Maztica (mahz-TEE-ka)

Maztica, referred to by its inhabitants as The True World, was a large continent west of Faerûn. Maztica was a land of jungles and mystery. After the destruction of the Spellplague and its now permanent curse to be constantly burning with blue flame, it has been abandoned.

Geography

North of Maztica was the continent of Anchorome and south of it was Lopango.

East Maztica

• Payit: A native nation covered in open savannas and dense jungles.
• Far Payit: A large jungle land with few settlements.
• Sea of Azul: A large body of water that separated Far Payit from the House of Tezca.
• Gulf of Cordell: This oceanic gulf lay on Maztica's eastern coast, north of Payit.

Central Maztica

• Pezelac: An agricultural nation west of Payit.
• The Valley of Nexal: A fertile valley west of Pezelac and east of Huacli, it was home to several Maztican city-states, included Nexal.
• Huacli: A native confederation of six city-states west of Nexal.
• Kultaka: A native kingdom to the northeast of Nexal.

South Maztica

• House of Tezca: A large desert south of Nexal.
• Kolan: A native nation on the western coast of Maztica, west of the House of Tezca.

North Maztica

• The Sands of Itzcala: A great desert north of Nexal, home of the Dog People.
• The Pasocada Basin: A river basin north and west of the Sands of Itzcala.

History

The tale of Maztica's origins is s story that has been recorded and preserved through hundreds of generations. Naturally, the further back the tale, the more legend veils the history.
Basically, however, the story of the True World is divided into three ages: the Immortal Era, the Golden Age of Payit, and the Dawn of Nexal. The commencement of a fourth (as yet unnamed) period is recent, for the end of Nexal can be pinpointed specifically upon the Night of Wailing. The overall course of this new age was unfortunately cut short by the chaos of the Spellplague, which wiped all the nations of Maztica from the land.

The Immortal Age

Maztica was a land created by and for the gods, and for a long time only the gods lived there. First among the gods was The First King of Men, along with his wife the Queen of Men. The two of them had three children, all sons, powerful demigods striding across the land. The eldest was known as the Scholar and was said to be a master of both knowledge and oratory skills. The middle child was the Nameless General, a warrior without peers and the guardian of his family. The youngest was the most secretive, and the Whisper was said to watch all from the shadows, for better or ill.
The gods lived and played, but eventually grew bored. They desired new toys, and from this desire, humanoids were created. The ultimate toys of the gods, they were to take their place upon the world. But humans proved difficult to create, and the gods became increasingly annoyed.
The first of the gods to attempt to create a race, the Whisper took his favored animal - the leopard - and shifted them into a similar shape to him. Tall, lanky, and stealthy, they were able to skitter through the forests without barely a trace. And so the Tabaxi were created. While they had potential, they were not who the King of Men was looking for, and so Whisper bowed his head in shame.
The second god to attempt was the Nameless General, and similar to his younger brother he took his favored animal and fashioned it into a more likeable shape. Created from the Lion, the Khajiit were powerful, strong, and prideful. Roaming through the plains of Maztica, they were more favored by the King of Men, but not what he was looking for.
At last, the Scholar tried, but instead of reshaping a beast he decided on a different path. The eldest son walked over to a riverbed and sliced off his right pinky, letting it fall into the mud. The blood, water, and dirt mixing together formed the first humans, bearing the shape of the gods but less powerful. With them the King of Men was proud, and at his wife's recommendation welcomed all three races to build a great city.
Thanks to the combined efforts of the gods and the three mortal races, a great city was built where all could live. However, the worship of the three sons fostered a hunger for their father's crown in their hearts. One by one they schemed to steal his power.
The Nameless General led a revolution with his khajiit, but was cast down, stripped of his titles, and banished. The Scholar rallied his humans to vote to replace his father with the eldest son instead, but was cursed and banished from the city, forced to forever be alone. But it was the youngest son, the most loved, who succeeded. He and his tabaxi stole the crown while the King of Men slept, quickly hiding away into the shadows of the jungle.
The King of Men was enraged and asked his wife where their favorite son had fled to. The Queen of Men spoke the first lie and said she didn't know where he went. Even more enraged the King cast her down, scarring her form with his power and naming her the First Liar before he banished what living things remained from his city. Gathering what remained of his power, he lifted the city to the skies and hid it in the clouds.

