pen Repairs: Before the coming of the enemy in force you kept your beasts of burden and war in specially kept enclosures which facilitate their comfort and armament. But in order to save even the slimmest of their numbers it was necessary to bring them inside the walls and keep them in much barer conditions. Even those have been damaged and now they must be repaired.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 4. Limit: 8. Reward: Beasts better kept until you can rebuild better accommodations.

Reseeding the Pastures: Some of your beasts require actual grazing lands. For the last few centuries you have managed off of the growth of gardens and occasionally foraging once the Great Catastrophe was over. But the ancient fields that they once grazed could be restored, it only requires cleansing and reseeding the lands.

DC: 30. Successes Needed: 2/2/2. Limit: 12. Reward: Stegadon and Bastiladon conditions stabilize and will slowly begin improving.

Pool Work: Many spawning pools were damaged in the Great Catastrophe, slowing the recovery of your population to a trickle. Little of the damage is serious any longer, major rents were sealed long ago, but subtler damage must still be fixed in order to put them in good order.

Note: One Pool at 1/3 Successes.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3 per destroyed spawning pool. Limit: 9. Reward: Repaired spawning pools. Increased population growth.

Resetting Traps: Whenever the walls were breached, as they were more than once, the daemons did not find a vulnerable interior which they could despoil to their heart's content. Instead they ran headlong into walls of fire and lightening, pits lined with obsinite spikes, avenues buttressed by walls that shot barbed darts. Every step they took extracted a bloody price. But eventually the pits filled, the ammunition ran dry, and the fire and lightening failed to come. Restore those defenses.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 10. Limit: 6. Reward: Increased defense if your walls are breached again.

Opening the Seas for Fun and Profit: Zlatlan sits near the coast, but not on it, and it is clear to you now that you will need a permanent location at which you can produce watercraft of all sorts. Some of your designs are simply too large to be built freestanding and the complexity of even a moderately sized vessel exceeds what can be done without dedicated logistical support.

DC: 20 . Successes Needed: 5. Limit: 8. Reward: Find and establish a suitable port.

Diplomacy: You know of no one else in these lands who would not either obey you without question or flee from you in terror. And you have no way of speaking to anyone beyond its shores.

Getting to Know your Attendants: Though they have been constant presences in your life for centuries in truth you know little of your attendants, that ignorance can be excused given the circumstance of the Great Catastrophe. Before then you never had an attendant for more than a decade at a time, the empire of the Lizardmen was vast and always in need of resources elsewhere. Now though, you will likely be spending millenia with the same attendants. Learn who they are.

Note: Requires Personal Dice.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 4. Reward: Become familiar with two of your attendants. Gives a small permanent boost to dice pool, chance of Skink character.

Intrigue: You know of no one else in these lands you might need to spy on. And even if you did you have pitifully few Chameleon Skinks with which to do it. Though those you do have are veterans of an extremely long running guerrilla war against the daemons during the Great Catastrophe.

A Quieter Search: Chameleon Skinks by nature do not tend to settle in Temple-Cities. Send them out to do what your Saurus cannot, range far and see the state of the world beyond here.

Note: Must specify a general direction or destination. Locks in die and takes variable time to complete.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Information on distant places. Small chance of loot. Warnings of particular long-term threats in a given direction.

Seeking Salamanders: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck as some of those that you lost are notoriously dangerous to keep confined. Salamanders can be remarkably jumpy creatures, and their first reaction is to set things alight. Still, it might be time to locate some.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Salamanders.

Razordon Recon: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck in its own way, that many fewer mouths to feed. Razordons for all their relatively small size compared to many of your other beasts have voracious appetites, it takes quite a bit of energy to produce the sheer volume of spines they do. They are useful though.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Razordons.

Learning: Your mind is sluggish and your body lethargic. Frequently you fall into periods of stupor and rest from which you awake not energize but surrounded by a fog through which you must fight to come into full alertness. This is not how you were meant to be. You know much still and yet other knowledge alludes you, like a vine just out of reach. The other Slann of Zlatlan are similarly afflicted.

Each turn, for every increment of ten years some slann will be awake and some asleep. Like actions in other categories those in Learning must be completed by spending dice, but only Slann can contribute.

You have
2 Slann of the Third Spawning Dice (Floor at 30)
8 Slann of the Fourth Spawning Dice (Floor at 20)
31 Slann of the Fifth Spawning Dice (Floor at 10)

Error Checking: The work to bolster the Great Warding continues, it will soon complete. Without access to the sublime communion you can still only rely on past efforts, trusting that nothing has altered the necessary work. It might behoove you to perform some double checking.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 5. Reward: Ensure your portion of the Web will fully support the Great Warding.

Improved Pipes: Ideal for harassment, raids, and skirmishing, the common blowgun available to your Skink Cohorts met its match in the fighting against the endless streams of daemons. Even obsinite pellets and tips for darts could not reliably pierce the hides and armor of many. And yet there are still numerous advantages to the weapon, but some manner of improvements can surely be made.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. Reward: Improved range and damage for blowguns.

Javelins Too: Even your javelins would often fail to pierce deeply enough to do significant damage against large or armored threats. The problem, fundamentally, is a matter of leverage, skinks do not have sufficient mass to provide the necessary power to pierce heavy armor or scales outside of chance. Luckily the matter should be easily addressed.

DC: 10. Successes Needed: 2. Reward: Gain spear-throwers for javelins, gives variable fire; trading rate of fire for armor piercing when necessary.

A Greater Trickle: In the waning days of the Catastrophe, your forces actually started to run out of obsinite weapons as ammo was lost beyond your battle lines and weapons fell into the hands of the enemy. Your patrols have tried to recover what they can but much is utterly lost. Instead many have reverted to using simple stone weapons, meagerly blessed by what skink priests can be spared from other duties as the trickle of new obsinite weapons works to reequip even your now meager armies. See what can be done to speed the process along.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Armory replenishment rate increases.

Shields for all Occasions: In the steaming press of the jungle, from the back of Cold Ones, and atop intact fortifications your shields are more than sufficient for weathering the storm of projectiles and blows of a daemon army. Out in the open field with your forces arrayed to receive a charge though, they afford too many gaps for a missile or blow to slip in between. Examine other potential designs.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 2. Reward: Shield options for forces.

A Disciplined Mind: Though you are young by the reckoning of the slann, you yet still remember the world before the Great Catastrophe and the vigor with which you trod it. Now that vitality is yours only fleetingly and always followed by long stretches of extended lethargy. Turn your prodigious insight on the problem, perhaps there might be some manner of loosening the grip of whatever spiritual malady or malignant thought pattern has affected your kind.

DC: 80. Successes Needed: 1. Reward: Gain greater chance to remain Alert for longer.

Plant Investigations - Red Berries: Your surveys have found a number of potentially useful new species of flora that have cropped up in the centuries since the end of the Great Catastrophe. One such is a species of bush that produces red berries in abundance. A few creatures of the jungle have been noted to eat them, a small handful at a time, before hunting. Investigate their uses.

DC: 30. Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Knowledge of applications and cultivation.

Plant Investigations - Bait Vine: Your surveys have found a number of potentially useful new species of flora that have cropped up in the centuries since the end of the Great Catastrophe. In particular there is a vine that produces dangling rosaries of red seeds that much resemble another species' fruit. When eaten they have a paralytic effect. The vine then partially detaches and proceeds to consume the still living creature. Investigate its uses.

DC: 30. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Knowledge of applications and cultivation..

Plant Investigations - Leadwood Tree: Your surveys have found a number of potentially useful new species of flora that have cropped up in the centuries since the end of the Great Catastrophe. In particular this hardy tree, incredibly difficult to fell, has been noticed in certain isolated rocky outcroppings.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Knowledge of applications and cultivation..

Tracing the Web: Once the Geomantic Web stretched across the continent and over the ocean, now that connection is cut and though the energies still flow they are only tiny rivulets where once they were floods. Follow those ancient flows, spiritually, to gain insights and knowledge of distant places.

DC: 20/40/60/80. Successes Needed: 2 per tier. Reward: Knowledge and ???

Examining the Wards: Mystical wards line every spare block of stone in your walls, feeding into greater wardings that encompass the entire Temple-City. Currently they are not performing to specifications, though so far no flaws have been divined by your skink priests. Examine their structure and ascertain the origin of this weakness.

DC: 60. Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Wards repaired.

Contemplate the Stars: The movements of the heavens have always held sway over the fortunes of events on the ground; whether by influencing the flow of the Winds of Magic, through fortuitous alignments for the designs of the enemy, or simply as heralds for cosmological events. Reading them may provide you with some insight in events soon to come to pass.

DC: 60. Successed Needed: 6. Reward: Minor Prophecy or Warning.

Review the Sequence: Your initial explorations of the Sacred Plaques has revealed a great deal about them. And about the difficulty you will face in deciphering their meaning in toto. Plaques seem to shift and transform over the years, though whether this is simply hidden aspects coming to the fore or actual changes is as of yet unclear. Still it is vital to your goals that you press on. Without knowing the Great Plan there is precious little to be done but guess and that is unacceptable.

DC: 90. Successes Needed: ??? Reward: Greater understanding of the Plan.

Personal
You have one (2 - 1 = 1) Personal Dice

Meditate: Contemplate the Sun. Turn your mind east. Consider the endless horizon stretching on and on into eternity. Place yourself then at the zenith and draw all the world inward.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Slight increase to Alertness for next turn.

Lend your Insight: Spend some time considering a matter.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Add 1 dice to any action.

Teachers Learn Too: You remember fondly your students amongst the itza'xa'khanx and dro'ka'khanx, how they took your lessons and slowly pierced back the veil of the world to glimpse in their own ways the power at their fingertips. Overcoming limitations you first thought insurmountable in the case of the delvers.

DC: 50/70. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Opens further research options.

Garden of the Lost: In distant Tlaxtlan there was built a garden about the Temple of Xholankha, the Lost, a place of great tranquility that drew the Wind which was your focus, Ghyran, and sheltered plants from every corner of the world and beyond. You seek to recreate that to provide Zlatlan with the same.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Stewardship Action and Learning Action to complete the work.

Personal Project: Write-in some sort of magical ritual, or project you wish to undertake in your free time. Subject to QM approval.

DC: Variable. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: Variable. Reward: My interpretation of your write-in.

Note: Second turn. If you notice any mistakes please let me know, and feel free to ask any questions you might have.

Manual Moratorium
Probably about 3-4 hours. Depending on the pace of Discussion. And if I get distracted.
Vote by Plan.

CuttleFish2.0 · Jun 1, 2020

[X] Plan Pool Skimmers and Prybars
-[X] Martial: Long-Range Patrols: 1 die, Khaxilitli (+1 die)
-[X] Martial: Cleansing Nahuantl: 4 generic dice, 2 5th Spawning Slann dice, Huatza-Botl, Qu'Qu-Kor (+1 Martial die, increased magical defence)
-[X] Martial: Hunting Parties: 2 dice, Loqtli (+1 Martial success, maneuvering/ambush perk)
-[X] Stewardship: Clearing Rubble (Forge Districts): 1 die, Xilotl (+2 Stewardship successes when involving metal)
-[X] Stewardship: Clearing Rubble (Temple of Chotec): 1 die, Awanabil'tat (+2 Stewardship successes on shrines/temples)
-[X] Stewardship: Unsealing Minor Entrances: 6 dice
-[X] Stewardship: Pool Work: 4 dice
-[X] Stewardship: Reseeding the Pastures: 4 dice, Tehe'tenq (+1 Stewardship die)
-[X] Stewardship: Opening the Seas: 5 dice, Xetzaihl (+2 Stewardship successes when involving watercraft)
-[X] Learning: Error Checking: 6 5th Spawning Slann dice
-[X] Learning: Improved Pipes: 1 4th Spawning Slann die
-[X] Learning: Javelins Too: 2 5th Spawning Slann dice
-[X] Learning: A Greater Trickle: 5 4th Spawning Slann dice, 1 5th Spawning Slann die
-[X] Learning: A Disciplined Mind: 10 5th Spawning Slann dice
-[X] Learning: Plant Investigations - Red Berries: 2 3rd Spawning Slann die, 1 personal die (+2 successes from Fivefold Hive of Jade)
-[X] Learning: Tracing the Web: 2 4th Spawning Slann dice
-[X] Learning: Examining the Wards: 10 5th Spawning Slann dice
-[X] Personal: Lend Your Insight (Learning:Red Berries): +1 die on chosen action

Turn 2 Results

Long-Range Patrols 1 die, Khaxilitli

55, 79

2 Successes!

Total: 2

Khaxilitli led a band of fourteen Saurus and eighty-two Skinks out of Zlatlan's western gate in single file, opening it any further risked damage to the mechanisms of the gate. Kroxigors had to turn and squeeze or be lower over the walls.

Getting any of the war beasts, beside a particularly placid bastiladon, out of the city was out of the question. Though a handful of the Cold Ones could be led by the nose if they were blinkered. It was fortunate that there had yet been no call to need any of the war beasts beyond the walls, though once the minor gates and sally ports were unsealed at least the Cold Ones could be moved about, and the Horned ones brought into the city.

Khaxilitli remembered Zlatlan as it had been before the Great Catastrophe, though they had been only newly spawned in that age, a shiny city of soaring pyramids and the loud clamor of industry which rang out into even the jungle beyond. In those days a Saurus might petition for the right to lead a patrol out far beyond the regular routes. Now it could barely be justified. And even such a patrol did not reach the distances it would have then.

Thrice had Khaxilitli led similar patrols in the last decades since their return to the city, twice north into the same terrain Huatza-Botl had once surveyed and another time east to the foot of the mountains. At last the orders had come to head south and west though only just past the Yuatek river in the case of the former.

Loqtli was to meet them a few days south of Zlatlan, swinging wide around the city and flushing out of the brush all manner of beasts to be snapped up by the regular patrols. At the Yuatek the Scar-Veterans were to see what manner of beasts inhabited the plains to the south that might be captured and bred for meat, leather, and other necessities.

But first they must head northwest and see the state of the Guardian Statues that served to control the Bay of Stars along with Nahuantl across the waters.

Action Incomplete

Hunting Parties: 2 dice, Loqtli

29, 30, 40

3 Successes! 1 at 40!

Total: 3

Domestication Opportunity - Ostriches, South of Yuatek River

It was a careful balance, not to exhaust the supply of game in the jungle surrounding Zlatlan while still providing enough fresh meat to keep from needing to cull any of the precious war beasts. Requiring careful balancing by Skink Chiefs so that the patrols knew to hunt only this creature or that bird for the next span of years.

Whenever the patrol routes swung out wider from the city, something that happened with increasing frequency, Loqtli and his band of Horned One riders swept out into the deep jungle. Spreading like a net and then suddenly tightening in and flushing out every manner of creature to be felled by dart, blade, and spearpoint. Once the kills had been tallied and gathered a signal would be sent up and another team of Kroxigors led by their Skink handlers to ferry the haul back to the city.

On one such journey the force of riders headed further south rather than continuing on to follow the more regular patrols and at the ruins of a bunker collapsed in the Great Catastrophe met up with Khaxilitlie and their force. Together the small army then proceeded yet further south towards the Yuatek river which separated the sweeping southern plains from the heavy jungle of much of the rest of the continent to the west of the mountains.

They crossed the river nearly two weeks out from Zlatlan and then days later found the first break in the canopy that signalled the start of the transition. Another day passed before the roll of grasslands began to dominate the horizon, only broken up by the occasional dense splotch of jungle.

And then began the long hunt. The stealthiest of the Skinks went out, crawling through grasses to reach hilltops from which they could observe the life of the plains. Each day they reported to Loqtli and Khaxilitli on what they saw and it was much discussed the various benefits and drawbacks of each species.

Predatory carnivores were immediately ruled out - it would defeat the purpose - and many of the larger herbivores were also dismissed for being simply too large or too solitary.

In the end, after several weeks of observation only one seemed ultimately promising. Groups of a large, some standing taller than an unmounted Saurus with their necks fully extended, and apparently flightless bird. Lacking the natural weapons of some of the other large herbivores noted further out into the plains and seemingly preferring the denser vegetation on the outskirts of the jungle outcroppings, they struck an ideal balance.

Several were slaughtered and their eggs collected. Those were placed in special containers imbued with temporary talismans of preservation and stasis which would curb the development of the embryos within so that they could be raised in captivity.

It would not be enough to start a true breeding population, but the sample would allow the Slann to make the final judgement.

Action Completed

Cleansing Nahuantl 4 dice , 2 5th Spawning Slann, Huatza-Botl, Qu'Qu-Kor

30, 22, 75, 36, 4

5 Successes!

Total: 5

Loot Rolls
71, 80, 86

War Machinery
Artifact-Weapon
Artifact

Eight thousand Skinks plus three thousand Saurus is the muster for the cleansing of Nahuantl, not counting the attendants for the two Slann accompanying and the detachment of Temple-Guards lead by Qu'Qu-Kor sent along for their safety. A force the size of which has not been seen on the continent since the Catastrophe, not outside of the city itself. Zlatlan grows even quieter in the wake of its departure.

Chiccti and Tzahuan were their names, both of the Fifth Spawning. The only Slann besides Wik'keer'mal to set foot, metaphorically, outside of Zlatlan since the fall of their empire. They relished the chance to glimpse the changes wrought on the world through their own eyes even as they lamented the unfortunate purpose of their journey. That an actual Temple-City became tainted by the corruption of the enemy was only a further demonstration of the debased nature of the world.

All around them an enormous army marched, guided by the deft hands of Huatza-Botl along a route easily recalled though the ravages of time and apocalyptic war had rendered what had once been highways into little more than suggestions. Only the occasional stretch of paved brick overgrown by vines and pulled up by the winding roots of enormous trees remained to signal the extent of the former empire of the Lizardmen.

Eventually the army spied sight of Nahuantl in the distance, crumbling towers peaking over dense canopy as the peaks of pyramids rose as mountains behind them. Unlike Zlatlan the jungle never quite gave way to the city until the army was all but on top of it and its leading elements were marching up wide paved avenue leading into the city.

The eastern gate stood open. It's great stone doors were thrown open and shattered during the Catastrophe by a Bloodthirster of Khorne. Not that it would much if they were not, with the walls all around gaping open in piles of overgrown ruin and only a few lonely stretches and the bastions of some few towers still standing marginally intact.

Huatza-Botl marched their army on, past the crumbling edifices of Temples and the sunken ruins of barrios. Over uneven streets. Through gardens run wild.

Until at last they entered into the central plaza of Nahuantl and there were met by a small part of Saurus and Skinks, twenty and seventy-six in number, all that remained in the makeshift command center which had been set up at the foot of the dilapidated Temple of Chotec. The rest were scattered throughout the temple-city, monitoring various tainted sites or simply protecting the sacred places of the city.

