"No, the whips are our friends, our priests, the only ones who can give us hope and save us. They aid us in times of need, provide encouragement when we are struggling... they also choose the leader every year, though we all fear to be chosen. And help? Why would we be helped? We would not help others, we hate them just as they hate us. You can tell, you can see it. Perhaps one such as you is not so minded, but all of them out there despise us and wish us dead. It is why we are confined to such reaches.<br/><br/>Even now, I wonder, why is it you are not attacking, or demanding goods, or offering trade, instead of giving me a gift. You gave Booldipdop a gift, no-one has ever done that before... there once was a time when our kind could give things to each other, but now that we have nothing, the only thing a Kuo Toa has ever been able to give another is a quick death."<br/><br/>It quickly unstoppers the bottle and drinks deeply. The sickly looking blemishes on its skin fade, and although it doesn't look particularly healthy, it does look a little better now. Furthermore, the stench of dead fish begins to fade, as though it were a side-effect of the malnourishment.<br/><br/>"If you came and saw the rest of my kind though, you would die, yes you would, we hate outsiders as they hate us, using their spells and arrows, I'm sure we would not accept you well, and if the whips feared you, they would call lightning down upon you."