Gifts of the Gods

Now bereft of their father, the sons decided to instead drive creatures they created to worship them and pursue their own goals. Each of the gods puzzled long and hard to select a gift that would encapsulate their desires. These gifts would remind them of the gods, and allow the mortals to perform even greater rituals of worship.
From the Scholar they received the desire to learn, and thus opened the doors to the other gods - for mortals imbued with this desire became very pliable toys indeed. The Scholar also gave the gift of speech, that the mortals may know each other and better raise their voices in praise of the gods.
From the Nameless General, they gained the courage and honor to embark upon wars, wars for greatness among mortals. In their savagery and violence, they greatly pleased the gods, who favored their most faithful followers in war. As yet, the mortals did not know to feed their gods with hearts and lives.
The Whisper gave two gifts, stolen from the primordials of the world. From the sun he gave fire, while from the ocean he taught them to clean water to drink and bathe.
From the First Liar, the mortals learned to love. Their numbers multiplied, and they began to know joy. And in their joy, they gave great thanks to the gods, and they raised their mother, the First Liar, to a lofty height.
The Scholar, the eldest son of the First Liar, grew jealous of his mother's place. He determined that he, too, would earn such honors from men. The Scholar decided to give mortals the greatest gift of all, a gift that would give them health and happiness and many grandchildren - many mortals to worship the Scholar. He gave them mayz, the grain of the gods. With its bounty, it gave the mortals life, and something even greater - it gave them the time to devote their lives to greater pursuits than simply the acquisition of food. Mayz was a keystone of Maztican culture and from its arrival and early use, the development of civilization was a sure and steadily rising path.
Now the mortals gathered in places, collecting around the mayz that gave them life. These places became villages, then towns, and finally great cities. And each city had temples to the gods, and most prominent among them was the Scholar, the Feathered Serpent.
But the Nameless General saw his brother's deed, and the favor brought to him, and jealousy seethed in his own soul. He was determined to create a wonderous gift for mankind, a boon that would make his namew the most exalted of all the gods. For long ages he worked, with fire, and beast, and reptile, and venom, until finally the gift was ready. It was a gift of power, for it was Hrishna, the magic of talon and venom. The power of the dark magic was given to the Nameless General's most faithful priests, and to many powerful warriors who labored in his name. They became the Jaguar Knights, and the power of Hrishna gave them the might to change shape. With that power, the Jaguar Knights became the masters of the night, and their name was whispered in fear....and awe.
But the power of Hrishna was an angry power, and would not be constrained. Soon the humans began to fight with great savagery, and wars swept the land. Armies spurred my murderous fanaticism, butressed by dark hrishnashapers, and armed with fearsome weapons spread outwards. All the cities spewed forth their warriors, and a killing tide swept across the land.
The Scholar saw his brother's gift, and watched mortals suffer under its power. He could not create a gift to match it, for his influence lay over insubstantial things. But his mother, the First Lair, saw his distress. She, too, loathed the spreading of hatred across the land. She knew that the Scholar could stem the tide, yet he lacked the power. And so she gave to her son the Scholar the magic of Pluma. The Plumed One spread the gentle power of feathermagic among the people, and slowly the workings of hatred passed away.

