Crumbling Temple

Beneath the canopy of a densely packed jungle, and sprawling underground cave systems, lay a crumbling, and yet still rather magnificent temple. 

 

Its stone is old, and sun bleached. Its intricate carvings, statues and engravings have seen better days, an isometric pyramid of meso american architectural structure have seen better days. Many, many better days. But since their glory years, this place has since become overgrown and home to a less then friendly personage that, while born after its construction, fits nicely at home within its shadows and torchlit halls. 

 

Tozi calls this temple and the grounds around it home. While it is not perfect for most, it is perfect for  her and her dear companion Anzu, who claims the other half of the land for his own purposes. Together they run a scheme for food, a cult of any impressionable humanoid that wandered into their grasp, of promises of guidance and power and health. 

 

Symbols and art dedicated to these Quetzals decorate over older paintings of real gods, nowadays, and neither think much of the ire they might draw from them if they were indeed as real as the past people thought they were. 

 

Alters and sacrifices are as common as their fertility ceremonies and peaceful commune, and Tozi's grand treasure room is vast and plenty. She enjoys to curl with her scrolls and gold and riches to her greedy heart's contentment, with her faithful dragon by her side, with their pretty glittering water and fish friends within their transparent body. Amoxtli enjoys the sun lights as much as any lazy, sleepy dragon might, and only deems it worth their time to move from their bed in the treasury for food, to be showy for a ritual display, or to cuddle with Anzu's little terrors.

 

It is bright, and golden, and bathed in sunlight - so say the Rising Suns