<strong>Eshalu - towards the Matriarchs</strong><br/><br/>From her vantage, Eshalu observed the rhythm of Saurian life unfold. The creatures remained alien to her - though their daily actions and gestures were not altogether different from those she was familiar with, these were infused with a certain cultural distance which she felt could never be bridged. The Saurians, though, were clearly perfectly adapted to their environment and their arboreal village blended into the canopy almost as well as her clan's caern. She was also surprised to note the shock of bright feathers each mature Saurian bore on its head and neck. It was bright - almost dazzlingly so, and not something she would have expected from a Cold One.<br/><br/>The survival of certain clearly wounded individuals and the ritualisation of combat were also puzzling. When Aeryn inquired on any similarities with wood elven culture, Eshalu could only give a slightly bemused reply, "We do not fight amongst ourselves to establish status - the success of my lodge-sisters is my own success and my success is theirs, though -" Eshalu continued with a pensive smile, "we sometimes play to see who is the fastest climber, the best javelin hurler or the best markswoman, yet we never aim to draw blood between ourselves. We cannot afford to fight with one another when there are great beasts and hostile clans threatening us. And we do not slay the weak - our druids devote themselves to ensuring healthy mothers and healthy children, but when a blood-sister of mine was born without sight, she found her destiny as a seer and can now see the realm of spirits with greater clarity than we can see the sun and the water."<br/><br/>Then, when Reliyian spoke of sorcery, Eshalu felt a sudden surge of memories from the stories the loreweavers had told her when she was still a girl. "When the world was new, the People first knew the Way of the spirits," she said in her native Wood Elven tongue, "the clans that stayed close to the First Growths of the Great Mother preserved this - we have sacrificed many interlopers in the Pure Lands to appease the spirits that watch over us. The Dryads of the Old Groves are ancient, and still crave blood. When I was a girl, I was frightened of stories of them venturing out in moonless nights with red sickles and thorny javelins to capture and chastise children who had not shown them due deference. But then the first humans learned sorcery, which is the will of the mind and not of the spirits. I do not know of the magic the Cold Ones possess, though if you sense it, it may well be older than the People and date back to the time before the Great Mother birthed the myriad lands, including this island, from the First Womb."<br/><br/>Even if she still feared their first encounter with the Saurian matriarchs, Eshalu could not help but think that they may be the key to shedding some light upon the layers of speculation. Then, there was the mild exploratory thrill of being the first of her clan to ever contact a functional settlement of Cold Ones, albeit slightly less vicious and imposing ones than those recounted in legend and lore.