PROLOGUE

Quetzaltepec

A full five days after the battle, the city of Quetzaltepec still reeks of smoke, death, and ozone.  A particular metallic tang hangs in the air.  Spirit Warriors know it is a characteristic sign that god-weapons have been used.  Carrying only your war shield (as yet unadorned) and your war club - for it was these two items alone that you were permitted in addition to the clothes you wear - you walk through the city of the Feathered Serpents for the first time.

Nine days ago, immediately following their attack on the priesthoods of the other city states during the Ritual of Fire, Warrior Skins of the Jaguar Warriors descended on Quetzaltepec, along with those of their allies the Death Messengers and a large mercenary contingent of the Chichimecá.  The Feathered Serpents had fought bravely, but with the bulk of their forces, their patron deity, and their Reverend Speaker all far across the heavens in battle against the KreeSara, the outcome of the attack was never in doubt.  Resistance was crushed swiftly and decisively.

It was then that the Azteca learned that the Jaguar Warriors intended to fight a new sort of war against the Feathered Serpents.  Rather than demanding tribute, or occupying the city and setting up their own government, the followers of Tezcatlipoca set about to wipe Quetzaltepec from the face of Tamoachan forever.  Warrior Skins used their god weapons to reduce entire neighborhoods to ash and ruin, while powersuited warriors gathered up thousands for sacrifice to their god.  On the first day of the occupation one tenth part of the city perished.  On the second day it was the same.  Only the immense House of Darts, which held the forges, foundries and priesthoods dedicated to the construction and maintenance of the Quetzalcoatl's Warrior Skins and powersuits, was largely spared destruction.  Even here, however, the allies of the Jaguar Lord were hard at work, for the Death Messengers and the Dog People removed much of the sacred machinery to be carried back to their own people as tribute.

And so it seemed that Quetzaltepec would vanish forever under the destructive assault of Tezcatlipoca and his allies.  But the Jaguar God had not anticipated that others would be able to react so quickly as they did.  After the destruction wrought at the Ritual of Fire, Lord Fierce Mountain Lion - Reverend Speaker of Chantico -  believed that the other city-states would have the capacity to do no more than guard their own holdings.  Lord Fierce Mountain Lion was wrong.  On the third day after the battle, the sky filled with Warrior Skins the color of blue jade, and others as gray as the sea, as Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc sent their forces to challenge Tezcatlipoca.  Many of those who came to fight were no more than yaoquizque, some wearing their Warrior Skins for the first time.  For a day and a night the battle raged around Quetzaltepec.  First the Blue and the Gray were ascendant, then the Brown and the Black, and then once again the Gray and the Blue.  Matters remained in doubt until early on the second day of the battle, when the warriors of the Dog People changed sides and the Death Messengers, determining the battle to be lost, abandoned the field and returned to their own city-state of Tepeyolohtli.  With the loss of his allies, Tezcatlipoca was forced to disengage, leaving Quetzaltepec  to the Storm Warriors and those of the Hummingbird God.

Since that time the city has been occupied jointly by the forces of Cuauhtlicalli and Toxcatl.  Both have declared their continued support for Quetzalcoatl, but in fact the city - or what is left of it - is theirs for the moment, at least until the forces of the Feathered Serpent return in strength enough to garrison it once more.  Warriors and priests of the Death Messengers also returned to the city once the battle was concluded, and began the task of collecting the debris of war.  Such, they claimed, was their right, and none denied them, despite their treachery.

As you walk into the great House of Darts, you are surprised by how quiet it is.  Where there is usually the bustle and haste of the priesthood of Macuiltotec going about their rites and rituals, now there is only silence, for the warriors of the Jaguar God thought it fit that the priesthood of Macuiltotec be among the first to be sacrificed to their god.  The great shrines which in normal times held the Warrior Skins of the Feathered Serpents now lie empty, for their warriors are now far across the heavens.  Many of the shrines have been desecrated by the Death Messengers or the Dog People, for pieces lie broken across the floor, and great rents and holes expose their inner workings where some particularly prized piece has been removed.  With the priesthood of Macuiltotec gone, and the House of Darts looted, it may be a generation before the forces of the Feathered Serpent rise again.

Or perhaps not, for it is well known that the Huitznahua are powerful, and Quetzalcoatl foremost among them.