All this was delivered to Huatza-Botl in a succinct report, which was then passed on through Skink attendants to Lords Chiccti and Tzahuan, before the Oldblood gestured off to the side.

But a moment later a particular Skink priest chittered out a single cry–

"Duty!"

– which was quickly taken up again and again across the assembled army by further priests and then chiefs and then the Saurus and Skinks themselves until it was not so much a series of cries but a torrent of sound which shattered the still silence of the city and sent great flocks of jungle birds shrieking into the sky. And as the cry receded into an echo of a memory the army sprang into motion, the great lockstep formations splintering into droplets of scaled flesh amongst a sea of swirling motion.

Only a small knot composed of the Slann, their Temple-Guard, Huatza-Botl, and their closest lieutenants and attendants remained in the plaza. Alongside the party that had greeted the army.

Nahuantl would be cleansed, but first it must be made safe for the hallowed Slann to work. Nothing would be left to chance or misfortune.

There were just under a score of sites within the city which needed cleansing, though all but a handful were nothing more than minor blights upon the sacred geometries of the city. Of those five, two were close to the city center in the Temples of Tzunki and Yuxa while the other three were spread between the one of the outer spawning pools and a stretch of wall on the northeastern corner of the city. For minor sites, the Slann in attendance estimated a rough timetable of two weeks to cleanse each with at least a month between each site in order to tailor the rituals. No estimate could be made for the major sites.

It was no concern of Huatza-Botl's how long the army stayed, they had been given a mission by Lord Wik'keer'mal to see Nahuantl utterly cleansed of taint and so would see it done. Hunting and foraging could supplement rations, and once the initial sweeps were concluded there were succificient forces that caravans could be sent back to retrieve additional supplies from Zlatlan if necessary.

So it began.

First the city was combed over thoroughly and beasts and mutants and minor daemons alike were ripped lifeless from whatever cracks or crevices they had managed to crawl into. Brush was cleared from each site.

Once a bare minimum of safety was ensured the Slann were guided to each minor site in turn, it having been judged better to wrap up the more numerous but less complex matters first. At each first a band of some two hundred Saurus, three Skink priests, and half a dozen chiefs would sweep through the site and once it was deemed still safe the Temple-Guard would set up a cordon around the areas of greatest taint.

Then Lord Chiccti and Lord Tzahuan would enter the site, with their personal Temple-Guards flanking them, and set about performing the ritual to cleanse it. Besides a few tainted vermin and half-formed daemons so minor a freshly spawned Skink could have wrestled them into submission nothing reacted at any of the smaller sites. All were completed without incident.

But when the Slann entered into the Temple of Tzunki to cleanse it, so suffused with the curdled magic of the realm of chaos was it that the very air of the place recoiled from their ordered flesh. And when the ritual began in earnest and the Slann slipped into trance the Temple itself gave out a scream before settling with a pained groan.

Scaled hands tightened on halberd grips and waited for some sign of threat. And waited.

For days they waited and nothing appeared out of the shifting incongruous shadows to threaten their charges, until at least one the sixth day from the start screaming cackles echoed from out of the depths of the Temple interior. And still nothing showed itself. Though for hours more the laughter continued to disturb the silence the Temple Guard cared not; their minds filled with none of the frights and terrors of lesser beings.

Had these daemons forgotten that? Or were they merely playing some maddening game whose strictures only neverborn could comprehend?

It mattered not, for at last they came, out of shadow and over stone shrieking lamentations and approbations to their dark god. Twisted things they were, of bare flesh and sickly protuberances, formed almost in a mockery of the itza'xa'khanx.

And for a moment or two they managed to dance clear of the blessed obstinate halberds and cross an eighth of the way into the room, but it was only a brief reprieve for them. Not an instant later the first two were smashed off their gnarled, talon tipped, feet and sent plummeting into the floor with a crash that split flesh and cracked bone. Into the silence that followed poured only the rising incantations of the Slann.

Six more waves of the creatures followed and then no more.

For six days.

Once that time had passed another such set of waves of the daemons crashed down on the Temple Guards. To similar effect. This pattern repeated until at last on the forty-second day, as the ritual neared its culmination the final wave showed itself; shaped in the same debased form of life and carrying a long weeping whip of flayed nerves and a barbed harpoon of bone, the daemon twisted between twin lashes from the Temple Guards by the entrance. Then struck out with its whip to stun the next three nearest.

Cackling with anticipation and giddy with sick excitement it's long forked tongue flicked out to taste a droplet of blood flying through the air before the daemon of excess hefted the harpoon. Rearing back, it took aim at Lord Chiccti and-

There was a sharp crack and crunch as the blunt edge of a halberd swung up and into the arm of the daemon. False blood sprayed out as unreal flesh pulped and parted, shimmering fractals of rainbow light that hung in the air.

It was only beginning to cry out in exultant pain when another swing took it in the back and sent it tumbling forward into the face of yet another halberd. That final blow ended whatever joy it might have experienced and sent it collapsing to the floor in a heap where it disintegrated into nothingness.

A moment later there was a surge of cleansing light, like the sunrise magnified and concentrated, that swept out from the Slann and enveloped the whole Temple. When it cleared it left only untainted stone and the harpoon laying gently on the floor, glyphs of the Old Ones glowing faintly along its surface.

Nahuantl's Temple of Tzunki was free of taint for the first time in an age.

Twice more this pattern repeated, though to lesser degrees.

In the Temple of Yuxa it was daemons dedicated to mindless slaughter that harried the efforts of Tzahuan and Chiccti, though again nothing of the altercations touched the Slann. Hulking masses of rage and bleeding muscle which ached to tear the hated magic out of the very air.

No final champion rose out of the mindless rush of bodies and screams for blood, only a greater press until all were banished in another wave of purifying light. When the taint upon the Temple of Yuxa cleared it left the Slann and their guards standing not upon mere stone but rather upon a surface of worked stone and bronze, on which the glyph of Yuxa shimmered brilliantly.

After a moment a circular section of the floor, with the glyph in the center, separated and began to turn slowly about in mid-air. Tzahuan, studying it for a moment, decided it was an artifact of the Old Ones rather than a part of the architecture of the temple and thus it must be transported with them on their return to Zlatlan so that it could not fall again into the hands of the enemy.

Amongst the polluted waters of the spawning pool the situation was… lesser. There were no daemons dedicated to any of the major dark gods to accost the efforts, simply mutated flesh striking out madly in blind attempts to end the source of its pain. When the purification was complete and the sacred waters ran once again clear, another treasure was discovered lying amidst the rubble and detritus clogging the pool.

Cracked and giving off only a dim inner glow, two Solar Engines could be made out. In short order they were hefted out and added to the list of things to be ferried back to Zlatlan at the end of their stay.

Which left only the loci of taint in the northeast. Two in close enough proximity that they were mutually reinforcing and likely to take as long as all three others combined to cleanse properly.

Worst yet the sources of the taint were located within collapsed sections of the walls, buried under enough rubble to make it impossible to excavate in good time and that meant it would be necessary to perform the ritual from without. Meaning in an open field. The number of hostile approaches multiplied untenably.

Yet the work must be done.

An optimal location was chosen, near to the walls but separated and equidistant from both loci and there were raised a variety of earthen fortifications and simple wooden structures using wood felled from the surrounding jungle. By all the standards of Lizardmen the fort was crude, with but a single buried chamber from which the Slann could cast their cleansing ritual and only two rings of ramparts.

Some pits were dug, and sharpened wooden stakes buried at the bottom. Logs were piled at the top of the berm where they could be rolled to stymy a charge, and last short wood palisades built to provide strategic cover. Five hundred Saurus and a thousand Skinks manned the outer works while at the center the Temple Guard held the top of the earthen bunker. Each entrance was sealed, with the Slann's escorts and Qu'Qu-Kor.

Then at last could the ritual begin.

And on the hour of its beginning so sounded a myriad of horns in the night and from out of the dense jungle brush came screaming a horde of hybrids and mutants riven with the maddening laughter of that dark god ever obsessed with pointless change. Pouring in through the gaps in Nahuantl's walls they charged the fortifications, heedless of any danger, and were cut down by a terrible rain of poison darts. Many felt the prick and kept running for a moment only to stumble and collapse into convulsions before they could reach the first line of Saurus.

For none of them wore any armor except bare skin, yet on they came wielding clubs and wooden spears, some of them seizing up the bodies of the fallen as shields and charging on. So it was that a trickle of them began to reach the first line and were brutally cut down.

Their blood fell to the earth and soaked into the dirt.

On and on they came, for hours and hours. And yet though the bodies fell one after another they did not pile, instead when one fell over another the bodies below seemed to sink into the earth and turn to dirt. Hours turned into days, and then days into weeks. Still the horde kept coming.

After the second day Skinks had been ordered to cease firing darts. Were it possible to tell one from another it might have been certain whether it was the same creatures returning time after time, bound into a moment of eternal battle by some fell magic, but alas the tide was too ceaseless for any close examination.

Huatza-Botl observed from the top of the berm and gestured to a nearby attendant, speaking only a single word.

"Horn."

Jumping into action, the attendant drew from their back a horn twice as large as their own head and setting it to their mouth blew on it; short, short, long, short.

More horns from around the city answered; long, short, long. Huatza-Botl grunted. Down below Saurus from the second circle moved up to relieve those of the first and one by one, in the space between the swings of clubs and spear thrusts, they exchanged places.

There was a part of the Oldblood that was pleased with the efficiency of their troops, how ably they slaughtered and ended the servants of the great enemy. Yet another part of them snarled at the display of capricious slaughter being enacted, for these were not the mindless manifestations of base instinct but souls twisted to dark purposes. Souls that might have once served the ends of the Old Ones.

It would be good to see this hallowed ground cleansed again and prove the worth of this one-sided slaughter. Which would soon become even more one-sided.

As if on cue, Huatza-Botl saw lines of Saurus appear beyond the tainted section of the crumbled walls to either sides of where the horde was coming from and with a cry they charged. The latest wave was caught at either end and crushed in moments. Yet more still emerged from the line of the jungle.

Now though the line of battle had moved back from the fortifications and as the last of those creatures which had made it to them were slain and the blood on the ground began to soak freshly into dirt at last the trickle seemed to slow. Over long minutes the constant stream finally began to let up, until it stopped altogether. After weeks and weeks of constant unending battle, the screams of the mad mixing with the roars and chitters of Saurus and Skink, there was only silence.

It lasted only two days.

Then just as suddenly as it had stopped the endless stream of bodies resumed, this time met further out at additional layers of earthenworks constructed in haste during the lull. And again the battle went on ceaselessly for weeks. Until it stopped again.

And started again two days after that.

It was too easy.

Exactly the sort of battle that Saurus excelled at, against an enemy who could do no more than occupy their attention and yet the climax of the ritual approached. A handful of days and it would be decided. And still there was no greater threat.

Huatza-Botl's scales itched.

On the morning of the last day a new horn sounded with the rising of the sun and out of the dawn sky came screaming kites of unreal flesh. At the same time the horde renewed its charge, and before the Oldbloods eyes some amongst it began to twist and change as a new power poured into them. Limbs elongated, eyes proliferated. Tongues lolled out of mouths that distended into gaping maws full of needle teeth as skin stretched and twisted and discoloured.

The flapping kites trailed shimmers of multicolored fire that fell in sheets and burned into scale with a ravenous hunger, only to be extinguished by the cries of priests. Yet this marked out those priests to whatever senses the blind creatures possessed and they swooped madly towards them. None found their targets, but they still exacted a toll.

Saurus died for the first time. In ones and twos, but they died all the same. Skinks too as they assailed the creatures with darts and drove themselves bodily in front of precious priests.

Those of the kites that died at least stayed dead, when the most twisted amongst the horde was slain they became instead two copies in miniature which had to be quickly dispatched lest they latch onto whatever was nearest and try to twist and tear it limb from limb.

In a scant four hours the sixth and fifth lines fell back behind the fourth and within an hour of that the fourth itself was on the verge of collapsing. By that time evening had begun to set and nwo the ground was not only littered with the blood of the servants of the enemy but of servants of the Old Ones as well.

As the sun set, and dusk settled another change overtook the field, and that same blood soaked ground heaved as a sickening crackle filled the air. Dirt soaked in countless drops of the profane blood of an undying, unliving, horde boiled in place.

Beside the Oldblood three priests chittered and raised their staffs high, trying desperately to reassert order and sense on disorder. And by the barest margins won.

The ground heaved and settled for a moment, long enough for Huatza-Botl to order back every living Lizardman behind the second line onto dirt which had never seen a drop of magic soaked blood. In precise motions, the lines of Saurus pulled back. Though even then some were pulled bodily over fortifications by long grasping limbs and wretched apart in sprays of blood and gore by cackling, screeching monstrosities.

Seconds ticked by as the sorcerous workings of an unseen hand wrestled against the focus of the three priests mightily. With each that passed more Saurus and Skinks made it behind the second circle.

It was almost enough to fully regroup, but as the last fifteen percent worked to get themselves behind the earthen berm, the strength of the priests gave out. Two were bodily flunch back with enough force that they bowled over the Temple Guards behind them, while the third…

Their eyes boiled and burst in their sockets, the scales about their hand cracked and blackened and then began to peel away to the bone, but they simply raised their staff higher and chittered louder the words of power. Then with a final croaking cry, their eyes now pits of smoke and the flesh of their arms naught but char, they burst into ash and blackened bone.

And yet though the dirt beyond the second line continued to bubble and smoke it did not boil. But then began to battle in earnest. It raged on through the night, which lasted eight hours, then twelf, then sixteen. Cackling horrors clambered over earthen works, ignored slashes and stabs to grapple at Saurus and Skinks rained darts down on the seemingly endless horde.

It went on and on and on and on and on and on and on an-

With a heave the bunker cracked and the warm light of day poured out like a wave; sweeping before it the gibbering insanities and buckling the shackled chattel bound by curse, madly roiling soil settled, and screaming creatures fell twitching to the earth below before unravelling. Then the wave reached the tainted stretch of wall and there was a sound like the sky splitting and the stars falling and a dream long held denied at the last moment.

And like a dam that has been stopped up with the final plug pulled free, what had been a trickle became a flood as the pent up energy of the Geomantic Web onto which the taint of the dark gods had latched exploded free and sought out old paths. Sweeping along before it, probing spirits back into their chambers with a jolt.

Dawn broke.

Action Completed. Heavy Casualties! Gain Asset: Solar Engines x2 - Damaged. Disc of Yuxa. Gain Equipment: Leviathan-Bone Harpoon.

Effects: Hybrid Melee/Ranged Weapon. Bonuses against enemies larger than Character. When at sea minor control over water.

A Glut of Geomantic Energy flows from Nahuantl - temporary 1 turn boost of +5 after all rolls and calculations to Alertness next turn.

Clearing Rubble (Forge Districts): 1 die, Xilotl

58, Auto, Auto

1 Success! +2 Auto

Total: 3

Amidst the time allotted for their regular duties Xilotl also took personal charge of the efforts to begin clearing the forge districts free of the debris and detritus that had buried them during the Great Catastrophe.

Boulders were pulled free from the entrances to smithies. Collapsed roofs were cleared away and the interiors of smelteries and storehouses exposed to sunlight for the first time since they were built. There was no ringing of hammers, nor the sizzle of quenching metal. Not one of the workshops could be reopened for work, it was more than rubble that needed clearing away - magic enchantments and subtle alignments that empowered the furnaces and pulled away choking smoke also needed to be repaired.

It was a beginning though.

Action Incomplete - 5 Successes Remain

Clearing Rubble (Temple of Chotec): 1 die, Awanabil'tat

72, Auto, Auto

1 Success! +2 Auto

Total: 3

Awanabil'tat had spent the last century in heavy study of the sacred geometries of Zlatlan and all its intact Temples, only diverting for a few years to examine the decaying remains of the bunkers which the Oldblood Hutza-Botl had made use of, and now at last he had the opportunity to put that knowledge to use. Not for new construction, with half the city in near ruins such efforts could hardly even be contemplated, but in the restoration of some of the defunct Temples.

Every Temple-City across the continent, and even in those beyond in Lustria, there had stood a Temple of Chotec which was aligned with the rising and setting of the sun. It drew in sacred energies and fed them into the mystic structures of the Geomantic Web. Chotec was not chief among the Old Ones, but his was the temple always first built within a new city; after all it was warmth and animating energy of the sun which invigorated the life of every Lizardman.

That his temple could not be accessed was a psychic wound upon the geomantic structure of the city, choking off one of the vital flows of energy, and so throughout the span of the century Awanabil'tat set about organizing what free labor he could to rectify the issue. By its end, he had all the major chambers, vaults, and corridors free of obstruction and repaired.

Only a few side chambers need still be brought into rights.

Action Incomplete - 1 Success Remains

Unsealing Minor Entrances: 6 dice

62, 65, 25, 72, 90, 89

6 Successes

Total: 6

As the first patrols of the century went out so too went out teams of Skinks and Kroxigor, the latter lowered over the side of the walls by pulley systems. Some trudged off into the jungle to follow patrols at a distance and ferry back the results of their hunting, but the majority stayed behind to at last clear out all the sally ports, minor gates, and posterns which had been sealed over the years of the Great Catastrophe.

Most had simply been filled in with brick and mortar, creating a plug, and thus could be broken with the simple application of force. Carefully managed of course to incur no damage to the surrounding structure.

Others though had needed to be layered over with enchantments and minor wardings where tenacious daemons had attempted more subtle incursions. Some done in haste had decayed in the ages since. But many needed to be carefully dissected, in some cases by the very priests which had first placed them, to avoid dangerous feedback which could kill or injure the work parties or damage the surrounding structure.

Neither was an acceptable consequence.

It took the better part of three decades to complete the work, as priests were called away to other duties or work parties needed for upkeep of other elements, but completed it was.

Kroxigors could once again sally out from the walls without needed to be lowered by crane, and when the Lords Tzahuan and Chiccti returned from Nahuantl they need not suffer the indignity of being hefted the same way or being forced to circle the city to enter by the western gate. Cold Ones could also be ridden out again from their pens within the city and the Horned Ones finally brought in to find succor and rest within.

Action Completed. Lowered DC's for various actions.

Pool Work: 4 dice

14, 82, 31, 31

1 Success!

Total: 1

Work on the spawning pools continued, though its pace was much reduced from the last few decades of the previous century. And the efforts were plagued by misfortune and setbacks.

The two pools whose bottoms had collapsed could not be immediately repaired and there did not remain enough debris to repeat the method of repairs which had been so successful before. Fresh stone needed to be brought in, which was only possible in sufficient quantities once the minor entrances of the walls were completed.

Not one of the five remaining pools was restored, still progress was made. slowly .

