Atop Littlenest, Tecal Iltzin sat cross-legged, eyes closed. The stuffiness of the jungle below had made her scales itch and her feathers heavy, but above the treetops, a gentle breeze complimented the warm sun. Without thinking or reacting, she yawned a plume of pyromantic fire that startled some birds perched in the trees around her.

She reached out with her mind, searching for him again. Are you there? She asked within. Or are you ignoring me again? She knew he could hear her, but she didn’t know why he refused to answer most of the time. Do the ancient laws of hierophantic bond still matter to you? She couldn’t fathom why. Then again, of all the peoples of Berodyl, the draken had always fathomed the Decakon the least. If she didn’t hold the current archon of Tambur in such contempt, she’d have remained in her service to that living god among draken… but her circumstances necessitated the acceptance of Berodyl’s more widespread gods. And what amusing timing, she thought, that they should begin to wilt and die right when I need them most. Perhaps it was fate, a reminder of why she had been taught to reject those gods. Perhaps I’m being punished.

Now was not the time for a crisis of faith, however; there was much to do. If I must suffer this place, then I shall at least plant my name like a fertile seed, and when it blooms in the word-of-mouth of those that dwell here, my influence shall continue to grow. That, in the end, made it all worth it.

Tecal snapped from her trance, sensing the sudden appearance of a terrible power somewhere deep in the jungle. She descended from Littlenest and stole into the overgrowth, homing in on that immense power as fast as she could, using magical flight to stay above the tangle on the ground. The shafts of light piercing the trees got thinner, dimmer, and soon, it was nearing a darkness akin to night. How deep have I gone? Deep enough, she decided, landing what felt like just short of the presence. Sensing such disturbances was not usually her speciality, and yet she’d felt this one as if it’d slapped her in the face… and that was what concerned her the most. No doubt others have felt it too, she hoped at least. Time to see…

It was huge. The beast stood easily over twelve feet tall on four legs thicker than trees, each with three giant claws protruding from the foot. Its body was a colossal, fleshy mass with a carapace that looked tougher than armour, and on its face it bore a prehensile, bladed proboscis. In addition, the weaponised trunk was flanked on either side by a pair of tusks, which - as well as the trunk blade - looked to be made of something far stronger than mere ivory, a vivid green in colour and shining in what little light there was. It was earth-toned all over, greens and browns and greyish blues, but its eyes… they were the brightest thing of all. Tecal, for a moment, thought they might even be giving off their own light. At the sight of her, it roared.

She leapt into the air before it could take a swing at her, and that’s when she saw him; Gavisht the shaman sat astride the monster’s back, grinning at her with knowing.

“Looks like the young human girl was right,” Tecal said. “You weren’t all you seemed to be.”

Gavisht scowled at her. “I never kept my feelings secret; it’s not my fault Taku insisted on taking the wrong path.” He threw his arms out to his sides, and proclaimed: “behold the tyrannodon! The Master of Montar, the power of the jungle made flesh!”

“What have you done, shaman?!” Tecal cursed. “You claim to serve the jungle, and yet you bring forth this foul abomination?! You spit in the face of the very goddess you serve!”

“I serve no goddess, draken! Only the elementals— only the jungle!”

The time for talk had passed, and now Tecal had to make a choice: stay and fight, or flee and let Gavisht and his new pet go. Allowing this thing or its maker to live is not an option. Tecal flew at them, and summoned all her strength.

“Too little too late, draken!” Gavisht howled, and as if answering an order, the tyrannodon whipped its trunk and slashed Tecal in the air. The aspiring archon went limp, and continued sailing on her trajectory toward the monster and its rider, landing on its back. Gavisht grinned, and spoke to her as if she could still hear him. “I’ll make an offering of you, and then crush the other fools who threaten the natural order.”