You make your way past the last of the shrines to the Warrior Skins, and down a flight of stone steps to the smaller bay where the powersuits are kept.  It is here that you were commanded to go by the priests of your particular city-state.  It is here that you will meet the others consecrated to Yoali Ehecatl.  It is here that your powersuit awaits you.

At the foot of the stairs is a single, large room.  There are no powersuits in evidence, but there is a low table on which are set various foods - corn tortillas, flour pancakes stuffed with tadpoles and peppers, roasted sweet potatoes, broiled squash, roasted frog, ground sage porridge, broiled rabbit, ripe tomatoes, tamales filled with vegetables and fish, and a large bowl of steaming hot chocolate with a pot of honey nearby.  Plates, bowls, and appropriate cutlery are all laid out, and the items are still hot (those that are supposed to be hot, anyway) though there are no servants to be seen, nor are there any other exits to the room save the stairs you just came down.  There appears to be enough food for six generous portions.  This impression is reinforced by the fact that there are six cushions on the floor.  The room is lit with several small suns, gifts of the Huitznahua, which are stuck in the ceiling.

The Servants of Yoali Ehecatl

A young woman walks in, wearing the garb of a yaoquizque [novice warrior]: no feathers decorate the green shield on her left arm, although it has received some recent dents and gashes.  She is dressed in green and red; she exhibits the relatively strange flattened features and dark skin of the Dog People, marked with symbols in yellow, red and white paint.  Her hair is long, but plaited in a multitude of braids with beads and feathers woven in.  The feathers are small ornamental things, not warrior feathers.  Her war club is resting on her right shoulder.  She looks wary, but her step has spring in it as she approaches the inner shrine of the Warrior Skins.

She pauses at the entrance, taking in the scene, before stepping down the last few stairs.  She seems a little disappointed at first, but the expression of dismay swiftly disappears from her face.  She walks over to one of the cushions, places her shield and weapon next to it, then walks over to the table.  She takes a plate and starts loading generous helpings of the various foods laid out onto it, pours herself a bowl of hot chocolate, then takes the whole mess back with her.  She sits on the cushion and starts devouring without ceremony.

A tall man descends the stairs, dressed in black, from his leggings and close-fitting warrior costume to his hooded cloak. On his face he wears a golden mask in the shape of a human face. The expression seems perfectly neutral.  At the foot of the stairs, he pauses momentarily to take in the girl, obviously (to him, at least), one of the Dog People.

The young woman pauses in the midst of licking her fingers and looks up at him.  Her eyes widen slightly at the sight of his unusual garb.  Her gaze follows his movements as he walks in.

He continues across the floor, his stride graceful and strong, his body lithe rather than muscular, his posture perfect. He nods once to the girl, then places his own shield and club next to hers, and helps himself to a plateful of food and bowl of hot chocolate.  Crossing over to the girl, he sits on a nearby cushion, cross-legged, his back still rod-stiff. Placing the plate on the floor, he spoons small portions onto a tortilla, folds it delicately, and lifts it to his mask.  "I am Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia [Tethered Owl]¹," he says in a deep, quiet voice. He lifts his mask slightly and takes a small bite of the tortilla.

The young woman raises her left  hand (the right one is currently holding half of a roasted frog, dripping with pepper sauce, near her mouth) and gives a sort of wave.  "I'm Xoco [Youngest Sister]," she says, still chewing a bit.  She hesitates for a second, then adds: "Xoco Necahual [Youngest Sister Left Behind]." She looks down at the roasted frog and takes another hearty bite, the red sauce staining her fingers and face.

She is rather attractive for a Chichimec, but her table manners could bear some improvement.

Xoco and Tecolotl hear footsteps coming down the stairs.  A tall, muscular, graceful woman steps into the room.  On her head is a headdress of brilliant iridescent blue feathers, accented by yellow and orange feathers.  A long beak extends from the front of the headdress, making her head look like that of a bird.  As if to complete the illusion, her robes are a blue jade color, as is her shield.  Her shield and the war club she carries in her right hand seem to be more extensions of her arms than equipment she is carrying. She looks about the room as she enters, and her eyes narrow as she sees the two seated on their cushions.  Three deep scars run along the left cheek of her face, barely missing her eye, as if she had been clawed by an animal.  Her fingers tighten around her club, and she walks over to the food.  She moves around so that the table is between her and the two seated warriors.  Leaning the club against her leg to free her hand, she moves a plate near her and begins to sample some of the foods to determine if they are worth putting on the plate.  Every minute or so she looks over at the warriors, as if to make sure they have not moved since she last looked.  Holding the plate with the free fingers of her left hand, she picks her club back up and walks over to the cushion farthest from the two warriors, watching them as she goes.  She sits down gracefully for having her hands full and attention distracted.  She lays the club and shield down within easy reach, shifting the plate between free hands, and begins to eat, watching the two warriors.