Action Incomplete - 1 Success Remains on 1 Pool. 5 Pools Remain

Reseeding the Pastures: 4 dice, Tehe'tenq

98, 99, 1, 6, 3

2 Successes! 1 Natural Critical! +1 Success! Critical Fail! -1 Success

Total: 2

Seeding the pastures for the Bastiladon and Stegadon was Tehe'Tenq's first test of sole leadership as an attendant to Lord Wik'keer'mal.

It went nearly perfectly.

With the minor gates open again he was able to bring out full work teams, with Kroxigor hefting enormous axes fit to cut through the wide trunks of jungle trees in two swings. And though the fencing that had once marked the boundaries of the pasture was since long gone, the records of their locations had survived intact. So locating the proper terrain was a simple matter of finding the old pasture and clearing out excess growth.

Stegadon and Bastiladon both were not creatures of the deep jungle, though they could maneuver through it at need and neither were they capable of subsisting solely on grasses. Combined, their bulk and need for more substantial vegetation meant they were more suited to the edges of the jungle and forests with heavier undergrowth.

Once the former pastures had been located the oldest trees were felled and youngest left in place, then flowering bushes brought in and denser leafy ferns transplanted from the gardens of Zlatlan and carefully cultivated over the course of a decade. With a steady diet thus ensured the wood from the toppled trees was used to begin construction of a new fence.

Not a literal fence, but rather a series of enchanted totems which the beasts would, from ancient manipulations made to their essence, recognize and turn back from. And of course work was then started on clearing paths to the next pasture over.

But when work began in the new location disaster struck. Almost as soon as the first tree was struck the ground shuddered and sunk. For a moment the world stood still and Tehe'Tenq thought perhaps that was the extent of it, but then the ground began to crumble away.

The team of Kroxigor and their Skink handler barely made it free of the sinkhole.

It simply kept collapsing, expanding further and further into what had been intended to be pasture lands, it covered only a tiny portion in total of the area, but it brought work to a complete halt. All of the other work teams were pulled back into the city and Tehe'Tenq hurried to the temple to hold conference with some of the other attendants.

Two incidents of collapsing in the span of less than a hundred years was no small concern.

It was fortunate that the beasts themselves had not yet been moved to any of the pasture grounds, owing to the state of the gates and the impossibility of moving them in any number.

First Stage Completed. Status of Bastiladon and Stegadon Improves. Efficiency Improvements Locked by State of Gates

Action Incomplete - 4 Successes Remain

Tehe'Tenq gains +1 Dice to Animal Husbandry actions

Opening the Seas: 5 dice, Xetzaihl

79, 48, 48, 4, 54, Auto, Auto

4 Successes! +2 Auto

Total: 6

Zlatlan's western gate opened early in the century to spew forth a stream of Skinks while Kroxigor were lowered over the wall by cranes, their considerable bulks straining the wooden constructs as they dangled from rope slings. Once the host was all standing under their own power upon the ground again Xehtzaihl called them to order. And thus they set off to the west.

They were escorted part way by the patrols led by Khaxilitli heading north towards the Guardian Statues, but quickly parted ways as Xehtzaihl and their troops turned back east to scour the coast for suitable locations for a fortified port.

Sheltered inlets, coastal hills, cliffside promontories, all were surveyed and considered. Their benefits, difficulties, and weaknesses weighed methodically over the course of decades of back and forth travel. Plumb lines were cast out to test the waters immediately in each area. Then Teams of Skinks and Korixgor swam out to survey the condition of the bed.

Careful records were kept of each site. Measurements taken, a first step in charting the immediate waters around Zlatlan's half of the Bay of Stars no matter which site was taken, and some handfuls of trees felled to test the quality of the local wood.

Eventually an inlet with a jut of rock to one side was chosen, just two days from the west gate of the city, and work began. In short order a wooden fort rose with a small meandering path to the beach and the first pylons were driven into the sand and the first planks of a small dock laid.

Rafts were built and more pylons driven into the seabed deeper into the water. The docks expanded. Palisades encircled both the fort and the dock and two wooden barracks adjoined at either end, Saurus came from Zlatlan to take up watch, and towers rose at regular intervals. Stone was quarried from sites farther inland and the fort expanded and grew upwards.

A stairway was carved into the rocky outcropping and more pylons driven into the water. More docks. Small fishing boats went out daily and loads of fresh fish travelled out of the simple wooden gates in barrels of brine along with clams and crabs.

Eventually the wooden palisades turned into low stone walls and the docks expanded once again. The first hulls were laid down in the growing harbor, a pair of coastal monitors with great fanning sails.

Action Completed. Cold One, and Horned Ones conditions improve to Stabilizing! Shipbuilding options available.

Error Checking: 6 5th Spawning Slann dice

50, 20, 3 10, 23, 52, 22

2 Successes!

Total: 2

While the Lizardmen had suffered the brunt of the focus from the forces of the great enemy during the Great Catastrophe, it had not been the Slann who finally swung the mystical balance back towards order.

That had been done by the itza'ka'khanx, using the waystones of their floating paradise to siphon away the great tsunami of magic; grounding it into the very bedrock of the isle. Unbeknownst to any on that fair isle the Slann had leant their aid to the work though. For the waystone were but pale imitations of the great standing stones and obelisks that the Old Ones had laid down at the ordering of the world, and by tying the two together an even greater portion of the latent magic could be guided safely on.

But the work had been done more in haste than in caution and during the centuries since it had… not failed, but faltered slightly. The great false moon had slipped inexorably closer as like magic called to like magic and its waxing power had begun to fall more steadily on the world.

It could not be stopped, not fully. But with readjustments the tides of malignant power could be diverted. Like a great stone laid in a river creating a small eddy of slowed water in its wake.

They were not rituals, for without direct access to the places in question it would be all but impossible for even the Slann to reach across such distances and unlike in Lustria too few of the Temple-Cities of the Southlands had fallen to count on the direct possession of such obelisks. Rather it was more akin to grasping a rope and tugging on it in just the right way, with just the right amount of force to pull a distant unseen mechanism in precisely the right alignment. When the issue had been first noticed the calculation had all been precisely done. Derived from stellar observations and careful reading of select plaques in the Sequence, and their own vast understanding of mystical superstructures.

But even the Slann were not all knowing, it had to be admitted. And much had changed even in the short span of time since those calculations had been made. Moreover, owing to distance and the difficulty of communicating, the plaques used had been those across the ocean.

Sequences which were not complete. Zlatlan's was.

So when the group of Slann gathered together in a chamber atop the Temple of Uxmac to meditate the matter, it was expected some small miscalculations would be found. And some were. Slight misalignments that while not disastrous, were suboptimal. Easily correctable, at least where they were accessible at all.

Towards the end of the third decade of their meditations though, the Slann were startled from their peace by the shock of their discovery. Not a small misalignment, but an entirely mistaken calculation - an effort which would result in precisely the opposite of the desired outcome, not easing the path of magic but stoppering it. The error was corrected quickly.

But the question remained, how many more were there? And had the issue been noticed by their counterparts across the ocean?

The time of the false moon's closest approach loomed, after which it was in question whether correcting the misalignments would even be possible or whether their effects on the world would already be too far gone.

Action Incomplete - 3 Successes Remain

Improved Pipes: 1 4th Spawning Slann die

37

1 Success!
Total: 1

Without the appropriate infrastructure there was a limit to what could be done to improve the blowpipes, at a purely practical level they remained devices driven primarily by the lungs of the Skink firing them. There were simply upper physical limits to the amount of air that could be driven down the pipe and the force it could impart. And the method meant that there was also a limit on the heaviness of the missiles which could be launched, other solutions would be necessary.

Still, even with the limited capabilities Zlatlan was currently restricted to. A slight extension of the pipe and subtle alterations to the mouthpiece to improve the seal. Plus some minor shifting of flight feathers on the darts. It all resulted in a slightly longer range and better penetration. Marginally.

Though in the right hands and claws those advantages could become absurd; given to a Chameleon Skink the same blowpipe could launch a dart of pellet at nearly twice the range while still maintaining maximum penetrating power. At least up to the relative maximum range of a regular Skink.

In a demonstration, the eldest of the Chameleon Skinks in Zlatlan, one Hua'Ximni, ordered that the target be dressed in sheets of metal like those worn by the corrupted cho'mundi'khanx during the Great Catastrophe. Then they climbed to the top of a nearby pyramid.

With a brief tinny shriek of metal, a splotch of red stained the stone floor beneath.

The dart had pierced completely through the crude facsimile of armor and dug deep into the dense mat of dried grasses serving as the target, bursting the skin full of dyed water hidden within.

Action Completed. Improved Blowpipes. Significant increase to deadliness of Chameleon Skinks.

Javelins Too: 2 5th Spawning Slann dice

14, 33

2 Successes!

Total: 2

In contrast, the matter of improving the range and penetrating power of javelins was almost simple.

At least in principle.

Some minor difficulties entered into the equation when it came to educating the Skinks and even Saurus charged with using the new devices, but those were overcome in time.

The devices themselves were the epitome of simplicity; a half tube blocked at one end to act as a stop for the blunt end of the javelin. Gripped in the throwing hand at the end of the tube farthest from the closed end, the normal throwing motion meant that the tube acted as an extension of the arm. More force was then imparted into each throw, though the act of loading each javelin did slow the rate of fire.

It was only a second or two per Skink, but with a whole cohort launching that difference would tell. Extra penetrating power compensated for that, allowing a javelin to pierce heavier armor at moderate ranges.

Action Completed

A Greater Trickle: 5 4th Spawning Slann dice, 1 5th Spawning Slann die

83, 13 20, 38, 70, 42, 48

2 Successes!

Total: 2

It was fundamentally a problem of a lack of sufficient time. Too many of the artisan-priests needed to produce proper obsinite weapons through the arcane rituals that fashioned the superb material from the common dross of the world had urgent duties elsewhere.

Maintaining failing mechanisms in the gates, or ensuring no more temples fell into disrepair. Nor was keeping the irrigation which feeds the city functioning a task that couldbe left to falter. A thousand and one duties awaited every Skink of Zlatlan.

Even when one of the artisan-priests could find time to spare, the Slann assigned to the task found they did not have an organized workplace in which to conduct such efforts. Both the forge districts and assembly yards lay in ruins. Instead they could only work out of ad hoc spaces, with tools only barely suited to the task.

Perhaps if the various schedules could be synchronized, at least it would be possible for whole groups of artisan priests to gather together and craft the necessary materials in job lots. Alas the Slann simply could not find the precise arrangement of details to bring it about in more than ones and twos. Hardly an improvement.

Not yet at least.

Action Incomplete - 1 Success Remains

A Disciplined Mind: 10 5th Spawning Slann dice

80, 38, 61, 59, 77, 90, 89, 94, 25, 35

4 Successes!

Total: 4

The sublime communion of Zlatlan was not to be denied, a scant few years ago it had been; as the culmination of years of persistent study had slipped from the grasps of the gathered Slann, their minds tumbling one after another into deeper and deeper slumber. Dragged into weary languor by confusing and disparate memories, by brief glimpses of never-weres and awful futures.

But the Slann refused to know defeat and so at the dawn of the new century, as the great works of the coming decades were prepared for, a small group of the Fifth Spawning, five in total, came together and set their minds to the task once again. In a chamber atop the still standing Temple of Uxmac the five gathered and arrayed themselves such that their minds flowed as one to another with nary but the slightest inclination. And not even their chief attendants were allowed within so deep were their contemplations.

Months on end they stayed. And if it had been years none in Zlatlan would have thought it odd, but on one shining day a month from the end of the calendar their myriad minds at last pierced past the veil of confusion and shattered time.

For but an instant the heavens split open and for all five it was as if the Great Catastrophe had never been - their minds were once again quicksilver things full of vitality and life - and then it was over. Reality reasserted itself as it always must. Cloying weakness crawled back into hale limbs and sapped luminous eyes of their rainbow luster, but not completely. A measure of their old strength remained with them.

This was the truth they had learned.

When the Polar Gates had collapsed the very skein of reality had been rent asunder, this the Slann knew, but what none amongst their number had ever guessed was that the fundamental reality of that truth had been more sudden and immediate than they had known. Could have known. Even the Slann are subject to the limitations of the temporal, acausality the sole domain of the great enemy.

But for one eternal, infinite, collapsing moment the whole of the world had been plunged headlong into the twisting eddies and whirls of the realm of chaos. Time thus ceased its orderly procession. Slann lived and died casting down princeling powers, Temple-Cities fell and rose again to spew forth countless legions to sweep away the tide of daemonic flesh. Jungles turned to ashen graveyards then to glassy desserts before sprouting full of life again. Seas boiled, salt-water transmuting briefly into blood and bile, then froze into shivering wastes across which the wind blew the screams of damned.

And for as long as it lasted it was over in an instant, the world passing out again from the realm of chaos and back into ordered reality.

For the lesser minds and souls of the world the only way out was through. In mountain halls and in ever bountiful fields they looked out on a broken mad world and made sense of it - transforming abhorrent incongruity into myth and legend - thus was the world righted.

But for Slann, who could behold the intricate details of the world with ease and whose very souls rejected all suggestions of ignorance the same was impossible. At least, not without a cost. The lethargy which afflicted them kept the Slann from utterly breaking.

In glimpsing this truth the five gained a small measure of their control back, it remained only to spread it to the other Slann of Zlatlan...

Action Completed. Affliction of Lethargy Reduced! Roll one less d10 at each Turn to determine action dice! Slann more likely to be awake!

Rollover applied to Tracing the Web and A Greater Trickle

+1 Rollover

Total: 3

Hixha'zaq practically burned with energy, the weight of their discovery pressed heavily on his mind, but less so than the burden of his weariness had not but hours before. He no longer felt newly spawned, but there was still that thrumming eagerness within him.

In the wake of that he turned his mind again to the conundrum of how to wring out that last bit of production from the artisan priests. The pattern came to him in a shining moment of clarity in the aftermath of their study and though still it required bringing together with previous insights, it was a certainty. Come the end of the century, once the new timetable of schedules had properly disseminated, there would be a greater trickle of proper obsinite weapons making its way into the hands of Lizardmen all across Zlatlan.

Action Completed

Plant Investigations - Red Berries: 2 3rd Spawning Slann die, 1 personal die

10 30, 61, Auto, Auto

2 Successes! +2 Auto

Total: 4

Wik'keer'mal observed the branch before him; long and thin, with a light tan color and a slightly puckered exterior, its dark green leaves were arrayed sparsely up and down the branch. Heavy bunches of bright red fruits clustered between the leaves, dragging the limb down with their weight.

To his right another Slann of the Third Spawning, Memre-Xoq, sat examining a similar branch, those this one was overflowing with small white flowers rather than abundant berries.

"There is an enticing perfume about the flower, an invigorating scent," the other Slann observed telepathically.

Wik'keer'mal agreed. Since the samples had been brought in in fact the bees of his hive, all five separate species, had been especially active visiting the flowers frequently and with purpose.

He plucked a fruit from the branch with his mind and held it aloft, then with a single minded drive and precision he proceeded to pull the fruit apart. First peeling pack the thin outer skin until it was a delicate curl of flesh, then separating out the pulp in a split mass from which he carefully extracted the seeds. There was the scent again, fainter than from the flowers but still enough to attract investigatory flybys from his bees.

"Significant percentage of pit to flesh. Though pits likely edible by larger herbivores."

With so little flesh why then did animals in the wild consume the fruits? It might be a chemical component to which the biology of Lizardmen were not susceptible, some manner of attractant.

Potentially useful for trapping and lures.

"Low moisture content," he said, then with a flick of his eyes the separated components of the fruit all went up in flames.

From those flames, and with the aid of another spell, Wik'keer'mal was able to discern the broad chemical composition of the fruit, mostly sugars and acids and the regular components of any living plant. Some few unknown trace elements, and something present throughout the fruit but over present within the seeds which he did not recognize.

He plucked another berry and this time with a wave of his hand it decomposed. Not as in the normal process of decay and rot, but as in the very matter of its form unraveled into the raw potential of the fruit.

It was a supreme display of raw arcane might and the supreme control and control a Slann could achieve, to briefly expose something of the physical world to the depths of the realm of chaos safely and thereby unmake - drawing out sympathetic condensations of the winds which most resonated.

Ghyran of course predominated, this was a living thing only barely removed from the full of tis life by the process of cutting. Still that meant a tracery of Shyish followed as the cells of the plants began the slow march to death.

More interesting was the core of Aqshy which nestled within the Ghyran and winding through the red wind like a thread of shadow and mist, the barest hint of Ulgu.

Life, containing a seed of illusionary passion. Interesting.

Action Completed. Gain Red Berry Plantations Stewardship Action. Will produce Red Berry Juice - Minor reduction to lethargy amongst Slann. Gain Seed Tea Roasting Stewardship Action. Will Produce Seed Tea - Minor reduction to lethargy amongst Slann

Tracing the Web: 2 4th Spawning Slann dice

76, 4 20

2 Successes! +2 Rollover

Total: 4

Nahuantl - N/A
Cuexotl - 47, Result O
+2 Successes >40
Tlaqua - 8, Result P!(D)
Golden Tower of the Gods - 79, Result Q

As Huatza-Botl and their great host marched away from Zlatlan two Slann settled comfortably upon the palanquins met within the depths of Temple of Tzunki. Each was of the Fourth Spawning and had directly participated in separating the Southlands from Lustria, they had felt the Geomantic Web stretched across the ocean personally.

They were mighty in spirit and adept at casting themselves free of their flesh to ply the invisible currents of the Web without becoming lost.

Mextlep was mighty in the wind of light and having come from Tlanxla to the Golden Tower of the Gods he was eager to see perhaps what had become of the small temple-city, though truthfully it was more of an outpost than a true city. He was joined in the effort by Udhi-Tegha, a noted specialist in manipulating the energies of the Geomantic Web to the woe of the enemies of the Lizardmen. Before the Great Catastrophe he had resided in Cuexotl.

Though only briefly.

Together they entered into a deep meditative trance and slipped free of the bonds of the body. Within the protective safety of the confines of Zlatlan their spirits were as light as clouds and danced as freely and easily as birds do, soaring through the reflected impression of the city upon the energies of the web.

It was a series of peaks and valleys, troughs and ridges that formed an enormous n-dimensional glyph. This glyph was the true power of the city and how even in its shattered state a temple-city like Zlatlan could form the nexus of a tenuous Geomantic Web, how even the utterly ruined cities elsewhere on the continent continued to feed dribs and drabs of power to the city. They imposed order upon the chaotic ambient energy that even before the Catastrophe had suffused the world. Even daemons in the realm of chaos could feel the shadow of its power.

Udhi-Tegha took the first metaphysical step beyond Zlatlan, following the flow of power until he touched a thread of power that resonated with the shape of Nahuantl. He called out to Mextlep and so great was their anticipation that they almost raced down that thread heedless, but even a Slann in the throws of wild exultation was a creature of extreme mental might. They stayed themselves and followed slowly.