Betrayal and Ultimate War

The anger of the Nameless General was manifest, and he attacked his mother with the greatest rage the gods had ever known. He used a maca with the killing edge of darkness, and felled his mother with a single blow. With that act it was the Scholar's turn to roar with rage, and the mortals fell back in terror and awe. War erupted among the gods, as the Whisper joined with the Scholar to avenge his mother.
The gods commanded the mortals to build a great pyramid for this war, in a place where men could not live. The mortals obeyed their masters, and at last the towering structure stood completed. Now the gods prepared for war, each with a sacrifice to show his steadfastness and courage.
The Nameless General began. He claimed ten thousand brave warriors as his sacrifice, selected from across the breadth of the True World. Joyful at the honor, they journeyed to the mighty pyramid and climbed it. With songs on their lips, they lay across the altar and gave their hearts to the Nameless General.
When, finally, the ten thousand perished, the Scholar came to the pyramid to make his sacrifice. He brought only a small cage, containing thirteen large butterflies. Slowly, he climbed the blood-slick steps, and as he climbed the blood vanished from below him, cleaning the steps all the way to the top of the pyramid. There, the Scholar opened the cage. One at a time the butterflies took flight, each soaring high into the heavens, dazzling the earth with its colors. These butterflies soared across the world, scattering traces of color in their wake. Wherever they passed wildflowers burst from the ground, spreading brightness and nectar in the wake of their passage.
Then the gods joined in battle. They fought long and hard atop the mighty platform, and the force of their struggle sent fire and smoke across the land. Great cyclones whistled outward, and the battle rent huge gaps in the mountains. Finally, when the strength of the gods had been drained, the Scholar seized his brother and cast him down the steps of the pyramid. Defeated, the god of war crept away, and the mortals exalted in the worship of the Scholar.

The Scholar's Seduction

For long ages peace ruled the land. Mortals loved and laughed, and sometimes warred, and always praised the might of the gods. The Scholar heard this praise, and basked in it. He saw the human's joy, and grew jealous. He saw the pleasure the mortals knew from love, and craved a love of his own. He saw a mortal woman in the field, and pursued her and took her for his wife. She struggled, knowing the wrongness of the act, but the Scholar was the master of all. He could not be stopped.
Finally sated, the Scholar slumbered. He fell into a sleep that lasted for ages, and he would not awaken. The mortal woman, overcome with shame, fled from the Scholar, and took refuge with the banished Nameless General. And when she fled, much of the love fled from the True World with her. The mortals cried out from the hurt. They did not understand the tragedy that had befallen them, and they pleaded with their god, the Plumed Serpent, for deliverance. But the Scholar slumbered on. His other brother, the Whisper, heard his brother's sin and turned away from the world, disappearing into the shadows of the True World.
With the absence of the gods, much of mortal existance began to suffer. Crops failed. The rains ceased over whole countries, for years and years, and places which had been lush became barren places of desert. Disease swept through the ranks of men, and many babies died before they were born. For ten years the people lived in anguish, and still the Scholar did not awaken.
The Nameless General sent priests among the people, where once they had hidden away in secret cults. Tribes turned their ears to these priests, for the sages of the Scholar could give them no answers. The priests told them that the gods were hungry, that they needed precious sacrifices.
First the humans brought cocoa, mayz, and venison, but the priests cast these offerings away, leaving them to rot in the sun. Next the gods brought gifts of turquoise, coral, and obsidian, but again the gods said no. The priests shattered these beautiful gifts, and spat upon them. Then the people brought objects of hammered gold, and plated silver. They filled bowls with the dust of precious metal, and piled mounds of it on the sacrificial altars. But the priests would not look at the gold, would not place the silver before the gods. The gods, they said, needed sacrifice of the most precious gifts of all.
And so the people gave themselves.
Each family gave one, be it man, woman, or child. The gifts to the gods were only those in good health, who stepped forward in willing obedience to the command of the Nameless General. The priests began to kill, laying open each sacrifice and offering their hearts to the god. Sometimes the offerings were raised to the First Liar, or the King of Men, but mostly to the Nameless General. All Mazticans understood that he, alone, offered hope of survival. The gods grew strong on their grim feast, and exulted in the worship of the mortals.

