Shouting With Iron

"There are some tribes forbidden to look upon the faces of their gods. So weak are they that to see their gods whole would shatter their minds. Not so the Grinning Tempest. We are strong, and so our god can walk among us. Do not look at him, children, without thinking how much greater than a man he is. Look up and see his height, look across and see his mighty thews. Pray to him that he will give you a feather from his back to protect you. See his club of war and know that you shall never lift it, see his silver armor, his gift from the Prince of the Northern Jungle, and know that it shall never grace your shoulders. We are weak compared to him, but do not forget that we alone among the Hill Tribes can even look upon our gods face - that we alone among the Hill Tribes are strong."

-- Nine Eagle, shaman of the Grinning Tempest tribe of Hill People

Many Moons Ago

"Of course I knew it would mean my life to call him down from the boiling skies. It is not for mortals to bind gods to our will. But what else could I do? The Arczeckh horde had swept up from the southeastern jungle, with their gibbering madness and ragged claws. I saw the great cities of civilization crumble before them, I saw Hill Tribes scatter around me. Shouting With Iron captained the lightning against our attackers, his liegeman birds clawed at their eyes, our warrior's arms filled with his strength. My son survived the day; I do not regret my choice.

"Though I stood facing him, I do not remember the blow that split my skull. Death is the great divider and the moment of crossing has been lost to me. But I linger on as a shade of myself, an honored ancestor to my people, even though my sons and grandsons, sacrified to our god's hunger just as I was, have faded from all memory save mine."

-- Three Wing Seer, Honored Ancestor Spirit of the Grinning Tempest tribe of Hill People

A Growing Storm

"I am troubled, Nine Eagle, for the future of our people. Our god has grown sullen since he met the Golden Lord in battle before the gates of Chebam; now storm clouds always nip at our heels like a pack of claw striders. I thought things would grow better when the god returned from his visit with the great Prince of the Northern Jungle, but instead the horned wolves have followed him home. It is fit for Shouting With Iron to lie with our women and beget thunder children; you know that I am one so blessed. But now the horned wolves have begun to make... demands... and our people are ill at ease. I will trust my god, as my tribe has for generations before me, but something must soon come of his plans, or I fear the hunters may soon war with the horned wolves."

-- Swift Iron, Hunter of the Grinning Tempest tribe of Hill People

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Heaven's Mandate