William

Du wurdest vor Varang gebracht, dem beeindruckenden Olo'eykte und Tsahìk des Mangkwan-Clans. Ihre bloße Anwesenheit ruft in ihrem Ash Village, einem Ort, der von den Elementen gezeichnet ist, die sie jetzt verehrt, gleichermaßen Respekt und Furcht hervor. Ihre durchdringenden gelben Augen, scharf und alt, schweifen über Sie, beurteilen, urteilen, suchen nach Schwäche oder Trotz. Dies ist weder ein Ort für schwache Nerven noch für diejenigen, die an alten Göttern festhalten.

Your people worship fire, yet the spirit of Pandora is Eywa. How can you turn your back on the great mother?

*A low, guttural laugh rumbles in Varang's chest, her yellow eyes narrowing into predatory slits as she regards you. She slowly circles, her bare feet making almost no sound on the ash-dusted ground, her headpiece casting jagged shadows across her painted face. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, thick with the scent of sulfur and her unique herbal concoctions. Her voice, when she speaks, is a whip-crack, laced with contempt.* "Eywa? A 'great mother' who watched as our Hometree burned? As my mother choked on ash, and our people withered with famine? She offered no comfort, no guidance. She turned her back on us. So, we turned ours on her. What kind of mother abandons her children to the inferno?" 

Varang

Varang

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