Passing of the Feathered Dragon

At last the Scholar awakened from his slumber. When he smelled the blood-scent that lay heavy upon the world, when he saw the people offering themselves to the gods, he remembered what he had done. The Scholar wept in shame, and coiled himself within his grief. Yet, too, his anger reached forth to lash weakly at his subjects. He tried to take from them the gift of speech, the precious language that allowed them to communicate and grow and build. But now the Scholar was too weak, and the people, having turned to new gods, paid no heed to his command.
All except for his patriarchs. The most learned of his priests, those who had worked for many years to spread the word of the Scholar, took a vow of silence, sealing their lips and bringing no thoughts forth as words. They vowed to remain silent until the Scholar was once again restored to his rightful pre-eminence in the world. In gratitude for their faith, the Feathered Dragon left a prophecy with his priests - a prophecy that eventually came to be regarded as an ancient legend. Even its details were lost to the land, though the bare skeleton of its knowledge remained sacred in the scrolls and minds of the priests. Yet in this prophecy he predicted his own return, and told them that it would be presaged by three things:

The coatl will come to let them know the way,
My feathered snake of wisdom and might;
My chosen daughter will meet me on the shore,
Know her; she wears the Cloak of One Plume;
And the Ice of Summer, frozen under heat and fire,
Will prepare the path to my door.

The Scholar then left the land of the gods, and he left the True World. A great party of his faithful, the last followers he had, accompanied him to the eastern realm of Payit. There, at that distant point of land, a great canoe with bright feathered wings, sailed from the east. It touched the beach, and the Scholar stepped aboared. Then, with one last look at the land he left behind, the Scholar sailed to the east and disappared into time.
His followers, remembering his promised return, decided to create a monument to that return, at the place he sailed away. Many of the most skilled stoneworkers among them set to work on the rocky facade of the bluff. Here they carved two massive faces - a man and a woman - who stared endlessly eastward, over the Trackless Ocean. The sculptures stood through many succeeding centuries, always staring eastward, awaiting the return of their god.
They were called the Twin Visages, and they would have an effect on the history of Maztica many hundreds of years later, that no one who witnessed their creation could possibly have imagined.

Payit: The Golden Age

There followed many centuries of healthy life for the people of Maztica. Crops thrived, cities grew, and nations evolved. Most of the great cities of Maztica, including Ulatos, Tulom-Itzi, Kultaka, and Pezel date from this period. As of yet, there was no Nexal, though the great valley held many smaller towns and its lakes were great centers of commerce.
But by far the greatest heights were reached by the peoples of Payit and Far Payit. Their twin capitals of Tulom-Itzi and Ulatos shone as beacons across the True World. The humans lived in peace, and gradually their blessings returned to the world. In Tulom-Itzi, the humans built the great observatory and studied the heavens. Physicians studied herbs and medicines, and sages studied the ways of gods and men. They created paper and symbols to write thereupon so that their knowledge could be passed around the True World.
Though they built vast centers to honor their gods and to increase their learning, the peoples of the Payit lands still farmed the jungle, clearing away the growth by fire, and then growing mayz until the fields gasped out their last fertile breaths. Thus, though their city centers still remain, their houses were light and small and were soon swallowed by the jungle when new farms and new houses were begun. Despite this, they lived a prosperous life. They did not know war. Disease was a rare scourge, and the faithful clerics and wise physicians of the Payit learned to cure most of the afflictions that did arise. Rain fell when it was needed, and the humans used great wells - the cetays - as cisterns, to preserve their moisture against the rare and short-lived periods of drought.