"Greetings, feathers," says the Chichimec, waving a frog leg in a friendly gesture.  "I'm Xoco, and this is Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia."  She waves in the black-clad man's general direction with the frog leg, then takes another bite.

"I guess you must be here to, hmm, to serve Yoali Ehecatl, uh?"  she asks, still chewing.  She glances at one, then the other, with undisguised curiousity, a hint of wariness, and a slight smirk.

A flash of horror and anger flicks through the Hummingbird Warrior's eyes, then is gone.  She stops eating, setting the plate aside for a moment.  She wipes her mouth, and smiles wryly, the scar slightly lopsiding her grin.  "You are half right," she says to Xoco, with a tone of voice used for children, "I am Centehua Matlalihuitl [Only One Blue-Green Feather].  And yes, I am here to serve Yoali Ehecatl, though it is obvious he does not choose his subjects based on their manners."

Xoco's minimal smirk turns to a sardonic grin at the comment.  "I couldn't agree more," she says sweetly -- still chewing.

Centehua looks over to Tecolotl and, adopting a more formal tone of voice, says "What about you, Death Messenger? Is there life behind your mask, or is your tongue tethered too?"

Before Tecolotl can answer, another warrior arrives.  He does not speak at first, but his presence still draws attention as he is one of the biggest men anyone is likely to have ever seen, filling the doorway.  He stands for a moment in silence, eyes flickering over each of the seated warriors and the food before them.  His clothing is simple and gray, with a few lightning bolt designs which appear to have been rather inexpertly added.  The only other hint of decoration is a bracelet with a piece of turquoise and designs which are too delicate to be easily visible.  His shield appears remarkably untouched, though his club is well worn.

Finally, he speaks, carefully and formally.  "Greetings.  I am Nochehuatl [Consistent]."  His voice is very low, rumbling.  "I see you've already begun."  Apparently not feeling that this statement of the obvious requires an answer, he steps over and begins piling food on a plate.  A lot of food.  Finally, he sits down heavily next to Centehua and begins to eat heartily.

Centehua smiles as she watches Nochehuatl sit next to her.  "Greetings, Nochehuatl!  I am Centehua Matlalihuitl." Xoco and Tecolotl notice that Nochehuatl got a much warmer reception from her than they did.  "Our other friends here are Xoco and Tecolotl," she says, gesturing over to the other two warriors with her wry grin again.  "Tecolotl was about to speak, no?"

"My tongue is not still, Hummingbird Warrior.  I am Tecolotl Quiteteuhilpia, and I am pleased to meet you."

"I wish I could say the same, Tecolotl. It is duty for me, not pleasure."  Centehua picks up her plate and begins to eat again, her eyes drifting from person to person.

Xoco finishes wiping her hands on a towel (yes! she knows enough not to use her sleeve - or somebody else's!), and waves at the Toxcatli as cheerily as she waved at the others.  She appears determined to ignore political matters altogether.  "Greetings, Nochehuatl."

She reaches for her bowl of hot cocoa and sips from it without slurping at all, drinking with exaggerated daintiness.  But as she puts the bowl down after a good swig, a nice thick cocoa mustache decorates her upper lip.  She smirks at the refined Centehua, and licks the cocoa off.

"Were you chosen to serve Yoali Ehecatl because of your good manners?" she asks the Storm Warrior with a straight face.

Centehua stops eating for a second and sighs.  "The sacrifices we must make for Yoali Ehecatl..." and she mutters what could possibly be a prayer as she starts to eat again.

A tall, muscular man strides confidently through the doorway.  While not as large as Nochehuatl, his bronzed skin and chiseled features make him worthy of notice.  The green-and-black-feathered cape and jaguar-head headdress along with the stripes of paint on his face complement his figure nicely, while the large, toothed obsidian war club strapped to his back atop the cape adds a hint of menace to a man who might otherwise be a bit too pretty.

He stops for a moment just inside the doorway, his dark eyes taking in the assembled group and the table of food as a slight smirk crosses his face.  Then, completely ignoring the food, he finds a cushion and sits cross-legged slightly apart from the rest.