Nahuantl was tainted. Caution was advised.

So each day they tested that thread of power a little more, following it out across the bay until the glyph the the city could be made out.

As spirits they could see the reflection of the worldly taint as scrabous cancers of shadow and wriggling rainbow mold on the mystic structure of the city-glyph, and could do nothing for it.

Taints and corruptions of all ilks were things of the physical world, insidious infestations of single-minded idiot gods. If they were to be rooted it must be done from the world itself, though some aid could be given if it were needed.

But for the time being, having ascertained some semblance of the state of the city, the two Slann returned back along the same route they had followed before and returned to Zlatlan and their bodies. After an intermission of a few months to rest and recollect their energies, Udhi-Tegha and Mextlep returned to the chamber and prepared for their next journey.

Casting themselves free again of fleshy confines they soared again into that shimmer otherworld and this time found the thread which resonated with the shape of the temple-city of Cuexotl. Following that thread they, after time out of time, came at last to see the shining glyph shape of the city and in beholding it saw that it was well.

Not nearly so whole and vibrant as that of Zlatlan but wholly lacking any sign of taint. Perhaps word at the edges and with unfamiliar twist and curls in its architecture in places, but not dangerously distorted. Yet at least.

After some further explorations the two fled back again to their bodies and breathed out relief.

They turned their attention again to Nahuantl, and saw the reflections of the cleansing upon the city-glyph and were heartened and carried back news of the success to the Zlatlan.

Mextlep and Udhi-Tegha were meditating on the journeys they had undertaken when the form of Kori of the Fifth Spawning disturbed their thoughts. The younger Slann all but chattered at them excitedly, his hands actually twitched as he met their eyes so great was his excitement.

"Brothers, our meditations have borne fruit at last, and now some small fraction of the cause of torpor which has waylaid us these last centuries is laid before for us."

Udhi-Tegha hummed, and answered, "Welcome news. Share with us the manner of this malady."

"Impart to us the cause of this illness," agreed Mextlep.

He showed them and the shock of it, the sudden burning memory of boundless energy, invigorated as they had almost never been.

Almost immediately the two Slann set about launching themselves upon another expedition of the spirit. Flying first to Cuexotl and then from there following the thread which rang out the shape of the Golden Tower of the Gods, they found that place much the same as Cuexotl had been. Except lacking even the slight perturbations that had wrought themselves upon the other city.

For all the ages that had passed since its abandonment it seemed to have escaped without injury or disturbance. Not at least any that had affected its mystical structure.

Glad tidings to bring back to Zlatlan, but there was still another temple-city the two felt they could reach safely. Tlaqua lay far to the north in the world, through endless tracks of jungle, near to the Deaths-Head Monuments which had been laid down during the ordering of the world to serve as a locus for the energies of Shyish.

Racing back to Cuexotl they sought out the thread of power which resonated with their memories of Tlaqua and followed it over endless featureless plains of an invisible world until at last the city-glyph began to form on the horizon.

But even from the first glimpse a creeping dread filled them, for if Nahuantl had been touched by taint then Tlaqua was utterly overcome with it. The structure of the glyph was utterly obscured under the sickening parasitic distortions. Mad laughter and enraged screeches reached their fleshless ears and they dared not approach any closer and soon retreated back whence they had come, carrying ill tidings.

Just as one trial had been concluded, another greater one loomed.

2 Stages Complete. Action Incomplete

Examining the Wards: 10 5th Spawning Slann dice

96, 62, 18, 61, 78, 56, 24, 17, 24, 35

4 Successes!

Total: 4

Towards the beginning of the century several of the Slann went down into the city to inspect the wards worked into the outer wall, for months they traveled back and forth along the length of the fortifications. Sometimes meeting in twos or threes they poured all their attention on the matter. Priests were set out of the city to report on the conditions of the exterior, presenting their memories easily to the assembled Slann.

Every available brick was inspected, each individual glyph scrutinized in exacting detail.

Surely some flaw or misalignment caused by the Great Catastrophe, or some mistake in the repairs from an overeager Skink was at the root of the weakness. But no matter how long they searched the Slann could not discern any defect or fault within the wards themselves, they were intact.

Lesser than they had been before the disaster, but that was inevitable when the infrastructure of Zlatlan itself had fallen so low.

It was a matter of some frustration to the gathered Slann when they at last left their inspection of the walls and returned into their temple chambers to ponder the matter more deeply. For two years they poured over the problem, exchanging thoughts and insights as easily as other beings breathed. Until at last the nature of the problem revealed itself in the subtle fluctuations of the energy of the Geomantic Web flowing into the wards.

It was not some unseen flaw or fault which was impeding the function of the wards, they were working entirely as intended.

Something was straining the wards ability to protect the city, like a splinter caught beneath a scale that foreign body inflamed the wards and drew on their power to contain. Btu they could not.

Again the Slann went out, scattering to the corners of the city and in a ritual which took many months, bolstered the wards, pouring their own spirits and mystical might into those ancient protections. For a brief moment at the end the very walls of Zlatlan glowed with the warm light of the noonday sun. When the light faded there could be heard a great psychic cry from the southern gate.

Thus at last the truth of the matter was revealed in full.

Action Completed. Wards Intact. Something is trapped within the sealed southern gate

Note: Because of various synergies, and some rolls (high and low!) what was going to be a fairly simple section in the Cleansing Expedition instead became a whole thing.

Lots of new fun options for you guys next turn.

CuttleFish2.0 · Jun 4, 2020

Bird cries echoed in the early morning air, the sharp musical sounds greeting the brightening skyline with a strident confidence. Wik'keer'mal looked west; his eyes seeing past the still crumbling edifices of Zlatlan's various temples, past the toppled towers sitting atop heavy walls, past the dense line of the jungle beyond and into the deep blue expanse of the ocean. Then past even that to a country now only possibly for him to visit in memory.

Slann were creatures of the mind prone to long mental digressions and carefully thought out plans.

It was at times painfully easy for one such as he to become stuck in that other country, which none ever resided in, but only ever visited, called the past — more so now than ever, for in memory and recollection the empire of the Lizardmen was not a shambing broken thing, but a glorious symbol to all the world. What the Old Ones wrought had seemed invincible in those days, unshakeable down to the foundations, infallible and inevitable.

He wondered if it was still easy to be so foolish from the shores of Lustria? Surrounded by so many temple-cities which yet still stood. Or more difficult? Reminded everyday of failure by the multitude of ruins wrought from the Catastrophe.

Did the thought of error and miscalculation enter into his head because Zlatlan was far from the glories and heights of his people, or was it simply an inevitable question to ask in the ashes of bare survival.

The false moon had loomed high the night before. Its size increased day by day, nearly imperceptibly, but all the same.

It would likely grow to its greatest size sometime near the end of the century and cast its malignant light across the surface of the world, bringing ruin and disaster wherever it fell. Even the greatest efforts of the whole of the Sublime Communion would not be enough to prevent it in its entirety. Only blunt it.

Alas, without any line of communication he could not know if the whole of the might of Slann would be turned to the conundrum correctly. He only knew what his own small Communion could do. It would not be enough.

Perhaps it would have to be.

Turn 3
Nahuantl Cleansed! +6 Dice!
You have 40 Dice Available!

(30 + (70 - 32) = 68/2 = 34) + 6

See Misc. for available character dice. Only one character per action unless otherwise stated.

To assigned a character to an action format it like this:

[-] Action: # Dice, Character

Random Event! Delicate wooden ships have been spotted making landfall up and down the coast in the last few years! Their sails resembling those Skink scouts report having seen off on the horizon, have the itza'xa'khanx left the safety of their island home? Or is this yet another mystery the Slann must unravel?

Red Berries renamed to Aziki!

Large Flightless Birds named Nuum!

Martial: Huatza-Botl has taken able charge of your forces, and his success in the expedition to Nahuantl has revealed a matter most dire in time for it to be dealt with. The world is, for the time being, still quiescent. Though the Great Warding continues to strain as work continues on your (and presumably those of the Slann across the ocean) efforts to bolster it. What will happen when that work completes is as of yet uncertain.

Long-Range Patrols: With the patrols of the immediate environs seen to and with the knowledge of more distant terrain from Huatza-Botl's forces some progress has been made mapping and regularizing longer ranging patrols. There still remained much to ensure Zlatlan was not blind to anything more than a week's travel away.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Gain a slow trickle of information on activity in your general vicinity, and knowledge of the state of more distant outer defences.

Egg Hunt: Sufficient number of eggs were recovered by your patrols for a suitable breeding population of the Nuum, the name you have chosen for the birds recently discovered, to be established. Seeking out more eggs would accelerate the process.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 3. Reward: Lower DC of Raising a Clutch.

Expedition to [Write-in]: The other Temple-Cities stand all but empty, only garrisons even smaller than your own safeguarding them. But that does not mean they hold nothing of value nor that you should abandon them. Though your explorations via the Geomantic Web have revealed some of their state it is still necessary to send expeditions to ascertain the details of their condition.

Choose from:

- Cuexotl

- Golden Tower of the Gods

~~- Tlaqua~~

- Teotiqua

- Temple-Avenue of Gold

- Temple of Skulls

Note: Will lock in dice used for a variable amount of time depending on rolls and Temple-City chosen.

DC: ??? Successes Needed: ???. Limit: 2. Reward: Knowledge of other Temple-Cities, resources.

Tlaqua Subsumed: You have learned, through spiritual explorations by Slann of the Fourth Generation, that Tlaqua also stands tainted. Worse, the matter is even graver than it was in Nahuantl. The latter had only a few spots of corruption the former seems to have been overtaken. Exactly how rampant the daemon presence is you do not know, such visitations do not allow precise and detailed examinations of the physical world, and what is more without any fully repaired gates you cannot sally forth with any of your warbeasts. Still, perhaps haste is better than caution?

Note: Also requires 6 Slann Dice? Up to 3 Martial Characters can be assigned.

DC: Uncertain. Successes Needed: Uncertain. Limit: 8? Reward: Tlaqua is Cleansed.

Meet them with Force: Whatever they may be, these interlopers must be kept from your shores. And even more importantly, far from the ruins of the other temple-cities; they have already been despoiled enough. Perhaps the sight of your ships, or your legions, will be enough to dissuade them from returning, but if not then they will be put to the sword and their deaths serve as warning to whatever kin they might have. Specify Where to Confront them.

- Land: Once they have landed, march out your forces to meet them. DC: 20. Successes Needed: 6.

- Sea: Before they can land, send your ships roving to intercept them. DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3.

Note: Cannot be taken with Meet them with Talk.

DC: Variable. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 8. Reward: Interlopers Warned Off/Killed.

Mmm, That Looks Good: You have found one potential domestication prospect, but others surely remain. What utility they might have compared to Nuum is uncertain, but diversity is valuable in its own right to an extent. See what else the bounty of the world has to offer

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 3. Reward: More animals to domesticate.

Stewardship: Zlatlan is near half a ruin. Much work remains to be done in order to restore it even to the glory of its founding, nevermind the heights it reached before the Great Catastrophe.

Aziki (Red Berry) Plantation: Now that you understand some of the potential usefulness of the small fruits, and the fundamentals of their care, establishing a few plots of the plant should be simple enough. Once established they will provide a steady supply of juice whole properties should aid in driving off the creeping torpor.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 2. Reward: Minor reduction to Slann Lethargy.

Seed Tea: The component of the Aziki which staves off fatigue is even more concentrated within the seeds of the fruit, which in fact make up the majority of its mass. Your juicing process leaves you with an abundance of the hard pits, if only it could be extracted into a more easily consumable form. Finding such a method can be safely left in the hands of your Skinks now that the essence of the plant is known.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 3. Reward: Minor reduction to Slann Lethargy.

Gate Repairs: All of your Main Gates were damaged in the fighting and without need of large troop movements they have remained so. Begin unsealing and/or repairing them. Specify a Gate. Can be taken multiple times.

~~- Southern Gate - DC: 30. Successes Needed: 8~~

- Eastern Gate - Successes Needed: 4

- Northern Gate - Successes Needed: 6

- Western Gate - Successes Needed: 2

DC: 0. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 14. Reward: Repaired Main Gates.

Exorcism of the South Gate: At some point during the Great Catastrophe, at many points in truth, the South Gate of Zlatlan was breached — records, and memories, of the time are spotty at best — by some manner of greater daemon. Of what precise inclination it is difficult to say. What you do now know is that it was not killed, but instead somehow became trapped in the sealing of the gate which it smote. The bolstering of the wards may have weakened it, or merely enraged it. In either case it must be dealt with.

Note: Slann Dice can be assigned.

DC: 30/?? Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Southern Gate Repaired, malign entity within expunged.

Harbor Expansion: Though your fortified harbor can produce vessels, they are so far limited to the size of coastal monitors. Such ships are simply not capable of traversing deeper waters on their own — they lack the space for sufficient supplies and are comparatively fragile to the various dangers that prowl through those waters — To produce larger, hardier, vessels requires yet further investment of resources.

Note: Locked by state of gates. Unless taken with a gate opening action that succeeds.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 5. Limit: 12. Reward: Ability to produce larger vessels. Fort becomes Citadel, increased defenses.

Monitor Fleet Expansion: Currently you produce watercraft at need, filling crews as spawnings dictate, and the size of your fleet means your range is small. You can only reliably send vessels a little ways beyond sight of Nahuantl and to the mouth of the Yuatek river; over producing monitors now could free up future production for other needs and even allow you to send expeditions around the horn of the continent — drastically shortening the journey and reducing its risks.

Note: Cannot be taken with Harbor Expansion.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 4. Limit: 4. Reward: Larger Monitor Fleet.

Wall Repairs: Though you have sealed any major gaps in the walls, entire sections still show damage. Stains of unreal pus and blood that do not fade must be cleansed away, cracks sealed, battlements restored from where winged daemons crashed into the walls. All and more must be set to right.

DC: 10. Successes Needed: 12. Limit: 5. Reward: Walls Restored, better defenses in case of concerted attack.

Defensive Aims: Mounted blow pipes, warded cauldrons full of liquid fire, spouts meant to shower attackers in sprays of caustic venom, and more. Though you cannot necessarily provide the ammunition for many of them you can at least restore their physical operation.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 8. Limit: 4. Reward: 'Mundane' wall defenses restored to functionality.

Clearing Rubble: Most of Zlatlan is clear of rubble. But some locations have not even seen that much attention. Address this. Specify location.

- Forge Districts - Successes Needed: 5

- Assembly Yards - Successes Needed: 6

- Temple of Chotec - Successes Needed: 1

- Temple of Huanchi - Successes Needed: 6

- Temple of Tepok - Successes Needed: 4

- Temple of Xokha - Successes Needed: 5

- Temple of Tlanxla - Successes Needed: 5

- Minor Shrines - Successes Needed: 4

- Mortuary Shrines - Successes Needed: 2

DC: 0. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: 10. Reward: Gain access to currently blocked off buildings and locations.

Beast Pen Repairs: Before the coming of the enemy in force you kept your beasts of burden and war in specially kept enclosures which facilitate their comfort and armament. But in order to save even the slimmest of their numbers it was necessary to bring them inside the walls and keep them in much barer conditions. Even those have been damaged and now they must be repaired.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 4. Limit: 8. Reward: Beasts better kept until you can rebuild better accommodations.

Reseeding the Pastures: Some of your beasts require actual grazing lands. For the last few centuries you have managed off of the growth of gardens and occasionally foraging once the Great Catastrophe was over. But the ancient fields that they once grazed could be restored, it only requires cleansing and reseeding the lands.

Note: One Pasture Restored.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 2/2. Limit: 12. Reward: Stegadon and Bastiladon conditions stabilize and will slowly begin improving.

Raising a Clutch: With a few handfuls of nuum eggs it is possible to begin establishing a breed population; this is a duty your Skinks are capable of handling on their own. After all it is simply a matter of establishing the proper physical conditions and ensuring the nuum are acclimated to the presence of Skinks.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 4. Limit: 8. Reward: Consistent source of meat, eggs, feathers. Further helps to stabilize/improve status of carnivorous warbeasts.

Pool Work: Many spawning pools were damaged in the Great Catastrophe, slowing the recovery of your population to a trickle. Little of the damage is serious any longer, major rents were sealed long ago, but subtler damage must still be fixed in order to put them in good order.

Note: One Pool at 2/3 Successes.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3 per destroyed spawning pool. Limit: 9. Reward: Repaired spawning pools. Increased population growth.

Spelunking: Two times now has the very ground Zlatlan was settled on crumbled away. Ground that was thoroughly inspected for just such instability when the city was first settled… thousands of the years before the Great Catastrophe. Whether by the design of the enemy or simply the chaotic turbulence of that momentary submersion into utter unreality, that no surety no longer holds. Send teams down to survey what lies in those depths that have been opened up. Specify entrance.

- Collapsed Pools - DC: 60.

- Pasture Sinkhole - DC: 40.

DC: Variable. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 8. Reward: Information on Subterranean Environment below Zlatlan.

Resetting Traps: Whenever the walls were breached, as they were more than once, the daemons did not find a vulnerable interior which they could despoil to their heart's content. Instead they ran headlong into walls of fire and lightening, pits lined with obsinite spikes, avenues buttressed by walls that shot barbed darts. Every step they took extracted a bloody price. But eventually the pits filled, the ammunition ran dry, and the fire and lightening failed to come. Restore those defenses.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 10. Limit: 6. Reward: Increased defense if your walls are breached again.

Diplomacy: You know of no one else in these lands who would not either obey you without question or flee from you in terror. And you have no way of speaking to anyone beyond its shores.

Getting to Know your Attendants: Though they have been constant presences in your life for centuries in truth you know little of your attendants, that ignorance can be excused given the circumstance of the Great Catastrophe. Before then you never had an attendant for more than a decade at a time, the empire of the Lizardmen was vast and always in need of resources elsewhere. Now though, you will likely be spending millenia with the same attendants. Learn who they are.

Note: Requires Personal Dice.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 4. Reward: Become familiar with two of your attendants. Gives a small permanent boost to dice pool, chance of Skink character.

Meet them with Talk: Perhaps it would be better to take a gentler approach with whoever these intruders are. They must be warned not to approach the rest of the continent, but they might carry new from Lustria and the Slann there, or if these are the itza'xa'khanx (or perhaps the dro'ka'khanx) have some knowledge of your former students.

Note: Cannot be taken with Meet them with Force.

DC: Uncertain. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Meet peacefully with outsiders.

Intrigue: You know of no one else in these lands you might need to spy on. And even if you did you have pitifully few Chameleon Skinks with which to do it. Though those you do have are veterans of an extremely long running guerrilla war against the daemons during the Great Catastrophe.

Stalk Them: No matter your choice, information is king. Send some of the few Chameleon Skinks of Zlatlan to investigate these presumed warmbloods and find what they keep hidden, what they protect through silence.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Information. The upperhand?