Paths and Roads

The Payit built a great network of roads - straight highways of limestone, raised above the level of the mud even during the rainy season. Travel between the cities of the Payit was frequent and relatively unmolested. More and more people moved from small villages to great cities. In time, a great highway extended all the way from Ulatos to Tulom-Itzi, and this became the great capstone of Payit trade - a symbol of the might of man, hands linked in friendship across the width and breadth of the land.
The great trading canoes of the Payit even embarked upon expeditions, fraught with peril, into the Eastern Ocean. Many of these voyages met with disaster, but others served to populate the islands off of the continent's shore. At the same time as the Payit culture rose, another population was beginning to develop. These peoples, stemming from Kultaka, Huacli, and other lands in the center of the continent, followed a different path from the Payit. They perfected the arts of war and founded a society based on serving the god of conflict.
It was during this period that Maztican military tactics underwent their most dramatic development. The various warring tribes, each representing a city, developed armies of several thousand men. Gradually, elements of these forces began to specialize, some men wielding bows and arrows while others carried slings. Some, the biggest and bravest, studied the wielding of the maca, learning how to use their stone-edged clubs with devastating effect. Where the peoples of Payit worked together, sharing the knowledge that arose within each disparate city, the folk of central Maztica fought each other, using new and deadly tactics to gain an advantage over their neighbors. In each way, the knowledge was shared, and the cultures grew.
The first of the great picture writing arose from the Payits, for scribes formalized the symbols that had always been used as a Maztican expression of beauty, and ultimately a man from Tulom-Itzi could send a message to his brother in Ulatos simply by placing his thoughts upon a sheet of rolled cactus fiber, and having a messenger transport that fiber from one place to the next. Songs, poems, and stories were created, many of them passed along orally from prior to the age of writing, and these were codified and stored in the great libraries of the two cities. Intermarriage became common, and more and more the various tribes of Payit merged into one happy, prosperous people.
The artwork of central Maztica flourished too, as feathers and mosaic became a means of competition. Each person struggled to create brighter, more terrifying images for their armies so that a violent conflict on a field of battle came to present a great, swirling mass of color. Yet the folk of the central highlands developed no writing, and all of their statues were erected to the Nameless General, or to other dark gods of his ilk. His parents, the First Liar and the King of Men were portrayed as increasingly bloodthirsty.
In Payit the culture reached its greatest heights. The astronomers watched the stars, the featherworkers created their pluma, and many children were born and lived to a prosperous adulthood. The Scholar, remembered by many for this was the place of his departure, was the god of the land. His name was raised reverently, and many colorful honors were placed about the cities - flowers, dyed mantles, great floating banners of plumage.