Centehua, just finishing the food on her plate, stiffens at the sight of the warrior in the doorway.  Without taking her eyes off of him as he finds a cushion, she sets the plate down.  "Well, well, well," she sneers, fire building in her eyes, "look what blessings Yoali Ehecatl has given us. It is nice to see that the blood of betrayal has washed off so easily, Jaguar.  Shame that you did not leave any mirrors in this place for you to admire yourself in."  She stops for a moment, looking at the table of food, and then back at him.  "What is wrong warrior?  Is your belly still too full of your treachery?"  She smiles at him, very unlike a bird and much more like a cat.

The Jaguar waits patiently until the woman has finished, then says, "I'm sorry, I was under the impression that I was to attend a grouping of the servants of Yoali Ehecatl, not a feast.  If it is deemed impolite that I refrain from gorging myself while meeting my comrades, I apologize."  He smiles back at her, as one would to a young child.  "Perhaps if I am hungry later I can flush some small game out of the bushes.  I enjoy hunting.

"I have no need of mirrors currently, though if you like I will see if I can find one for you later since you seem to want for one.  And, as for my betrayal, I would very much like to know what this warrior of Yoali Ehecatl has done to you.  If you bear a grudge that you deem serious enough then you are more than welcome to share it with me and my war club at a more appropriate time."

He looked around at the other warriors, and bowed as much as possible from his seated position without it looking awkward.  "As for the rest of my new comrades, I am pleased to make your acquaintance.  I am Yaotlquauhtli [War Eagle] and I for one am quite pleased to see the blessings Yoali Ehecatl has given us."  He glanced back at Centehua and smiled again.  "Within reason, of course."

Nochehuatl frowns as Centehua reacts to the arrival of Yaotlquauhtli.  His frown only gets deeper at the latter's response.  He sighs deeply, but waits for them to finish, then clears his throat.  "Whoever we have been in the past, and whatever our homes may have done, we are now all in the service of Yoali Ehecatl.  We will have only each other to depend on, only each other to watch our backs.  Squabbling on first meeting is hardly a good omen for our futures...  So, you won't be eating, Yaotlquauhtli?"

Even as he finishes speaking, Nochehuatl is headed for the food again, refilling his plate generously.  He is careful to leave enough for the sixth person he expects, though that person will not be able to eat as well as Nochehuatl has.  "I'm Nochehuatl, by the way."  He starts to gesture towards the others as though to start introducing them, then suddenly gets an uncertain look on his face and doesn't say anything else.  Instead, he starts eating again to cover his moment of confusion.

Centehua laughs aloud.  "Your tongue is befitting of your looks, Yaotlquauhtli.  You represent the Chantico well.  I would have expected nothing less."  She looks at Nochehuatl and smiles. "I apologize for my outburst," then looks back at Yaotlquauhtli, her smile slightly diminished.  "I have no quarrels with you if you truly serve Yoali Ehecatl. As for meeting you and your club," her smile widens, "you certainly know how to tease a Hummingbird, don't you?" Her eyes flash with the idea. "Ah, but that is fitting for a cat, isn't it?"

"Oh, but where are my manners?" Centehua says, looking to Xoco as she says 'manners'. "I am Centehua Matlalihuitl." She turns back to Xoco with a smile. "I think I shall let our Manners Warden introduce herself."

Xoco observes the exchange between Centehua, Yaotlquauhtli, and Nochehuatl with interest, and her face gradually takes a new, intent expression.  Having finished her food, she wipes her hands and face one last time, then stands up in one smooth motion, without perhaps the grace of the Jaguar or the Hummingbird, but with a hint of underlying  restless energy.

She inclines her head in the direction of Centehua, then Yaotlquauhtli.  "I am Xoco Necahual.  I wish you all to know that I have brought no quarrels to this meeting, although some say I am always able to create new ones."  She grins, flashing very white teeth that contrast sharply with her dusky complexion, then regains her serious expression.  "Everyone knows the Chichimecá are claimed by no god and by all, so that our only loyalties are to ourselves.  I come now to serve Yoali Ehecatl, with no oath to another god to conflict with this one."

She pauses, makes eye contact with each of them in turn, struggling most with the unreadable expression behind Tecolotl's golden mask.

"We may have resentment for other cities, and we may think they are enemies.  But I may be the only one here who has met the KreeSara, and I say to you: I know who my enemy is, and I long to spill his blood.  My enemy is not in this room."