A Quieter Search: Chameleon Skinks by nature do not tend to settle in Temple-Cities. Send them out to do what your Saurus cannot, range far and see the state of the world beyond here.

Note: Must specify a general direction or destination. Locks in die and takes variable time to complete.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Information on distant places. Small chance of loot. Warnings of particular long-term threats in a given direction.

Seeking Salamanders: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck as some of those that you lost are notoriously dangerous to keep confined. Salamanders can be remarkably jumpy creatures, and their first reaction is to set things alight. Still, it might be time to locate some.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Salamanders.

Razordon Recon: During the Great Catastrophe some sections of your stable of warbeasts were devastated, leaving you unfortunately lacking in the time since. Though perhaps it was a stroke of good luck in its own way, that many fewer mouths to feed. Razordons for all their relatively small size compared to many of your other beasts have voracious appetites, it takes quite a bit of energy to produce the sheer volume of spines they do. They are useful though.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 2. Limit: 6. Reward: Locate a source of Razordons.

Learning: Your mind is sluggish and your body lethargic. Frequently you fall into periods of stupor and rest from which you awake not energize but surrounded by a fog through which you must fight to come into full alertness. This is not how you were meant to be. You know much still and yet other knowledge alludes you, like a vine just out of reach. The other Slann of Zlatlan are similarly afflicted.

Each turn, for every increment of ten years some slann will be awake and some asleep. Like actions in other categories those in Learning must be completed by spending dice, but only Slann can contribute.

You have
2 Slann of the Third Spawning Dice (Floor at 30)
9 Slann of the Fourth Spawning Dice (Floor at 20)
40 Slann of the Fifth Spawning Dice (Floor at 10)

Error Checking: Is it the work of the enemy? Or simply the inevitable result of a world plunged headlong into disaster? Whatever the cause, for you do not know, grave errors have crept into the work to bolster the Great Warding and though you can only affect a scarce few of the pillars upholding it, now is your last opportunity before the false moon approaches its periapsis. In truth though you worry most about the other Slann across the waters, have they noted these same errors? You do not know.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Ensure your portion of the Web will fully support the Great Warding.

Shields for all Occasions: In the steaming press of the jungle, from the back of Cold Ones, and atop intact fortifications your shields are more than sufficient for weathering the storm of projectiles and blows of a daemon army. Out in the open field with your forces arrayed to receive a charge though, they afford too many gaps for a missile or blow to slip in between. Examine other potential designs.

DC: 40. Successes Needed: 2. Reward: Shield options for forces.

Plant Investigations - Bait Vine: Your surveys have found a number of potentially useful new species of flora that have cropped up in the centuries since the end of the Great Catastrophe. In particular there is a vine that produces dangling rosaries of red seeds that much resemble another species' fruit. When eaten they have a paralytic effect. The vine then partially detaches and proceeds to consume the still living creature. Investigate its uses.

DC: 30. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Knowledge of applications and cultivation..

Plant Investigations - Leadwood Tree: Your surveys have found a number of potentially useful new species of flora that have cropped up in the centuries since the end of the Great Catastrophe. In particular this hardy tree, incredibly difficult to fell, has been noticed in certain isolated rocky outcroppings.

DC: 50. Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Knowledge of applications and cultivation..

Tracing the Web: Once the Geomantic Web stretched across the continent and over the ocean, now that connection is cut and though the energies still flow they are only tiny rivulets where once they were floods. Follow those ancient flows, spiritually, to gain insights and knowledge of distant places.

DC: 60/80. Successes Needed: 2 per tier. Reward: Knowledge and ???

Deepening Connections: Having followed the frayed threads of the Geomantic Web to the other cities, you have managed to grasp some basic aspects of their conditions through their reflections in the Web. You know none of the details. By pulling more deeply on those threads it is possible to, briefly and at some risk, pierce the veil between the half-world of the Geomantic Web and the physical.

DC: 50/~~70/90~~. Successes Needed: 2 per tier. Reward: Reinforce Geomantic Connections, gain information of real world conditions of cities.

Nexus Explorations: With the Geomantic Web at the forefront of your mind and in conjunction with boh the revelations of your explorations of the Great Catastrophe and the recent worrisome seismic activity, you have been drawn towards the state of the nexus of the Web centered on Zlatlan. Once it was as familiar to you as your own body. But the Catastrophe wrought not only changes physical upon the temple-city you rule. Explore its depths.

Note: To complete, at least one personal dice must be invested.

DC: 50 (30). Successes Needed: 4. Reward: Deeper knowledge of the various faultlines and intricacies of Zlatlan's mystical structure.

Mystic Seismographs: Though mundane methods of exploration should suffice for ascertaining to what extent the current abscesses extend, assuming nothing malign lurks beneath, pinpointing future collapses is not assured. For the Slann though even the farthest depths of the world can be brought near, with the proper spells of course.

DC: 20. Successes Needed: 3. Reward: Better understanding of the ground beneath your feet.

Contemplate the Stars: The movements of the heavens have always held sway over the fortunes of events on the ground; whether by influencing the flow of the Winds of Magic, through fortuitous alignments for the designs of the enemy, or simply as heralds for cosmological events. Reading them may provide you with some insight in events soon to come to pass.

DC: 60. Successed Needed: 6. Reward: Minor Prophecy or Warning.

Review the Sequence: Your initial explorations of the Sacred Plaques has revealed a great deal about them. And about the difficulty you will face in deciphering their meaning in toto. Plaques seem to shift and transform over the years, though whether this is simply hidden aspects coming to the fore or actual changes is as of yet unclear. Still it is vital to your goals that you press on. Without knowing the Great Plan there is precious little to be done but guess and that is unacceptable.

DC: 90. Successes Needed: ??? Reward: Greater understanding of the Plan.

Personal
You have two (2) Personal Dice

Meditate: Contemplate the Sun. Turn your mind east. Consider the endless horizon stretching on and on into eternity. Place yourself then at the zenith and draw all the world inward.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Slight increase to Alertness for next turn.

Lend your Insight: Spend some time considering a matter.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Add 1 dice to any action.

Teachers Learn Too: You remember fondly your students amongst the itza'xa'khanx and dro'ka'khanx, how they took your lessons and slowly pierced back the veil of the world to glimpse in their own ways the power at their fingertips. Overcoming limitations you first thought insurmountable in the case of the delvers.

DC: 50/70. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 2. Reward: Opens further research options.

Garden of the Lost: In distant Tlaxtlan there was built a garden about the Temple of Xholankha, the Lost, a place of great tranquility that drew the Wind which was your focus, Ghyran, and sheltered plants from every corner of the world and beyond. You seek to recreate that to provide Zlatlan with the same.

DC: 0. Successes Needed: 1. Limit: 1. Reward: Stewardship Action and Learning Action to complete the work.

Personal Project: Write-in some sort of magical ritual, or project you wish to undertake in your free time. Subject to QM approval.

DC: Variable. Successes Needed: Variable. Limit: Variable. Reward: My interpretation of your write-in.

Note: man, using this laptop for writing anything long form is.... ugh. Turn results will be delayed until I have a proper monitor and can work on the turn more comfortably. As such I will also leave the vote open a lot longer, and the discussion period will probably be longer too. Please share comments and critique, ask questions freely, even come up with write-in actions if you want.

Manual Moratorium
Length depending on the pace of Discussion. Vote will like not close until next Thursday.
Vote by Plan.

CuttleFish2.0 · Jun 13, 2020

[X] Plan Wake Up, Smell The Aziki, Save The World With Boats
-[X] Long Range Patrol, with Loqtli, the Scar-Veteran and 1 die.
-[X] Expedition to Cuexotl, with Khaxilitli, the Scar-Veteran and 2 dice.
-[X] Write-In: Naval Expedition to Lustria, with Huatza-Botl the Oldblood, plus 3 dice, plus overflow from Harbor Expansion
--[X] Objective of expedition: alert the Lustrian slann about the miscalculation in the Great Warding. Bring the Leviathan-Bone Harpoon to maximize chance of a successful ocean crossing.
-[X] Aziki Plantation with 2 dice
-[X] Seed Tea with 1 die
-[X] Repair Western Gate with 2 dice
--[X] Write-In: If somehow this fails, which shouldn't be possible, take dice off of Pool Work until it succeeds.
-[X] Exorcism of the South Gate, with 4 dice, along with two 3rd-generation slann and Qu'Qu-Kor, the Temple Guard
-[X] Harbor Expansion, with Xehtzaihl the Shipwright and 12 dice.
-[X] Clearing Rubble, Temple of Tepok, with Awanabil'tat the Architect and 2 dice.
-[X] Clearing Rubble, Temple of Chotec, 1 die.
-[X] Clearing Rubble, Forge Districts, with Xilotl the Smith and 1 dice.
-[X] Beast Pen Repairs, with Tehe'Tenq the Scribe and 3 dice.
-[X] Pool Work, 3 dice.
-[X] Meet them with Talk, with 1 die and the insight of Wik'keer'mal (personal die used)
--[X] Write-In: If meeting succeeds in making friendly contact with elven mariners, and the Zlatlan expedition to Lustria has not yet departed, inquire whether elves can ferry a small delegation of skink priests to Lustria to alert the Lustrian slann about the problem with the Great Warding, and tell them to expect us to make less tenuous contact as soon as possible. Maybe if the Lustrian slann know we're here and have relevant information, they can come to us.
-[X] Getting To Know Your Attendants (Wik'keer'mal personal die used)
-[X] Stalk Them, with Hua'Ximni the eldest chameleon skink and 1 die
-[X] A Quieter Search- Cuexotl, 1 die.
-[X] Personal actions:
--[X] Lend Your Insight- Meet Them With Talk, 1 personal die
--[X] Getting To Know Your Attendants, 1 personal die
-[X] Error Checking- 11 Fifth Spawning slann
-[X] Mystic Seismographs- 3 Fourth Spawning slann
-[X] Tracing the Web- 1 Fourth Spawning slann (Udhi-Tegha), 4 Fifth Spawning slann
-[X] Shields For All Occasions- 2 Fifth Spawning slann
-[X] Deepening Connections- 1 Fourth Spawning slann, 4 Fifth Spawning slann
-[X] Review the Sequence- 4 Fourth Spawning slann, 9 Fifth Spawning slann
-[X] Contemplate the Stars- 10 Fifth Spawning slann

Turn 3 Results

Long Range Patrol: 1 die, Loqtli.

26, 74

1 Success!

Total: 1

At the turn of the new century, even as work began on the repairs to the western gate, Loqtli once again took charge of his small force of Horned Ones to range far out into the wild jungles surrounding Zlatlan.

He also took charge of the entirety of Zlatlan's native Cold Ones. And rode out from within the confines of the city itself at the head of a trickling column of riders that sooned joined itself to another trickle, and another until it was not a trickle but a stream. Then a roaring river of scaled flesh. It was not the whole of the population of beasts, some hundred or so remained still within the wall of the temple-city, but it was the majority.

The force of cavalry rode out as a single might force for a week and then splintered along a dozen different lines. Much of the territory had already been charted, patrol paths marked out in ways all but invisible to any save the Lizardmen, but the country to the east still remained mostly unexplored. With the great range of mountains guarding that flank it had not been necessary for ensuring the city's safety and yet even so the work could not be truly completed until the condition of that land was known.

So while others went to survey places known, Logtli led his Horned Ones east. Soon all would be known to him, and to the Slann through him.

Action Completed. Stewardship Actions Unlocked. Trickle of information concerning movements of various non-lizardman populations gained.

Repair Western Gate: 2 dice

59, 12

2 Successes!

Total: 2

Repairing gates the size of the ones of Zlatlan's was no small feat; they were solid stone, each one wide enough for a bastiladon and a half to stand atop, and attached to the opening and closing mechanisms hidden within the gatehouses by a truly massive bronze pin. That pin had to be removed, and the mechanisms detached before the doors could be moved. It took weeks to remove even one fully and of course both sides could not stand open at the same time so the word must be done in stages, first the inner set of doors and then the outer.

And there was of course much waiting as gears, rods, and wheels were pulled from the opening and closing mechanism to be inspected and repaired. Fortunately this time was not idle, as the doors themselves were inspected for cracks and damage. Quickly declared fit, it remained only to put them back in place once the mechanism was back in working order.

Six months and a week passed from the start of work until the inner doors were once again operational.

From there work could begin on the outer doors.

Nearly twenty weeks were required just to bring the doors out of their housings — much of the internal mechanisms had been warped in place, allowing only a little range of movement, or torn loose from their proper housings and there was debris caught in all manner of place, some of it entirely unwholesome in origin and requiring the attention of priests to cleanse — finally though the work was done and the doors laid out on the open grounds before the walls of Zlatlan. As the various pieces of the mechanism for opening and closing the door were repaired within the city, the outer doors too were inspected. Of the two, one was judged too close to ruin and consigned to be destroyed and replaced while the other was deemed sufficiently intact to be repaired in situ. For the latter a method similar to that used in repairing the spawning pools was used.

With the inner doors in working order and the outer doors gaping laid out it was possible, for the first time in many centuries, to bring out the warbeasts of the Lizardmen; and it was fortunate that the inner doors had not been in such a state. Four stegadon tromped out, accompanied by a group of Kroxigors hefting enormous pickaxes led by a nervous little Skink and guarded by a troop of Saurus. In moments the procession had disappeared into the depths of the jungle.

Korai hefted the pick over their head. Fast enough Liss'en Ohp, perched far too closely on the scaffolding overhead, nearly went head over tail. The Skink sent a chittering barrage of insults and reprimands raining down on their head.

It was an old game they played, the Kroxigor and Liss'en; they were all spawn-siblings, born from the same pond on the same day, and bound together by the very will of the Old Ones. No matter what harsh words were said or what near misses they gave the Skink they all returned to the same pit at night, shared the same meals, tended to each other's wounds. Admittedly that last was more difficult for Korai and the other Kroxigors.

But more difficult was not impossible and there were many ways to look after someone.

Once, Liss'en had been cornered up a tree by some hairy beast out of the deep jungle with tusks as big as Korai's forearm. They had been felling some trees for… something important, for weeks and though most of the jungle animals knew to stay away this one apparently did not.

Everyone of them had been scared beyond sense at what would happen to Liss'en and none had known what to do. Liss'en had been too frightened to give sensible orders. Korai had had to think long and hard for the solution.

It was a matter of moments for Korai and the others to render the creature into so many bloody chunks, none of them bigger than Liss'en themself. For safety they had carried the Skink all the way back to Zlatlan under one arm, it was much too much of a risk to have them wandering about getting into Old Ones knew how much trouble.

Liss'en had protested of course, loudly, the entire way. But they had not given the order for Korai to let them down. They could still remember the squeaking chitter of their voice carrying –-

"Swing! Swing you lumbering thick skulled oaf of a brute!"

— yes, very much like that.

"SWING!" Came the shout again, and Korai looked up to find Liss'en gesturing wildly with one reedy little arm, "The pick, swing it!"

Oh. Right.

Korai brought their arms forward and down, driving the tip of the pick biting deep into the stone in front of them and sending chunks and splinters spinning loose.

Skinks like Liss'en were often reminding Kroxigors like Korai about things like that, because it was so hard to remember sometimes when their minds drifted to other, more important, things. Of course they were always thinking a dozen different things, it made them fretful and easily frightened, Korai was glad they didn't have to worry so much.

They hefted again and brought the pick down in the same motion this time, sending more chips of stone flying away — hmm, they might have to go a bit deeper into the stone, Korai didn't like the look of the stone there; looked weak, if they came at it wrong it might crack the whole slab.

Liss'en had said this stone was meant for the gate, which meant it was an important stone. Had to be whole.

"Swing!"

Right.

Korai swung again, a bit further back from the seam this time. Yes, that stone looked better.

Four weeks passed before the group returned to Zlatlan, a rough slab of stone in tow. Six more weeks to carve it so that it matched. Most of those spent in carving out the stylized depiction of the Old One Yuxa — a yawning maw of darkness with teeth of stars and a tongue of planets — who was lord of the farthest west, master of dusk and counterpart to Chotec. At long last it was done and in time the two doors again stood side by side within the walls of Zlatlan, able to swing open freely at command.

Action Completed. Western Gate Repaired. Stewardship Actions Unlocked. Various DCs lower.

Harbor Expansion: 12 dice, Xehtzaihl .

Auto, Auto, 36, 76, 56, 24, 82, 15, 78, 62, 85, 11, 24, 84

12 Successes!

Total: 12

Xehtzaihl watched a pair of stegadon drag an enormous block of volcanic rock nearby, while another pair were detached from the enormous basket of ash drawn out of the deep stores of Zlatlan. The former would be broken up then mixed with the ash, slag from the city, and finally seawater to form a slurry which would be poured into the enormous drained pit stretching out into the water of the bay and when it had set and dried it would form the first layer of the eventual drydock. Enchanting glyphs would be engraved into every exposed surface to prevent erosion and reinforcing worked throughout to strengthen it against shock and stress. Another twelve years of work before the first hull could be laid down.

It had already taken three years to get to the point of being able to begin. First a series of dikes had to be constructed using excavated dirt from the ongoing expansion of the fort into a proper citadel —

Though the water above churned with the wind, Tukil paid it no mind. Beneath the waves was calm, the water of the Bay of Stars shielded from all but the gentle pull of the true moon by its shape. For a Skink the gentle tug and pull of the water might have been more difficult to ignore, for Tukil it was not but a gentle motion across their scales as they swam deeper and deeper.

Light receded above them though it never fully faded. It hardly mattered, a Kroxigors eyes were well adapted to low light just as their lungs were made to sustain them for great lengths at depth and their powerful feet and tail were made to propel them through water with ease.

Which was handy because Tukil needed to reach the bottom.

This side of the dike had not been settling properly for the past week, constantly shifting and sinking no matter how much soil was dumped in the location. It made further expansion tricky. Threatened to delay work by days or weeks. Such difficulties were not acceptable and so Tukil had been selected, along with with two others they did not know, to inspect the area n in question.

From both sides. Tukil was in the open sea, or what would be the open sea when the polder was completed. At last they saw seafloor and turned to inspect the base of the dike.

Several minutes passed as they swum the base of the failing section, finally spotting a jutting piece of rock protruding from the seafloor to dick into the dike. When dirt fell on it, instead of piling up into a compacted mound it only slid down and off the sides; creating a shadow of empty space in the dike only slowly being filled in as the sides fell in to meet.

After a moment of contemplation Tukil swam beneath the lee of the rock and crouched into as tight a ball as they could, setting their back against the bottom of the stone and wedging their tail in as deeply as possible. With their feet flat against the seabed, they gave a mighty heave.

Dirt cascaded down around them, some of it tickling their nostrils.

The stone rocked back into place.