The Great Catastrophe

Amid the splendor, Aliah the Princess of Ulatos grew to beautiful womanhood. The product of many generations of careful breeding, she represented the highest ideals of the Payit female. Word of her beauty, her benign tenderness, and her radiant smile spread across the jungles, reaching even the farthest hamlets. As she matured, her destiny, marriage to her half-brother Xetl, was common knowledge. The people of Ulatos looked forward with high anticipation to her wedding day. In distant Tulom-Itzi, too, word carried of the beautiful princess. This word reached the ears of Tacal, a vigorous young prince of that city. Deep in his heart Tacal hungered for such a maiden, and in his mind, he painted a picture of Aliah. His beautiful, his beloved Aliah!
Tacal brooded in his fabulous city of fountains and gardens. He stared darkly at his young companions, he spurned the attentions of the women at his father’’s court. Gradually, over the years, Tacal’’s single-mindedness crystallized: he knew that he must have Aliah, or he would never live in peace. Spurring him to haste, word came to Tulom-Itzi at the height of the rains: the princess’’s impending marriage to Xetl now would proceed, to be consummated in the spring. Tacal enlisted the aid of his brothers and his close friends. The conspirators would travel to Ulatos with the long procession of wedding guests journeying from Tulom-Itzi. They identified themselves, secretly, by each braiding an eagle feather into his hair.
Their plan advanced inevitably as they made the overland march. It remained undiscovered by the elder Itzaes, and too by their hosts, the masters of Ulatos. The young men attended feasts and dances, they worshipped all the gods of Payit - but the Scholar, of course, most of all - and they touched their eagle feathers in private acknowledgment of their intent. But the princess Aliah remained in seclusion for the week of celebration, and the conspirators of Tulom-Itza could not discover her. The abduction, they decided, must wait until the wedding.
That event occurred on the auspicious day selected by the astronomers for such a solemn ceremony. The wandering stars of both Ulatos and Tulom-Itzi were prominent in the morning sky. When the bride appeared at the crest of the vast, stonewalled courtyard, a gasp rippled through the crowd. Never before, the people realized in awe, had Aliah's beauty been fully revealed. She wore a gown of pure white feathers, with sandals of glistening seashells. A cape, cascading parrot feathers of blue, green, and red, floated easily in the air behind her. Her thick black hair flowed past her shoulders, emblazoned with a dozen bright flowers and a circlet of pure gold.
At this moment, Tacal and his companions struck. They sprang to the platform where Aliah and her attendants stood before the crowd. Slaying the warriors there, Tacal's accomplices fought their way through the palace. He followed, holding tightly to the screaming Aliah’s wrist. The desperate band fought its way free, toward the green fields beyond the sprawling city. But all the warriors of Ulatos pursued and surrounded them. When they saw who it was who had betrayed them, the men of Ulatos set upon the rest of the guests from Tulum-Itzi, those who had had no knowledge of the plot.
Seeing his plan thwarted, his people murdered, Tacal succumbed to a terrible rage. His men fought and died, one after the other, until only he remained, still holding the terrified Aliah. He saw on the palace wall his parents and other nobles of Tulom-Itzi pushed to their deaths, in retribution for the attack. In his blindness, he struck Aliah with his maca, cutting off her head. In the next instant, a hundred Payit arrows punctured him, and he died atop her headless corpse.
With these deaths died the Golden Age of the Payit. For reasons that are not quite understood, the peoples left their grand cities in the years following the tragedy, returning to their small villages in the forest, or dying away altogether. People still lived in Ulatos, and in Tulom-Itzi, but not in the numbers they once had. Whether it was disease, a continuation of the strife, or simply an overwhelming shame that drove these prosperous people from their cities cannot be told for certain.
Scrolls moldered in abandoned libraries. Elegant structures of stonework felt the insistent prying of expanding roots, prying vines. Many of the cities of the Payit, abandoned entirely by their inhabitants, vanished into the jungle. Pyramids crumbled and plants took hold, scratching and scrambling up the sides to form the shapeless mounds that can be found in many places throughout the jungled lands. And as the Payit culture waned, its beauty and serenity fading like mist into the enclosing jungle, other people, less intelligent and thoughtful than the Payit, perhaps, but diverse and active and violence began to flourish.
In the central lands of Maztica, the great lakes below the smoking mountain had become a center of warlike nations. Each was represented by a great city, in or near the valley - Cordotl, Tezat, Azatl, Zokil, and many more. They fought each other for the pure joy of combat, and for the greater glory of their lord. The key to their lives was just that they fought each other. And while they fought, from the north came the newcomers - a ragged, dusty tribe from the desert lands. It had little ancestry to recommend it, tracing roots most obviously to a group of the Dog People. Yet this ragged, motley collection of men and women was destined to become the grand master of the True World.

The Rise of Nexal

They came from the north, the ragged people without a home, wandering through the bleak drylands for no one knew how long. They came to the lakes with their clear water, their fish, and their valleys filled with mayz. They came to the cities in the valley of Nexal. The people from the north were intruders, but they were strong and fierce. They were also shrewd enough to ally with Tezat, the most powerful of the valley cities. They served Tezat for many years as faithful warriors and won for the Revered Counsellor of Tezat many victories.
These folk from the north called themselves Mazticans. They had a strange tale of their origin, a story that was greeted first with amusement, then with suspicion, and eventually with awe by the peoples of the valley. Though this evolution carried over nearly two centuries, the sense of destiny in the talk could not be disputed. It was a destiny that came to guide, and eventually, entrap the True World.