She bows to them with her right fist on her left shoulder, like a warrior saluting one of higher rank.  Then, perhaps to hide her self-consciousness, she abruptly turns back to the bowl of cocoa and pours herself another bowl, seemingly paying great attention to the task.

"Well said, Xoco," comments the Jaguar Warrior.  "Well said indeed.  Knowing your allies and enemies is perhaps the most valuable lesson we can learn," Yaotlquauhtli glances at Centehua,  "Though such tenuous relationships are rarely obvious or without overlap.  I, too, know that my true enemies are not in this room, but I also wish it known by all that I do not hesitate to defend myself when attacked."  Then he smiles again, this time a bit more genuinely.  "In any event, I have no intention of beginning such an auspicious occasion under a cloud of ill will.  Centehua, you are forgiven for your outburst, but if you still wish to meet my club later you should probably be aware that I rarely tease."  Turning to the others, he says to the room in general, "You know, you'd be amazed at how often I get that reaction from women..."

Centehua, who has been listening intently, turns to Xoco and smiles a genuine smile.  "Just as you were not chosen for your manners, I was not chosen for my even temper."  With that, she gets up with the grace and fluid motion of a bird and walks over to the table.  She pours cocoa into a cup, and picks up a knife.  "May it be said that I have no bitterness left in my tongue or my blood."  She sticks out her tongue and slashes it with the knife.  Setting the knife down, she picks up the cup of cocoa, takes a swig, and spits the mixture of blood and cocoa into a nearby bowl.  She holds up the cup of cocoa, looking to the heavens.  "May we be victorious in our battle! May the heavens drip with the blood of the KreeSara as a sacrifice to Yoali Ehecatl!"  With this, she mutters a prayer, and drinks the rest of the cocoa, clutching the cup with both hands.

When she finishes the drink, setting it down, she turns to Yaotlquauhtli with a sly smile.  "Since you are as fond of your war club as I am, how about a little wager?  I bet I can kill more KreeSara than you."  She walks back over to her seat, and sits down with the same grace as before.  She smiles, waiting for the answer.

Dinner Interrupted

Before further banter can occur, further footsteps are heard on the stairs, and two individuals step into the room.  The first is an older woman, perhaps forty-five years old.  She wears a headdress and cape of raven feathers, a loincloth, and sandals.  Her bare chest², arms, legs, and midriff are all well muscled, though covered here and there with warrior scars.  Three vertical slashes, similar to those of Centehua Matlalihuitl, are visible on her left cheek and are accented with white paint.  Her lower lip is pierced, and the head of a serpent, done in gold, protrudes from it.  She carries no war club, but does carry a shield with numerous feathers of valor attached.  Most are green, indicating that the award was won while operating a powersuit, but a few are white, indicating that they were won while piloting a light mech.  What draws the eye of every young warrior in the room, however, is the single black feather, with a smaller white feather attached, surrounded by leather thongs hung with bits of jade and bone which call attention to it.  The black feather is only awarded to those who win valor in a superheavy mech, and the smaller white feather indicates that the bearer was granted membership in the Ocelot Knights, the most prestigious of military orders in the Spirit Warrior Empire!  Aside from the many feathers, the shield is decorated with bits of blue jade forming a hummingbird against a green background.

Even interest in the black feather dwindles to nothing, however, when the second person steps into the room, for all young warriors know him well - he is Huemac, the First Priest of the Huitznahua and the Historian of the Gods!  None of the warriors know Huemac well enough to talk to him, though in general he is known to remember every person he has ever met, so they would be very surprised if he didn't know them all by name.  Huemac is known to be bluff and plainspoken, but he is so far outside of their social class that instigating conversation would be considered extremely rude.

When the Huitznahua first claimed the Tolteca as their own, Huemac was the first of their chosen.  He is widely believed to be the best pilot to ever operate a Warrior Skin.  Sometime, long ago, before the Azteca came to Tamoachan, Huemac earned the displeasure of the gods (details are cloudy - mere rumors).  For his punishment he was made immortal, and given the task of training new warriors, and of maintaining the history of the Spirit Warrior Empire.  Since that time no group of warriors has undergone training in powersuit or Warrior Skin operation without his guidance.  He is only one man, so he cannot oversee the complete training of every warrior.  But is is Huemac who speaks to each group of trainees of the history of the War in the Heavens; it is Huemac who introduces all students to their powersuits and Warrior Skins for the first time; and it is Huemac who teaches all warriors of the dangers of the Heart of Jade that powers each powersuit and Warrior Skin.