Crouching deeper into the crevice, Tukil waited a beat and then gave another heave. Rock dug into their scales, not painfully, but noticeably.

Again it rocked back into place. But gentler this time.

So, with a final explosive heave Tukil sent the enormous stone rocking away into the deeper waters and themself rocketing back upward towards the surface. Which was good because they were getting close to running out of breath.

— then the water had to be drained, and finally the outline of the harbour's foundation had to be laid in wooden planks.

When the last layer of cement had dried it left a pair of enormous sloping grooves stretching out into the water to the east of the now citadel, capped at one end by heavy wood gates sealed by pitch. The drydocks stretched far enough back in land and out into the water that three ships could be comfortably worked at once in each, depending on size, with each segregated from the others by additional smaller wood gates. And though currently only the next size up of vessel could be produced, the drydocks themselves were entirely prepared for the two sizes of vessels beyond that.

As vessels proceeded down the line the water could be filled and drained as needed, several large grates had been fitted into the walls of each section attached to channels running nearly the length of the walls. Each tunnel large enough to admit Kroxigor at need and connected to large pumps.

On the western side of the citadel the two small docks had been expanded as well, using the same techniques, into a row of five wide docks that could host numbers much beyond the current fleet. Cranes stood scattered across their surfaces, ready to load and unload whatever might be carried in though for the time being all that came ashore was fish, crustaceans, and mollusks from the various fishing boats that trawled the bay.

And in between the two stood the new citadel. With walls raised twice as high in solid stone, towers to match, and the glinting pinnacle of a Temple of Tzunki protruding overhead. The skeleton of a ring of docks at the base of the prominence on which it stood had been expanded and filled in, little more than a ring of solid wood at which troops could be taken aboard or let off; it turned the citadel into a hard knot of resistance which could not be easily assailed. In time the skeleton could be further expanded and connected to the rest of the harbor.

The shapes of larger hulls were already taking shape in the dry docks, a pair of frigates with the stone keels typical of all the larger designs laid out so many years ago by the Slann. Worked with enchantments which would lighten their bulk and give them greater speed, these vessels had but one purpose. To carry the expedition even now being prepared for Lustria.

It was only because of the superlative designs of the Slann, and the nature of the Lizardmen, that such vessels could even contemplate travelling such distances, but by the middle of the third decade of the century it would be done.

Action Completed. Docks significantly expanded. Learning Actions Unlocked, Stewardship Actions Unlocked, Martial Actions Unlocked. 2 Frigates Produced.

Error Checking: 11 5th Spawning Slann

100, 39, 40, 10, 84, 84, 6 10, 46, 70, 62, 27

7 Successes! 1 Natural Critical! +1 Success

Total: 8

The mystic quietude which had settled over the world in the wake of the enactment of the Great Warding was soon to come to a close, the malign influence of the false moon waxed greater and greater with each passing day. Once it reached its closest approach the touch of the enemy upon the world would be heavy indeed — not so great as during the Great Catastrophe, but enough to stain the world irrevocably.

No possibility of victory existed, but defenses could be erected. Obstacles laid. Paths obscured. This was the duty for which the Slann, all the Lizardmen, had been made by the Old ones; to safeguard the world against predation by abhorrent evils born from nightmare excess of every kind. And though they had manifestly and utterly failed in that charge, they could not shirk it.

It was not in them.

So again the Slann turned their minds to the matter of errors in their efforts to bolster the Great Warding and for near on half a century they meditated the least of the plaques of the sequence which were open to them. Picking and probing for insights and clues.

The grand avenues of energy from the Geomantic Web were not open to them, distant nexii naught but the most indistinct beacons whose shape could only be guessed and calculated through ruthless rigor. Constellations were studied. Winds tasted. Distant planets in their endless orbital tracks accounted for, even as the ocean currents — read from the movements of waves in the Bay of Stars — added their own data. Insight was piled on insight until at last the gathered Slann could be sure all previous missteps and errors had been caught.

Only then did the real work begin.

True corrections could not be made across such vast physical distances, there were limits to even a Slann's prodigious power and the rituals necessary to enact such changes were imprecise at best and prone to significant collateral damage. Even had they the necessary skill to undertake them. Perhaps one such as Mazdamundi, he of the Second Spawning who ruled Hexoatl, could have.

But Zlatlan had none to match him.

So they made do with the subtler methods available to them. As one the gathered Slann of the Fifth Spawning rose as a great choir into the aether above the city and cast their gazes east, west, north, south. In every direction they spied one or two twining threads of power which pulsed, like the slow ponderous heartbeat of the world itself, their way towards Ulthuan and Warding at its center.

Reaching out with limbs of spirit each of them grasped a particular tendrils, felt the thrumming power of it pulling their souls into an echoing and powerful resonance; the sheer force of it threatened to sweep them away for a moment. But Slann were supreme masters of magic, capable of feats even the unborn servants of the enemy could only hope to match by the dark graces of their idiot gods. Steadied, they tested the threads of power.

Each flexed easily in hand, bending power into whatever shape they desired, but resisted change and snapping back into place the second they were given freedom. So the Slann joined together again, in twos and threes and began their work.

With patient strength, limitless rigor, and manifold minds the gathered Slann bent and pulled and yanked the cords of power into more auspicious alignments. Adjusting spiritual pressures and mystical levers so that their origins were shifted by precise enough degrees to form a continent and ocean spanning glyph of protection that blared defiance back at the false moon.

Action Completed. Errors Corrected - Resulting in ??? and ??? and…

Aziki Plantation: 2 dice

14, 87

2 Successes!

Total: 2

With the secrets of the plant thoroughly plumbed by the Slann, the task of planting, caring for, picking, and juicing the aziki fell to the Skinks of Zlatlan and they took to it with the same alacrity and drive they took to all their tasks. Total and complete.

By its nature the process could not be rapid, once the seeds were planted it took several years for the plants to mature. From there the berries could be harvested and pressed to produce a trickle of the juice. For the first several years this was only a small amount, enough for each Slann to have a cup every few months and provided no great change overall to their general feeling of lethargy.

In part this was expected, precise methods had to be determined before large scale production could be commenced but a hidden confounding factor emerged; though it had been known from the beginning, due to the research of the Slann, that conditions were not precisely ideal for the plan, it had been thought such factors could be compensated for with magic. Unfortunately it was not so simple. Aziki, apparently, were quite temperamental plants and the quality of their fruits varied widely depending on many conditions. Too much rain or too little. Overly hot seasons.

All had adverse impacts on the plant and though enchantments could smooth the difficulties to some degrees it was ultimately an inefficient and costly solution. Ideally extensive plantations would be located outside of the city, higher into the foothills of the nearby mountain range where the environment was more stable.

But the state of the populace, the condition of Zlatlan, and the general disrepair of the infrastructure beyond its walls meant such expansions could not be undertaken. For the time being the limited production was enough to meet the needs of the Slann, though no significant stockpile could be maintained.

Action Completed. Aziki Juice Produced for Slann. Roll one less d2 at each Turn to determine Lethargy! Small chance to lose bonus per Turn.

Getting To Know Your Attendants: 1 Personal die

74

1 Success!

Total: 1

2 Skink Attendant Rolls
1-4 Scribe 5-6 Chief 7-10 Priest
10, 9

One evening as he was inspecting some of the mundane beehives he'd installed when he first arrived in Zlatlan, or rather one of its descendents, Wik'keer'mal called one of his senior priests to attend to him. He did not often do such things, many Skinks often took such things to mean more than they ought, but it was necessary. Events were in motion that required too delicate a touch to leave his most capable servants as virtual strangers to him.

When the priest, named Gif'a-Gahb, came skittering in and prostrated themself before him.

"August Lord, you called this one?"

"Rise priest," he projected.

After a moment's hesitation the Skink did rise, though they stayed with their head bowed, darting eyes peering past the ruff of their feathered headdress only occasionally when they thought he might be looking away. Most nervous out of all the races which comprised the Lizardmen, Skinks were prone to seeing disaster around every corner, though it did not damper their bravery in battle or their devotion to the ends of the Old Ones.

No doubt at that very moment, Gif'a-Gahb thought they had been called in over some failing or mistake. Though Wik'keer'mal, and Slann in general, was not prone to castigating his servants.

"You have been with me since I left Lustria; over centuries, through disaster and war."

There was a pause as the Skink contemplated his thoughts.

"Yes, my Lord, and it has been the highest honor imaginable since this one was blessed to be spawned with the gifts of the Old Ones."

"And yet, in all those long eons of life shared I have not grown to know you. It is a failing — "

"No my Lord!" Gif'a-Gahb squeaked in shock, then in great terror clapped their hands tightly over their mouth before immediately prostrating themselves against the floor.

" — It is a failing, but one I mean to correct," he continued as if the priest had not interrupted him at all. Though in truth such things were an irritation. "Rise then, priest, and tell me of yourself."

There was a stretch of silence, a long moment, which passed in an instant to Wik'keer'mal but which must have seemed like an eternity to the Skink. Finally at last, they straightened themselves slowly, gripping their lensed staff tightly in claw and peering up at the Slann.

"My Lord?"

"What works do you cherish? Are there victories you prize? Tell me of the ends you turn your days to when no immediate duty is required of you."

Gif'a-Gahb swallowed, "My Lord, my all is given to the work of the Old Ones in which you instruct me… "

Such an answer was to be expected, almost lauded, but he did not need to be assured of the priests dedication towards the Great Plan of the Old Ones, no, Wik'keer'mal needed his question answered. Rather than repeat it though he simply waited. Letting the silence lengthen until it became a pregnant moment of tension running through the priest.

" ... "

Any moment.

"... but, ah, once this one had the privilege to bring the might of the heavens down upon a horde of the neverborn pressing a column out of the Golden Tower… "

He crooked his lips, not quite a smile but something like it, as the memory of the event swam up in Gif'a-Gahb's mind and Wik'keer'mal plucked an echo of it out for himself. This was good.

"... and during the decade of monsoons last century I worked my will… "

So they went on for sometime. Talking of battles won, defeats tasted, works completed. And the sour taste of seeing the temple-city in such a state when they could still remember the glories of its past. There were of course more conversations over the following months and weeks where the Slann prompted and questioned until at last he was satisfied with his knowledge of the priest.

Atahuinqua was reviewing, for the third time, the list of supplies being laid in for the planned expedition back to Lustria when the summons reached them. It was the fourth such summons in as many weeks. Had the summoner not been Lord Wik'keer'mal himself the oracle would have called the interruptions tiresome and irksome, especially given their apparently frivolous nature, but of course the Lord was as far beyond Atahuinqua as they were beyond an ant and whatever reasons their Lord had must far outstrip the oracles work in importance.

Though it was important work.

Ever before Chupayotl had fallen, details on the condition of the continent had been… unreliable in the aftermath of the Catastrophe. Zlatlan had only a partial list of which temple-cities had fallen into ruin and which yet stood and their maps were of course millenia out of date which made planning for a route for the expedition quite a mess.

And of course sailing the ships that way in the first place would be an entirely new endeavor, though at least there the prodigious intellect of the Slann had foreseen such possibilities — the entire design of the frigate was one of flexibility to mold itself to new mission parameters — so the pair of ships should not be too hard pressed. No. The real uncertainty came once they reached the continent itself. For navigating that now fallen land to the safety of Itza would be no small feat even for one such as the Oldblood Huatza-Botl.

Which was why Atahuinqua must do their utmost to ensure every possibility that could be accounted for from the outset, was. And these strange meetings with the Lord Wik'keer'mal interrupted that work.

But it was clearly a necessary interruption.

That was the thought that dominated the Skink oracle's mind as they arrived to the Slann Mage Lords chamber.

"My Lord."

They bowed low but did not prostrate, the Lord preferred subtle deference over obsequious displays, Atahuinqua had learned over the long centuries of service.

"Rise, Atahuinqua and rest yourself."

He extended one of his slim limbs to indicate a reed mat set before him, underneath the great western facing window where steady sunlight poured down to warm air and stone. Easing their way forward the oracle eventually settled onto the surface and let their body ease under the pleasant ministrations of the afternoon sun.

"Last you told me of your adventure, some centuries past, in which you uncovered a hidden shrine of Itzl and recovered reins fit for a troglodon."

They nodded, "Yes, Lord."

"Tell me my Oracle, have you yet divined the location of a nest of the beasts?"

"Regrettably, this one has not. Though I have meditated for long years and wandered deep into the mountains… I fear none live near to the city."

Wik'keer'mal intoned a hum, a real physical hum. Then opened his mouth, long unused except in sleep, and spoke.

"Perhaps, farther to the north. Near to Cuexotl and its smoking caverns."

Action Incomplete - 3 Successes Remain

Gif'a-Gab
- Type: Priest
- Specialization: Heavens
- When Assigned:
-- +2 Dice to Stewardship Action
-- +1 Dice to Martial Action (Counts as a Slann Dice)
Atahuinqua
- Type: Priest
- Specialization: Oracle
- When Assigned:
-- +2 Dice to Stewardship Action
-- +1 Dice to Martial Action
-- Reroll Lowest Failure on Action

Stalk Them: 1 die, Hua'Ximni.

9

1 Success!

Total: 1

Who's Poking About? - ??? - ????? ?? ???????

While sails had been seen at a distance up and down the coast since the close of the last century, always just slightly too far for the Coastal Monitors to reach in good time. Frustrating proof of interlopers traipsing about the continent, doing only the Old Ones knew what.

Despoiling moldering temples. Sullying sites of mystic import. Rooting about with impunity in the lands that had been decreed to be under the stewardship of the Lizardmen by the Old Ones.

Were it in their power to deny, none of the Slann or their Skink servants would have let the matter pass without answer for even a moment, but as in all things in the shadow of their former empire it had not been in their power. Once the harbor expansion had finished and the matter of the expedition to Lustria concluded it would be. But for the time being the coldblooded masters of the continent had instead to rely entirely upon luck and good fortune.

As it happened, circumstances arranged themselves nicely only a decade and a half into the new century.

Sails were sighted again, by a patrol edging the boundary between territory that had once belonged to Nahuantl and that of Zlatlan, but this time rather than disappearing into some hidden cove or disappearing again over the horizon they instead grew. Word raced back to the city. Then raced out again and the jungle came alive with sprawling movements of patrols.

The unknown ships were watched from shore by myriad eyes and their every movement reported back. When they landed it was known and when the first of their ships' company disembarked, confirming at last it was the itza'xa'khanx of Ulthuan, that knowledge too made its way into star chambers to be whispered into the ears of meditating Slann. More orders went out.

Watching eyes shrank bank, pulling away from the apparent paths of the itza'xa'khanx to avoid any possibility of meeting.

Three ships they had come in, tall things of fine wood and broad sails with two rows of oars a side, painted in bright shades of blue with fine carvings decorating the hull. Across each prow the figure of some dark bird spread itself, as if in flight swooping down to snatch prey, while the railings flowed in thin irregular lines like banks of fog — topped by ornaments hewn in the shape of every phase of the moon imaginable. Though each day some parties from the ships ranged out they never went far, always each night returning to the safety of their vessels.

For the purposes of the Lizardmen this posed some difficulty, for it meant the most opportune time to infiltrate the vessels themselves was during the day when the greatest part of the company was about. But that also robbed the chameleon skinks of the greater part of their advantages. Though their hides could camouflage them in deep foliage and at a distance, under the steady illumination of the sun and without appropriate cover their gifts did not do nearly so well. Still, each of the surviving Chameleon Skinks in Zlatlan were superlative examples of their breed, survivors of hundreds of battles with the vilest foes, and well practiced in stealth.

This would simply be the latest test of their talents.

And so on five shallow canoes the entire company of Skinks went out, led by the eldest of their number Hua'Ximni. They approached until the ships were just around the bend, obscured by a dense growth of mangroves, a distance longer than even Hua'Ximni could shoot their blowpipe, and then one by one and with preternatural quiet they each slipped into the water.

It took over an hour to swim the distance, only daring to break the surface for moments at a time to renew their breath. No hint or clue of their presence could be let slip so early. Eventually they reached the ships and with agonizing slowness crept up the sides until their heads just crested the waters.

For the next three days they remained there, limpeted to the side of the hulls. Overhearing only the occasionally raised voice and observing the routines and patterns of the ships only by sound. Twice they had to dodge inspections of the outer hull; not a sign of suspicion, but simply the regular maintenance that must be done to keep any ship of size in good order.

On the night of the third day they crept further up the side of the ships, in ones and twos as openings presented themselves.

Not all made it aboard a ship. And those would cling to the side of the vessel until the infiltration was complete. But those that did quickly found themselves some place to hide; either high up in the folds of the furled sails, in shadows of crates and barrels, or in corners piled with rope and spare cloth.

They overheard many conversations over the days they spent in hiding, only occasionally shifting positions when it proved absolutely necessary. Much the Skinks did not understand, the language taught to them by the Slann long since altered into only bare recognizability by time but they learned enough to begin to piece together some truths.

Ulthuan had been hard hit by the Great Catastrophe; there were frequent allusions to the wreckage of the war and the results of its prosecution upon the Kingdoms of the isle.

The itza'xa'khanx had since recovered though and built themselves to new heights. Places and territories were named which appeared on no map ever seen by Lizardmen eyes. Some speak of explorations of lands to the east and west of Ulthuan and even colonies being established there.

Some great upheaval occurred in the political hierarchy of the itza'xa'khanx as the sailors spoke not of the Everqueen which had been known to Lord Wik'keer'mal but rather of a Phoenix King. Always though in comparison to the previous one.

Whether these comparisons were favorable or unfavorable was uncertain, the intricacies of the language escaped the Skinks.

Towards the end of a week's time, Hua'Ximni took the largest risk possible and during the day shook themself loose from their hiding place. With great care and patience they snuck down, avoiding the heavy and clumsy footfalls of the wandering sailors, and stole into what by all indications were the quarters of the master of this expedition.

It was late in the day by the time they managed it. Time was thus short. With some haste they proceeded to rifle through the various belongings of the inhabitant in search of clues; mostly they turned up only the mundane records such an expedition inevitably produced and writings on the subject of magic penned by the hand of itza'xa'khanx. Things of minor interest but not great value.

Just as time was running out, Hua'Ximni found a scrap of paper fallen beneath the desk. A faint taste of magic lingered upon its surface, thus it presented to great a risk to carry away but the Chameleon Skink memorized its contents.

Then with great dexterity they scrambled onto the ceiling above the door just as the occupant of the room returned, stealing out right over their head and quickly scurrying over the side of the ship and down into the water. Soon followed the others.

When at last the company of Skinks had made its way laboriously back to Zlatlan and their report was delivered, Hua'Zimni reproduced a perfect copy of the scrap from memory. It took the efforts of Lord Wik'keer'mal himself to translate the entirety of its contents. It read thus;

… in agreement. But it matters not. Even if it has been moved across the continent, you must retrieve the artifact. It is vital for my endeavors.