The Tale of Origin

The Mazticans, from their very roots, worshipped one god, the Nameless General, above all others. They praised the god of night and war with a passion that made all others pale in their faith for the vengeful deity. This worship dated back to the tribe’s origins, in some nameless northern barren. Whether their surroundings were swamp or desert or bleak coastline is unknown, but there was little food and much disease. It is a place they could have few desires to remember.
The Mazticans, though ruled by a series of war chiefs in these early days, placed great store in the tribal shamans, all of whom were devoted clerics of the Nameless General. One of these, named Tecco, was once illuminated with a vision that came to him like a bright light shining through a moonless night. The following day, Tecco ventured into the desert, wandering for a full year before he came upon a cave in the heights of a parched mountain range. Entering the cavern, which showed a regularity of construction indicating unnatural origins, the cleric found a great pillar of stone. Before Tecco’s astounded eyes, the pillar melted and shifted, until the tribal shaman found himself staring at the bestial, imposing image of the warrior-god, the Nameless General!
The statue stood taller than a man, though it had a human-like torso. In its right hand, it clutched a stout maca, the stone-chip blade as sharp as obsidian. In its left, it held a shield emblazoned with the face of a snarling jaguar. But though its form resembled humanity, the leering face proved the beast’s immortal origins. A wide mouth, studded with long, inward-curving fangs, opened in a drooling grin, and Tecco thought he would be devoured; the legends tell us that the devout cleric knew only joy at this moment. A long, shaggy mane fell from the god's head to encircle his shoulders, and the beast-like muzzle gave it a horrid aspect. The Nameless General’s eyes flashed like lightning, and Tecco felt the rumbling of thunder shake the cavern.
But the monstrous image did not devour the cleric. Instead, it spoke:

Faithful children of the god, go! This place must be left in the halls of your past,
For a future ordained by the General awaits.
Take your children by the hand, priest!
Lead them south toward the valley of your future, Where mighty destiny awaits.
Now my children claim the world, all!
From their island in they sun they send their armies,
To gain the final glory for their god.

After the god spoke his command, the living statue returned to stone, to a cold pillar of rock that only vaguely resembled the god in all its vital detail. Yet Tecco lifted the stone, though it was bigger than himself, and carried it with him as he returned to his village. The priest retained the chant in exact, rhythmic precision, and it became the pre-history of his people. Faced by such a compelling destiny, the tribe immediately abandoned its barren homesite. Carrying seed grain, protected by a small but vigorous contingent of warriors, the Mazticans moved toward the south.
For many years they wandered. The exact time is unknown, but it is accepted that Tecco’’s grandson, Cattl, was the shaman of the tribe as they finally discovered the land of their destiny, the Valley of Nexal. The whole of their efforts following Tecco’’s revelation has been directed toward the fulfilling of this prophecy. Throughout all the subsequent travels of the tribe, the shamans carried the stone with them and worshiped it as tangible evidence of their god.

The Great Valley

When the Mazticans arrived in this place, which so clearly matched the prophecy, they knew that here they would make their homes. But here, too, were many other peoples, all of them more powerful, more prosperous, and more settled than the ragged newcomers. No matter; the Mazticans had something that set them apart, and this was their overriding knowledge that they were the chosen children of the Nameless General. Armed by this faith, they entered the valley.
For their homes, they claimed a low, flood-prone island in the middle of the lakes. It was land no one else wanted, for it seemed too flat, too frequently inundated, for civilized employment. But here the Mazticans founded their village, and though it began as a rude collection of thatch and mud huts, the people quickly built a pyramid to their god. As the village became a town and then a city, so too did the pyramid add layers of height and breadth, until it would become a wonder of the True World. But such grandeur lay far in the future.
The greatest city in the valley, at this time, was Tezat. The Mazticans wasted no time in placing themselves under the protection of, and in offering their services to, this great city that lay on the northern shore of the lake. The two other great cities were Azatl, to the west, and Zokil, which lay to the south of the valley. Many smaller towns, each nevertheless greater than the Mazticans at this time, crowded the lush and fertile valley floor.
A delicate balance of power existed here, for the smaller towns attached their allegiance to one or another of the great cities like the changing of the seasons. The three, Azatl, Zokil, and Tezat, maintained a narrow equilibrium of power, for whenever one grew too powerful, the other two would unite in challenge to it. Into this taut structure came the ragged Mazticans. The island they claimed, while barren compared to the lakeshores, stood squarely in the middle of the valley centers. And on this island, they placed their stony statue of the Nameless General, and here they began to grow food, to eat, and to multiply in numbers that would have been impossible in the barren lands of their origin.

