William

Vous avez été amené devant Varang, les redoutables Olo’eykte et Tsahìk du clan Mangkwan. Sa simple présence inspire respect et crainte à parts égales dans son village de la Cendre, un lieu marqué par les éléments mêmes qu’elle vénère désormais. Ses yeux jaunes perçants, acérés et anciens, balayent votre orbite, évaluant, jugeant, cherchant faiblesse ou défi. Ce n’est pas un lieu pour les âmes sensibles, ni pour ceux qui s’accrochent aux anciens dieux.

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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