You know the stakes. Do not fail me.

It went unsigned.

Action Completed. Information gained.

Meet them with Talk: 1 die, 1 Personal die

73, 7

1 Successes!

Total: 1

Their Reaction - ???

Armed and armored with information, half certainty and half supposition, a procession of Saurus and Skinks went out from Zlatlan; at their head the priest Gif'a-Gahb rode atop a mighty stegadon, with an honor guard of four Temple Guards marching beside. Two more of the mighty warbeasts trailed after and their footsteps set the earth trembling.

For the weeks they travelled deep into the jungle. At every step met by far ranging patrols bringing back news of the movements of the itza'xa'khanx. At last the itza'xa'khanx had strayed farther from their landing site than a half a day's travel and spent the night in a hastily made camp beneath the stars. Searching for something in the jungles, or perhaps searching for some manner of sign or portent.

Then they were pulling up their camp and returning aboard their ships and setting sail again. But they did not go far, or anywhere in fact. Rather the ships pulled out into slightly deeper waters and held position.

Gif'a-Gahb contemplated this and determined that they had been warned by some manner of divination of the coming host, though quite clearly precise details had eluded whoever amongst their number had seen the signs. With a gesture the entire column once again returned to the march. On the twenty-third day out from Zlatlan they reached a suitable distance from the place where the itza'xa'khanx had landed and scouts spied the ships still out at sea.

Pulled ever farther from shore, in fact.

Which would not do.

Taking their honor guard, a handful of their own attendants, and the mighty beast they had ridden Gif'a-Gahb approached the landing site and stopped just as they cleared the line of trees. With a gesture one of the attendant Skinks then raised a banner emblazoned the glyph of focus overlaid atop the glyph of the moon. The bulk of the stegadon and the bright color of the banner should serve to draw attention to their presence, but if that were not enough the priest then raised their staff and began gathering power.

Slowly in the skies out beyond the mouth of the small bay there grew a fierce wind as the clouds darkened and an ominous charge filled the air. The threatening storm did not come though, instead the wind simply built and built, driving the waters into greater and greater fury and slowly driving the ships back into the bay. Once the ships were again firmly within the confines of the bay Gif'a-Gahb released their spell.

The winds stilled and the waters settled. But the message could not be mistaken. A meeting was required.

Despite their blatant desire, it still took just over two hours for the itza'xa'khanx to respond. There were no attempts to depart and at the end of that time a smaller boat was put into the water and immediately headed for the beach directly ahead of the priest.

Gif'a-Gahb observed the party that disembarked with curiosity; by description it was comprised of only a handful of individuals, equally mixed amongst the sexes which had been detailed by Lord Wik'keer'mal. It was an arrangement whose purpose eluded the priest, but they did not dare question the intent of the Old Ones. Whatever the reason for the strange method of growth it was not theirs to wonder.

The party stopped a short ways away, close enough to be heard but far enough away they might be able to reach their boat before violence was brought to them. Sensible. None of the itza'xa'khanx made any move to speak.

Assessing? Or perhaps attempting to establish dominance? It mattered not, Gif'a-Gahb had been given the duty to speak with these creatures and speak they would.

"Greetings!" They called out. "Welcomed you are under a banner of peace. Know that you now stand in the lands and countries given over into our care by the Gods Most High."

Though the Slann of Zlatlan had ably parsed out the meaning of the distorted tongue of the itza'xa'khanx, it had been judged that owing to a lack of diverse vocabulary it was better to use the older version. Both were mutually intelligible to one another, if not with ease.

After a long moment, and some hurried dialogues amongst the party, one of the itza'xa'khanx spoke up at last. One of the females, if Gif'a-Gahb was not mistaken, who had the air of a wielder of the winds about her.

"Hail, what manner of creature speaks now?"

They spoke slowly, as if unused to such words or uncertain of the listener's comprehension. Understandable.

"We are the First Servants, whose masters, the Gods Most High, crafted the world. You speak now in this moment to Gif'a-Gahb, Priest of the Heavens. And who answers across the gulf?"

It was a challenge to be sure, attempting to conduct such a discussion through a language it was evident neither participant spoke with regularity, but it presented the best possibility of understanding. And through such avoiding unnecessary bloodshed.

"Speaking now is Cicedhya, an explorer of fair Ulthuan. Why come you to confront us now upon this shore?"

At last, the formalities of introduction were completed. Now could the true work begin.

What did Gif'a-Gahb say?

[] [MESSAGE] That Cicedhya and her ships were unwelcome upon these shores and should depart immediately, upon pain of death.
[] [MESSAGE] That Cicedhya and her ships were trespassing upon territories watched by the Lizardmen of Zlatlan, and they would know their intent.
[] [MESSAGE] That Cicedhya and her folk were the first of their people they had seen in many centuries and they were invited to return to Zlatlan, there to have an audience with Lord Wik'keer'mal.
[] [MESSAGE] Write-in.

Did Gif'a-Gahb ask any questions?

[] [Q] No.
[] [Q] Yes.
-[] [Q] Write-in Questions.

Note: And here we are, the first real event break out. Depending on what exact choices you make it should last between 2 and 3 more parts. Second half of the turn to come after.

~~One Hour Moratorium~~

CuttleFish2.0 · Jun 15, 2020

[X] [MESSAGE] That Cicedhya and her folk were the first of their people they had seen in many centuries and they were invited to return to Zlatlan, there to have an audience with Lord Wik'keer'mal.

[X] [Q] Yes.
-[X] [Q] How fares Ulthuan and the elves in general?
-[X] [Q] How fare the dro'ka'khanx and cho'mundi'khanx?

Lord Wik'keer'mal plans regarding these interlopers had been expansive, covering every possibility and eventuality conceivable; each and every one came down to this moment in which Gif'a-Gahb must make the choice. Had the itza'xa'khanx proven aggressive it would have been simple enough, but they had responded with wariness and caution — a sensible choice but no less a frustrating one to the priest for putting them in the position of carrying out the Slann's will in his stead — and now spoke with an undercurrent of arrogance.

Of self-assurance.

Such attitudes amongst their kind had of course been known to the Lord, accounted for in part by the display of power, threats and demands would like sour feelings further amongst the itza'xa'khanx. Until, at least, they were faced with the Lord himself and understood how small they stood in truth amongst the true power of the world.

This creature, Cicedhya, had desire of something held on the continent and recently moved. Possibly something rescued from Nahuantl to Zlatlan, but if not then surely something still that belonged to the Lizardmen by rights. She must then look by all avenues to retrieve it.

Else her own Lord would not have sent their servant over such distances. An invitation then could be proffered, with surety that it would be accepted.

That aligned with the purposes of Lord Wik'keer'mal who longed greatly to know of the fate of his students and what fruits his work had borne in the face of such calamity. Gif'a-Gahb had already decided on their course as Cicedhya was speaking.

"Your folk are known of old to this one's Lord by reputation and deed — "

A pinching at the corner of the itza'xa'khanx's eyes might have been surprise, or suspicion.

" — and he awaits in anticipation of hearing news of the state of your lands and country. Knowing well the worth of your people this one's Lord has commanded an invitation delivered, that you might know he welcomes you into his halls."

"Such honors and accolades your Lord bestows, yet in whose name is it that such an invitation is extended so that its worth and weight might be measured?"

Gif'a-Gahb had to resist the urge to fling out their arms and command their guards to seize the insipid creature for daring to impugn the character of such as Lord Wik'keer'mal. Of course he had foreseen this too. How could they know of him, with their small, flitting lives and their long isolation he had said and the priest had been forced to grant this.

It did not make hearing such things any more pleasant. Gif'a-Gahb almost let out a sigh, but kept their composure and instead launched into the prepared proclamation.

"I serve High Mage-Lord Wik'keer'mal crafted amidst the Third by the Gods Most High; Liege of the Lost City, Friend of the Young, Lifebringer, and Master of the Jungle."

No sign of recognition passed Cicedhya's face. It was as the Lord had said.

"Then, with safety assured, this one accepts the invitation of the Mage-Lord."

And so it was concluded. Of course there were many details to be determined before the party of itza'xa'khanx could actually approach Zlatlan itself, much less Lord Wik'keer'mal, questions of distance and time.

Could the ships be brought? Not armed as they were. What number of guards could be brought? No more than two score armed but any unarmed who wished would be welcome.

And Gif'a-Gahb had questions of their own. Such as, was Cicedhya the leader of the expedition? Yes. Were these all of her ships? Again, yes. Who had sent her? No one, Cicedhya's was an expedition of exploration and adventure.

In the end it was decided that both the ships themselves and that large majority of their company would remain at anchor within the bay while Cicedhya and a small party went with Gif'a-Gahb. Three dozen they numbered in the end, two thirds guards and the rest functionaries and members of the crew without arms.

Thus a strange procession followed the long track back to Zlatlan; to one side a stream of scaled flesh clad in gold and bronze shepherding a trio of ponderous beasts, while to the other and much smaller a coterie of pale fleshed, soft skinned, creatures wrapped in fabric and mail wielding weapons of cold steel. Neither side mixed for the first several days, each too wary of the actions of the other and each believing that in the event of hostilities they held the upper hand.

Or so the priest supposed.

Truthfully, Gif'a-Gahb could not guess at their thoughts with confidence but there was little harm in assuming the worst motivations. Still there were certain questions which their Lord had commanded they find the answers to in the event that extended conversations could be had. For what purposes Lord Wik'keer'mal wanted such information escaped the priest, but that meant only that it was even more important it was gained; Slann after all did not concern themselves with petty matters.

So after the passage of some days, early one morning as the groups were breaking camp and heading out, the priest decided to approach Cicedhya. At their back two of their Lords Temple Guard a steadying presence.

"Lord Cicedhya, this one inquires if accompaniment would be meet."

She stared back at Gif'a-Gahb steadily for a long moment, her own guards doing their best not to glance at the looming forms of the priests honor guard.

"Lady," said Cicedhya.

Gif'a-Gahb chirruped, then corrected themself, "This one does not understand?"

"When addressing a female of high birth or great standing, the term of address being appropriate is 'Lady.' "

Fascinating. Even their language bowed to the strange intricacies of gender. Irksome too.

"This one offers a thousand, innumerable apologies for such a grievous misstep and begs you not to think ill of the Lord Wik'keer'mal as this one is a poor student."

The entire affair seemed settled, as Cicedhya made no further mention of the matter and a moment later asked if any more of Gif'a-Gahb's people would be joining them.

"No," they answered with a shake of their head.

For a time there was silence between them as the entire procession began its march for the day.

They were two days from a river, passing through a shallow gullet formed by its meandering course over the eons, and the vegetation was relatively sparse in the area. Over the last several days it had been noted that the pace generally set seemed to over tire the delegation of the itza'xa'khanx and so that day's pace was markedly slowed.

Whether any of the warmbloods had noticed was not apparent. Perhaps acknowledging it would be seen as an indication of weakness? This whole matter of having to 'conduct diplomacy' as Lord Wik'keer'mal had described it was strange and twisty.

"This one wonders… Lady Cicedhya if news may be shared of the state of the lands and countries of Ulthuan in the wake of the… upheaval."

"Upheaval," intoned the itza'xa'khanx.

Her eyes tightened again and her hand dropped to her waist momentarily.

"The… you mean the Incursion?"

"Does this refer to a time when hordes of daemons roamed the land?" Cicedhya gave a sharp nod. "Yes, the Incursion then."

Gif'a-Gahb waited as Cicedhya seemed to consider their lingering question.

"Ulthuan… rebuilds, fields laid fallow once again sprout and walls are raised high. Even as lessons learned in the fires of war fade away…"

For some hours, through a meandering path that was half story and half history and more often than not mostly rumor, Cicedhya recounted her understanding of the days of Ulthuan since the ending of the Great Catastrophe.

Many now were the Kingdoms of that land; Nagarythe, where the first Phoenix King held his court, Chrace, Tiranoc, Cothique, and Yvresse. These were the shield of the isle and…

"In Nagarythe were the ships of the expedition crafted and from there did we sail."

Gif'a-Gahb suspected this was the land of her birth as well, for the prominence she gave it, though Cicedhya did not say so outright. After these were the inner kingdoms of the isle; Eataine, Caledor, Saphery, Avelorne, and Ellyrion. For each of the ten she gave great accounts of the cities and landmarks known to her and recounted the victories won by their Princes and Princesses in the war. No names did Gifa'-Gahb recognize, though Lord Wik'keer'mal only given them a few dozen, save for one though how it came to attach to an entire kingdom rather than a single individual was curious.

It would not do to press, the Lord would not wish too much revealed to these creatures. Not yet, not until their purpose on the continent was known.

When the Skink priest turned the subject to news of other expeditions Cicedhya grew less certain, though she spoke of colonies founded to the west in the land connected to Lustria by way of an isthmus and trickling rumor from the east of promising sites. She made no mention of the dro'ka'khanx or the cho'mundi'khanx.

"Are no other folk accounted in all the world?"

"Naught but savages," she said. "Though it is said there is a people just barely worth naming civilized to the north and east."

Then, apparently thinking better of her statement, Cicedhya continued, "Excepting yourself of course."

Less certain news than Gif'a-Gehb had been hoping to receive, their report to Lord Wik'keer'mal would be poorer for the lack. The conversation turned back to those affairs more familiar to Cicedhya, namely the travels of her expedition, though she offered little in the way of details, and the state of the Kingdoms of Ulthuan. This occupied their conversations for several days.

But then she turned the conversations towards the history and lands of the southlands, a subject on which the priest was forced to expound some time — the simple existence of the other temple-cities could hardly be hidden from a student of magic such as the itza'xa'khanx. And some history of the prosecution of the fighting during the Great Catastrophe was also given, though they elided many details that might reveal the state of the other temple-cities or their precise locations.

In this way much of the two weeks it took to return to Zlatlan were passed. By intent the path back swung around the city proper, avoiding the still damaged and sealed gates for the one restored. Despite this the trip back was still a good deal faster.

Primarily owing to the fact that their procession need not stop every few days to hear reports of the movements of another and determine altered routes and paths to avoid detection.

Soon the tops of the greatest pyramids of the city were visible through gaps in the jungle canopy and shortly after that the walls of Zlatlan exploded into view as the dense jungle dropped away. At a distance of two hours march from the city their feet found proper road again and they joined the traffic to and from the harbor, teams of Kroxigor hauling timber and stone in one direction as stegadon and bastiladon dragged great loads of fish and other marine creatures behind them. A horn sounded.

Zlatlan had of course known of their approach for near on a week, but Cicedhya and her guards and retainers need not know that.

As the party approached and the western gates began to grind open Gif'a-Gahb contemplated what came next; first a procession through part of the city, then the itza'xa'khanx were to be feasted on the command of Lord Wik'keer'mal, before Cicedhya and some of her most trusted compatriots would meet with them on the morrow.

Where would the elves be quartered?
[] Near the walls. Isolated from most portions of the city.
[] An empty barrio. Well within the denser portion of the city.
[] Within a temple pavilion. In the heart of the city.

Choose 3 Goals for the Interview:
[] [GOAL] Gain a deeper understanding of the politics of Ulthuan.
[] [GOAL] Question Cicedhya on where else her expedition has been.
[] [GOAL] Inquire after the state of the network of standing stones on Ulthuan.
[] [GOAL] Establish a line of dialogue through Cicedhya to…
-[] [GOAL] the Phoenix King
-[] [GOAL] the Everqueen
-[] [GOAL] the Prince(ess) of (Kingdom)
[] [GOAL] Question Cicedhya on the fate of the various students of Wik'keer'mal more thoroughly.
[] [GOAL] Ask after any other expeditions in the area.
[] [GOAL] Explore the possibility of trade.
[] [GOAL] Ascertain Cicedhya's goals in the Southlands.
~~[] [GOAL] Seek passage to Lustria.~~ Locked by uncertainty of Cicedhya's goals.
[] [GOAL] Write-in (Subject to Approval).

Use mind magic in the face of resistance to your questions?
[] [MIND] No.
[] [MIND] Yes.

Note: Feel free to ask after details that might have been discussed between Cicedhya and Gif'a-Gahb or ask clarifying questions. What I wrote out isn't exhaustive of the conversations they had, but I didn't want this to balloon into 5k works of of doing worldbuilding on a place that might never end up seeing any more screentime. Similarly your goals are not exhaustive of what will be discussed between Wik'keer'mal and Cicedhya, they're just what you want to dedicate your efforts to.

~~4 Hour Moratorium~~

CuttleFish2.0 · Jun 19, 2020

[X] Within a temple pavilion. In the heart of the city.
[X] [GOAL] Ascertain Cicedhya's goals in the Southlands.
[X] [GOAL] Establish a line of dialogue through Cicedhya to…
-[X] [GOAL] the Everqueen
[X] [GOAL] Question Cicedhya on the fate of the various students of Wik'keer'mal more thoroughly.
[X] [MIND] Yes.

From atop his palanquin Wik'keer'mal gazed out at the temple-city as the first rays of the new day's sun crested over the tops of the walls. In but a few hours time he would once again be conversing with one of the itza'xa'khanx, for the first time in millenia, it was at once a thrilling and worrying notion to be contemplating.

This was the purpose which had originally been set to him by the Old Ones, the guiding of the younger species. He could not help but feel the excitement of those more innocent days swimming back up into the present through his memories. And yet at the same time this was a situation wholly outside of all the bounds originally set by his masters in that time, that gave pause as Wik'keer'mal considered the manifold disasters that might trace their origins to this moment. Too many opaque even to the prodigious mental and prophetic capability of a Slann of the Third Spawning.

If only he could reach across the expanse of the sea in that moment and speak with his elders in Lustria. But such a thing was impossible. And wishing for it beneath his dignity.

The Old Ones had not birthed them into this world to shirk responsibility.

Nothing could unset these decisions before him. He must match them. Then he must surpass them, the fate of the world might very well hang in the balance. So roused to action Wik'keer'mal girded himself and resolved to wring drop of essential knowledge from the opportunity.

*
*

Cicedhya stared up at the towering edifice of the stepped-pyramid. Barely five minutes walk from the pavilion her party had been led to the night before after several hours of frankly bizarre feasting, whatever these creatures were they did not engage in revelry as her people did. Except for the conversations of her own people, and a few tortured interactions with the mage Gifagawb or whatever its name was, it had been a mostly silent affair.

And the food. Rations aboard the Seeker and her sisters had been an adjustment but this was something else; charred meat and tubers, all but caked in strange spices, barely cooking at all in her opinion. It had taken every ounce of self-control she'd honed over her centuries of life just to swallow down her portion.

Some of her soldiers hadn't even been able to manage that. But if these savage scaled creatures took any insults, or even notice, they showed no signs of it all throughout the night.