Huemac is dressed simply in a short-sleeved shirt and pants.  He wears a necklace of gold accented with blue cotinga feathers.  He wears a single ring piercing above his right eyebrow.  He carries a war club and a shield, both oddly undecorated.  Even more strange, the stone spikes of his war club are made of a milky white stone rather than the black obsidian usually utilized.  Several more stones of this color, these highly polished to a pearly sheen, are the only adornments on his otherwise empty shield.  He is well muscled, and looks to be around 30 years old.

As Huemac enters the room, the woman turns to look at him.  "There are two missing, not one" she says accusingly.  "Already we are without an Iyac, now this?  I am of a mind to disband this war party entirely and scatter them all among the others - there is bad luck here."

Huemac merely shrugs, as if to say "do as you think best", then places his war shield and club against a wall, folds his arms, and observes.  The woman watches him for another moment, as if looking for a sign, then sighs and turns to face the group.

"I am Centehua, High Priestess of Yoali Ehecatl.  I bid you welcome to the service of Lord Night Wind."

Young Centehua Matlalihuitl rises off of her cushion, in great respect of those present.  All emotions have been wiped from her face, all her focus on the two "elders". Her movements make her look as if gravity is not present to disrupt or hinder their flow.  She steps away from the cushion, salutes, and kneels, lowering her head to honor the high priestess and historian as they deserve.

Xoco's eyes sparkle with excitement when the august visitors stride in.  Her whole body tenses with barely suppressed anticipation.  She can almost see those feathers of valour on her own shield, some day...  Following Centehua Matlalihuitl's lead, she makes obeisance to the visitors.  She drops to one knee and places her right palm on her left shoulder, head bowed low.

Nochehuatl is a little slow to notice the arrival of the visitors, continuing to eat for several moments after the others have stopped.  He suddenly freezes, and his eyes dart about as the others kneel or bow.  After a couple of seconds of this, he carefully puts down the tamale he had apparently been about to swallow whole, stands, turns, bows, and finally kneels, joining the majority.

Tecolotl stands and bows proudly to the High Priestess and her consort, without speaking.  He then sits again, respectfully, his back still rod-straight.

Centehua motions for all present to rise.  "It is usually the custom for young yaoquizque such as yourselves to be led by an iyac of promise who has had some experience in the field and has shown initiative and courage.  We had selected one such for this group - a Feathered Serpent who has served Yoali Ehecatl well for several years now."

She frowns.  "Unfortunately, the iyac selected for your group attended the Ritual of Fire, and was killed when the servants of the Jaguar Lord disrupted the ceremony.  Thus did your war party lose its first member before it even formed.  In addition, a member of the Way Bringers  - Chipotle - was assigned to this war party, but never arrived.  I do not know what has happened to him, but it appears that your war party will have suffered grievous losses before ever it has met the enemy.

"Nonetheless, it is my decision that this war party will not be disbanded, despite the poor omens that surround its creation.  There does remain, however, the matter of determining who will lead."

Huemac speaks for the first time, "Tlatchtli," he says quietly, "you people decide everything with tlatchtli."

Centehua turns and frowns at the Toltec for a moment, then returns her attentions to the group of yaoquizque.  "Before we go further, do you have any questions, yaoquizque?"

Xoco's ears prick up.  She raises her eyes to meet the priestess's glance, the beads in her hair clicking against one another.  "Honoured priestess, do I understand correctly that one of us is to be leader, then?" she asks, her voice vibrant with excitement.  "Any of us?"

"That is correct."  Noting that there appear to be no more questions, the priestess nods her head.  "Very well, then all that remains is to determine which of you will lead.  Please follow me."  She turns and heads towards the stairs.

The younger Centehua Matlalihuitl also rises, her movements calculated and precise.  "Will we need our clubs and shields?" she asks.

The priestess smiles slightly.  Huemac just shrugs.  "I think not," he says.

Tethered Owl sits, impassively as ever, and silent as stone.  His mind thinks of the omens that have foreshadowed this event, and wonders what it all bodes.  "I simply means we must be stronger," he decides within himself.  "For each number we are not provided, we must make up the difference within ourselves."  He looks about the room and wonders if the others are up to the task.  Some of them certainly seem to be able to eat enough to make up the difference...
 

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