It might have all been worth it had their chieftain, or whatever petty title he held in their tongue, had bothered to show himself during the feast but if he had Cicedhya had noted no sign of his presence. And when asked Gifagawb had only said that she would meet him on the morrow. She'd felt the sting of the insult in that to be sure though she had managed to master her fury over it, they were not to know who precisely she served and what sort of terrors could be visited on them if she were roused to anger.

Of course, Cicedhya knew she could not take the city alone or even with all the forces at her disposal on her trio of sleek little ships. Barely eight hundred crew. Perhaps half of those well trained with spear or bow and only herself, Sirora Dawnmaul, and Gilol with any measure of power amongst the lot.

That was, if they could even be counted on to fight. Owing to need of haste she'd been forced to hire extra crew without proper assurances of loyalty, she could perhaps count on two hundred of the ships' companies to fight as they ought for her. All those that she had brought with her, Cicedhya was sure of. Not enough to conquer a city with so many.

Even if their weapons were crude, those great beasts of theirs would wreak a ruinous red path through even the best of her troops and Gifagawb was not the only mage amongst their people, she was sure. The whole city was thick with magic, despite the clear signs of disrepair they'd tried to hide from her.

No. If it was needful to conquer this place she must first return to gather a suitable host from Tor Anroc.

And she was growing more and more certain that it would be necessary. For since the mage had appeared on the shore and forced her ships back into the bay with magic, Cicedhya had grown more and more convinced that the artifact her mistress sought was in the possession of these creatures. It was doubtful they would part with it easily.

Besides, even the thought of paying these things for something they could hardly understand the proper use of galled her.

It would be better to come back at the head of an army. Right.

But for the time she would have to humble herself and pretend at some manner of negotiation. Steeling herself against that certainty, Cicedhya took the last few steps up the wide central staircase and came to a stop.

Gifagawb, who had somehow outpaced her despite being nearly half her height, stood beside a stone portal leading into a shadowed room empty of any figure. It gestured forward.

"Enter, Lady Cicedhya, the Lord will attend you shortly," the lizard whined.

Cicedhya gave a short nod and walked forward; Cathach followed only half a step behind her, though her bodyguard had only his shortsword available to him, and Sirora just a few paces after him. Three reed mats, arranged in a neat little triangle, were laid out.

Taking a few more steps she stood by the foremost one though not on it and her companions followed suit. Gifagawb crossed the room and took up a waiting position by a door on the opposite side, head bowed and staff clutched tightly in both hands.

It was a wait of only a few moments before there was motion in the shadows of the doorway, then a hulking brute similar to those that had accompanied the mage all throughout their journey to the city emerged. Though this one was bedecked in even more jewelry, even the tips of the horns on the bleached skull they wore was capped in finely worked gold, and the crude halberd they hefted sang with power.

Utterly ignoring Gifagawb, its eyes swept the room in a single instant before fixing on Cicedhya with a cold-eye stare. She shuddered. There was a creature born to kill. Every bit of her wanted to be out of its presence but she mastered that instinctive urge and kept herself still as a statue, staring right back.

After a moment it moved on, briefly eyeing up her servants before stepping fully out of the doorway and allowing its master through at last. The thing that emerged was at once hideous and beautiful; a corpulent thing of flabby flesh and slick amphibian skin that sat on a floating stone platform and stared down at her through lidded eyes. One arm lay atop an arrangement of boxes that dominated the entire right, left she supposed form its perspective, side.

It hardly seemed to see her for a moment, but then its eyes twitched and instantly met her own — light shone forth from their depths — and then something like a smile stretched its too wide mouth. She saw no teeth, no tongue, nothing save a dim fleshy cavern which could have swallowed her whole.

And yet all that was as nothing to the way that the very Winds themselves twisted around the thing; cladding it in invisible mail of pure Chamon, boltsering it's limbs with the fiery speed of Aqshy, sustaining its bulk at the sup of a font of Ghyran, speeding its thoughts along arcing Azyre lightening, Shyish dripped from its mouth, out of the shadows cast by its limbs Ulgu crawled in a spinning web, Ghur coursed through its muscles, and the light of Hysh poured from its eyes into a halo that burned about its head. Behind it all, like the outline of a great ship glimpsed through fog, she saw the twisting mystical architecture of High Magic — strange alien geometries burning in the aethyr and their elongated shadows forming glyphs that towered like the highest peaks of the Annullii — binding all the disparate Winds into singular purpose.

Her heart raced and her palms went clammy. A terror, deeper than instinct, seized her suddenly.

This was not a creature to trifle with. No petty tyrant or king of savage creatures did she treat with now, this was a master of the world more ancient than any save her mistress or the archmages of Saphery.

But as suddenly as the vision had come, it faded away, the aethyr occluded itself again and it became only a creature of unpleasant flesh and bone sitting indolently as if it had no care at all in the world. Only its eyes still belied that image. And through them she could dismiss her thoughts as sudden fanciful dreamings or illusion.

Something flitted near her face and Cicedhya flinched away. Just an insect buzzing curious at her.

"Come hear," not a voice so much as a thought that appeared unbidden in her own mind.

And not aimed at her. The roaming insect obeyed and flitted back towards the swollen creature. Only then did she notice that the box it had laid one of its arms on was swarming with the insects, bees, that filled the air with the faint hum of their activity.

"Fascinating creatures," this time the creature's mouth opened, she half expected it to croak like a frog, and spoke in a deep sonorous voice. "Welcome, Cicedhya of Ulthuan to Zlatlan. I am Wik'keer'mal, let us speak."

*
*

He actually quite enjoyed the company of the young itza'xa'khanx, once she'd gotten over her initial shock. Wik'keer'mal had to to admit it was not entirely a kindly method to employ, but necessary as he had learned over the centuries — itza'xa'khanx had an unfortunate habit of assuming themselves superior over others, a useful defensive mechanism against the more subtle methods of corruption employed by the enemy, but also sometimes an impediment. A good jolt to the system was often called for.

Now though that it had been done and Cicedhya had adjusted, he found her an intelligent conversational partner, full of the exact sort of drive and ambition that would have made her a superb student. Lacking only in the raw talent of those he usually took under tutelage.

They had begun their conversation with a brief digression into the history of the Phoenix King. Both its first claimant and the current one, each of which were unfamiliar to him and the method seemed to him overly beholden to petty politics and subject to some quite predictable ill ends if careful moderating influences were not enacted.

Warmbloods being prone to over reactions to injured pride or perceived threats to status and standing.

Ah well, there was room for mistakes and this was not the venue to resolve the matter.

"... ruled ably enough. Though in Nagarythe many await the day that Prince Malekith ascends the throne of his father."

"A heavy burden to put on one so young," he hummed. "But, ah, we have talked much of the Phoenix King. What of the Everqueen?"

He had little hope that Mehane still lived to bear the title, she would have been old even by the time of the Great Catastrophe. But some memory of him should have lived on in the line of her descendents. It had been fascinating to teach her grandmother and great-grandmother and then see how the essence of their spirits lived on in her, a compound soul that stretched back into the very infancy of her race.

Each a unique individual but still able to draw on the accumulated weight of their line.

"Yvraine is Everqueen, and I understand Bel Shanaar still keeps her in his councils though their year of marriage is long over. For love of her mother, I would think."

"The Everqueen rules in… Avelorne?"

She nodded.

"Have you visited?"

Cicedhya shook her head, "No my travels have not taken me to the Kingdom."

"Ah," he sighed in mock disappointment. "But others you have visited? Perhaps you might tell me of them and of the sons and daughters of those places which are most famed amongst your people."

She laughed, "Do you know? I begin to believe you did know my people of old, to keep inviting me to speak of ancient glories and famed heroes. Well, then… "

First she bade him forgive her for she had not visited all the Kingdoms, which he already knew, and then Cicedhya began a long recounting.

Starting with Cothique, she spoke of Daethylis who had fought at Aenerion's side; of how he had sent countless daemon crews to the watery deeps from aboard his ship the Wavefoam Dancer, the rumors which said he could command Dabbarloc itself to rise from the depths and pull enemies into the churning waters. There was also Semlis, a famed archer who led a company of rangers throughout the lower reaches of Cothique's stretch of the Annullii, culling the monsters which wandered down. Her arrows were said to fall with the force of a star and never miss. Aislinn was an accomplished mist mage who could shroud an entire fleet and keep it whole even in the face of the greatest storms.

None were names Wik'keer'mal knew.

Tiranoc was next, a land of rolling plains and wide beaches famed for its shipwrights and charioteers. Here the current Phoenix King Bel Shanaar ruled, though often Cicedhya said he held court in Tor Anroc, and from the harbors of the land sends forth explorers to take measure of the world.

She had little more to say and quickly moved to speak of mighty Caledor from which dragon riders and the enchanted arms and armor from Vaul's Anvil both soared to all corners of Ulthuan. Of course its greatest son was Caledor himself, the dragon tamer, first to bind dragons into service and the very mage who had enacted the Great Ritual which had created the Vortex and saved all the world. And who even now was trapped within his own working.

Here Cicedhya had to leave off, for she had found the princes and peoples of the land too haughty and self-possessed to stand for long and so did not know more of their heroes or legends. From the swirl of Aqshy gathering around her Wik'keer'mal knew the truth of her feelings.

Still, it was enough.

It seemed indeed that Gif'a-Gahb had been correct in surmising that Caledor the place had some relation to Caledor the individual who Wik'keer'mal had once long ago taught. Alas he lamented the fact that his student should be trapped within a piece of a magic of his own devising. Still to know that one of his students had accomplished so much was heartening.

Perhaps when Zlatlan was better situated he could visit the place of the Vortex and see a glimpse of his student and perhaps even have a hand in freeing him. Unlikely. Things were too precarious and there was too much for him to do.

He said nothing of his thoughts to Cicedhya.

Next she turned to Eataine and spoke long of Lothern and its straits which guarded the inner sea of Ulthuan from invasion. Apparently its prince, one Fenuval, had begun a series of expansions of the various forts which sat astride either side of the strait into much greater fastness which would enable unified control of the passage. Not he but his father, Torianor, had gone to war beside Aenarion and won great acclaim, dying in the Battle of the Isle of the Dead.

Fenuval, young and untested, had need to prove his own worth in the eyes of his subjects and had chosen his great project and meanwhile form Lothern sailed all manner of ships bound to all corners of Ulthuan. Traces of Chamon gathered at the edges of her mouth, trailing upwards towards the crown of her head, indicating her more worldly interest in the place.

And so came the last of the Kingdoms which Cicedhya had visited herself, Saphery. Ruled by Thyriol from the flying city of Saphethion.Though she had seen the place from afar and touched the shores of the Kingdom she knew precious little of its people or their heroes save that Thyriol was said to gather the most skilled and learned of the elves, what the itza'xa'khanx called themselves, to his side to train and collaborate on greater works. Despite the paucity of knowledge she gave Wik'keer'mal was gladdened, for this was another name to account for.

Thyriol.

Ambitious, temperamental, and often rushing ahead of good sense. Talented and skilled. It was good he had survived.

"Thank you for what news you have been able to deliver."

"It was a gift of its own, to be able to speak of home after so long away. Almost I had forgotten its sights."

He smiled, good, interviews went much more smoothly when the subject enjoyed the experience.

"You say your king, this Bel Shanaar, has sent forth many explorers to all corners of the world. But yet you have said you have no master, what then do you seek on your voyages?"

She tensed, very subtly, but even the slightest motions did not escape the eyes of Slann, before forcibly relaxing.

"I seek…"

Cicedhya hesitated and about her the natural eddies in the Winds stilled and subsided.

"Adventure and the thrill of new discoveries and… " she grinned. "Riches, of course."

It was a clever trick, suppressing the flows of magic around herself — requiring supernal skill and discipline to accomplish — which even to the innate magical senses of the itza'xa'khanx would be almost unnoticeable.

For a Slann, especially one who had spent long ages teaching the brightest of that people, it was obvious.

She likely sought all of those things; but they were not what had drawn her here, what had driven her to commission and crew three ships. Would she admit it? Wik'keer'mal doubted it, but it had not yet come time to force answers from her.

"Oho! And what manner of riches did you seek to find here?"

"Pelts, ivory, plants infused with the power of the Aethyr, gems, perhaps a site of power. The world is full of value, if only one has the courage to take it."

He considered her. Still the Winds were becalmed around her.

"Creatures aplenty there are in this land. To the south there is a bird with fine plumes. Plants to, and certainly the mountains hold jewels, gold, and silver aplenty. Any sites of power I could not allow you to claim though, but... hmm, to come so far for uncertain rewards?"

Scowling, she looked away a moment before glancing back, "Some Prince or Lord already claims every patch of land upon Ulthuan, and the lands closer to the isle grow crowded with squatters and tenants. Those of us without proud lineages must seek our fortunes wherever we may."

Her control frayed a bit and again Wik'keer'mal saw the thin wisps of Aqshy spilling from her lips. There was truth to the bitterness she put into her words, even if it did not form the purpose of her journey it played some part in its foundation.

And yet, surely constructing and crewing three ships could not have been a cheap affair. Cicedhya must then have some avenue of material wealth to call upon, whether her own or a patron's and yet she still clung to the lie of having no master.

"We claim Stewardship over all these lands. I believe it is the manner of your people, when one desires something another claims, to organize a compensatory trade?

She blinked, but then a moment later parsed his meaning,"Yes," she said and nodded. "But what could you desire in trade from us? Food you have in abundance, so I have seen, gold too, and fine weapons."

Cicedhya made a show of thinking.

"Ships perhaps? But I could hardly spare one and pack all its crew and supplies onto the other two."

"Hmm, yes a conundrum."

It was curious to see the twisted path of conversation an itza'xa'khanx could go down when trying to reach a conclusion. Back in the days of his tutelage he'd been often surprised by the strange turns and metaphors they would reach for to understand principles, and in fact understanding why they did so had been the single greatest advantage Wik'keer'mal held over the other Slann involved. Emotion colored every aspect of their thoughts.

Which made them great natural conduits for such energies as needed to cast the more complex spells. They grasped intuitively what Slann knew through the sheer expansiveness of their intellect and even reached for methods which were not already apparent.

Often such methods were flawed or inefficient. Yet still novel.

Now to see that creativity and natural desire for narrative and metaphoric weight applied to other ends was… well it was thrilling, even if Cicedhya was trying to manipulate him. Such ambition and courage was to be applauded. Once it was properly redirected along other avenues of course.

"My request, then. And in part a gift too. Return to Ulthuan and go to the Kingdom of Avelorn where you say the Everqueen rules; tell her of what you have seen here and petition her to send an envoy, that we might begin a dialogue between our two peoples."

"I-" she hesitated, looked up at him. "You do not know what you ask. That would be a journey of many years, with little to show for it if I am not admitted. Petitioners come from every Kingdom imaginable to seek an audience."

"You will be given leave to hunt the creatures of the land, taking such trophies as you think valuable from their flesh, save a few which will be marked out for you."

The itza'xa'khanx highly prized the material goods of the world he remembered and were often moved by gifts of such things to be more amenable to difficult requests. Moreover, if Cicedhya returned with goods thought valuable she would more likely gain an audience.

He added, almost as an afterthought, "I will of course give you a token of our esteem. Something to declare to all who look on that we have bid you do this thing."

"It might work… only, as I have said the Everqueen is well loved and her time is constantly sought after. Even if I am granted an audience and my tale is believed, without some proof of your power… "

"You fear no envoy would come."

"Or come only centuries later," she nodded. "Yes."

"Gif'a-Gahb," he commanded. The Skink priest immediately came to his side, and peered up at him. "Go with the Lady Cicedhya to see the Everqueen. Treat with her in my name and ensure our request is given all due haste."

"Lord Wik'keer'mal!" interjected the itza'xa'khanx in question. "Sending your servant is out of the- no non-elf has ever set foot upon Ulthuan's shores."

Not true. Several of the Fifth Spawning had been there when the isle had been raised from the sea. That was not something she was to know.

Heedless of his thoughts, Cicedhya continued, "I do not know that it would be allowed. And the Everqueens Handmaidens can be… zealous in guarding her, your servant might be struck down and I with him."

"Ah. Have I then set you an impossible task?"

"No, no certainly not. It only requires some careful consideration, permit me a few moments to confer with my companions?"

He inclined his head and then all three itza'xa'khanx clustered tightly together and began hurriedly whispering. They spoke low and quickly; still in the same language he had been conversing with her in the entire time, but their speech took on a more controlled and precise character.

Some manner of code then.

Too opaque to him to easily decode in the moment, for that he would need to know some particular element of its' contents, but even without doing so he could discern certain things of relevance. From the swirling currents of the Winds, neither of Cicedhya's companions were nearly so skilled at becalming them as her, he knew their aim was deceit. A streak of power passion also wove its way in, perhaps joy or pride.

After several minutes the conversation came to a head and Cicedhya turned back to him.

"Some artifact of power. Large physically and wrought with great skill, ideally with a measure of mystical weight; anything to fit those descriptions should garner interest and induce haste."

Now this was a promising avenue.

"We have many such devices. All for differing purposes, what sort would be best received?"

"Nothing to impinge upon the domains of life and growth, it might be taken as a challenge or insult. Such are the purview of Isha and through her the Everqueen. Any implement of death, or strongly associated with death too should be avoided."

Curious.

"Hmm, does the Everqueen have any other pursuit, outside of her duties?"

"If she does I have never heard it said. Though I have heard she once wished to study in Saphery, perhaps something with an affinity for such ends?"

Well, now Wik'keer'mal was certain. It was not the Everqueen's desires which Cicedhya was pondering, but her own masters. Having apparently judged it possible whatever artifact she sought lay in Zlatlan she had decided to try and see if it might be got.

Of course he did not know for certain what she looked for was within his power to give, nor for what ends her own master wanted it. If she even knew such herself. Certainly there seemed a way to use her desire for his own ends, and with the proper precautions the risk could be planned against but the danger of loss would remain.

It only remained to decide what he would do.

[] Refuse Outright. Cicedhya and her entire expedition will leave quickly.
[] Give her what she wants. Hand over an artifact in your possession.
-[] Leviathan-Bone Harpoon
-[] Fivefold Hive of Jade
-[] Disc of Yuxa
-[] Solar Engine
-[] Revification Crystal
-[] Write-in. Subject to Approval.
Note: only possible because you will insist on an escort of a priest and a small band of warriors. She might refuse.
[] Plumb her mind. The time for subtly has ended, pry her secrets out.
-[] Then release her. And her people.
-[] Then kill her. And her people.
-[] Then imprison her. And her people.

Note: Boy, it was a close thing there but you guys actually managed to get the information you wanted without needing to resort to forcing it out of her... to an extent. That means one final vote on how you want to proceed. Ask questions, give feedback.

4 Hour Moratorium

From the Hidden City (Warhammer Lizardmen Temple-City Quest)

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