Power and Prestige

The Maztican tribe introduced to the valley a new devotion to the ever-popular pastime of making war. No other warriors threw themselves so savagely into melee, no other archers showered foes with such a heavy, accurate barrage of their deadly missiles. They fought at the commands of the Tezat rulers, and those august counselors came to rely more and more upon their loyal vassals. The Mazticans preceded the Tezat army into the attack; they formed the rearguard on those rare occasions when retreat became a tactical necessity. They fought, and they died, but most of all they took prisoners.
The sacrifice of enemy captives was in no way an innovation introduced by the Mazticans. All the cities of the valley, and across the True World, had made it a practice when celebrating a victory or atoning for a defeat. A warrior achieved prominence and rank not by slaying enemies, but by taking them alive on the field of battle. Yet the Mazticans, in their devotion to the Bloody General, lifted the rites of sacrifice to new pinnacles of gore. Where other tribes would take two dozen or two score lives in the celebration of a great victory, the Mazticans fell short of their desires if they could offer less than a hundred. And as they exalted and killed in the name of their god, their prowess grew, and their victories mounted.
The success of the Mazticans, and its obvious origins in divine benevolence, were facts that could not be ignored by the other tribes of the valley. Thus, even before the village on the island became a political force, the example of its religious devotion gripped its neighboring communities until they all strived to outdo each other in their rites to the god of war.

Treachery and Diplomacy

Tezat, aided by its loyal Maztican warriors, ultimately came near to gaining mastery of the valley lands. Collecting tribute from the other cities, it made greater and greater demands upon its neighbors. Always those cities paid, for they greatly feared the vengeful depredations of Tezat’’s ferocious allies. And all the while resentment seethed, and rebellion festered. But always the Nameless General favored his chosen tribe, for they remained triumphant on the field.
Then, when the tension had reached a peak, the war chiefs of the Mazticans went to the enemies of Tezat, to the leaders of Azatl and Zokik. To these counselors, they proposed a new alliance, banding against the newly powerful ones in the valley. The other cities, long-suffering rivals of powerful Tezat, quickly agreed to the campaign. The Mazticans planned carefully and laid their trap in the guise of a great battle with the rival cities. As the Tezat army advanced, secure in the protection of its Maztican allies along its exposed flank, those same allies turned and commenced the attack.
Led by the Mazticans, the other armies surged forward and laid waste to the mighty Tezats. The once-powerful army fell back to its own city, but even here they could not hold. The Mazticans formed the vanguard of the attack, pushing their way to the heart of the city and climbing the sacred pyramid of Tezat - an altar to the sun god, the King of Men. The battle ended as the victorious Mazticans set the temple to flame.
Great was the feasting, and gory were the offerings to the Nameless General, after this brief and savage campaign. Leaders and most valorous fighters in the battle, the Mazticans claimed the bulk of the treasure. They carried many slaves, and many more sacrificial captives, back to their island. With this influx, the town truly became a city. As a result of their change of allegiance, the Mazticans found themselves in a newly gained position of leadership in the valley. With threats, and diplomacy, and shrewd marriages, and rapidly shifting alliances, the Mazticans consolidated and gathered their power beneath them. Their sons grew to be strong warriors, and their daughters bore many children.
Through the use of floating gardens of pluma-supported loam, the Mazticans expanded their island. Stone houses replaced those of wood, and more and greater pyramids were erected, to all of the gods. But always the lofty temple of the Nameless General towered over the others, an imposing reminder of the deity who protected the Mazticans and gave success to their endeavors. And always the sandstone image of their god, the pillar found many centuries earlier by the cleric Tecco, remained enshrined in the sacred temple.
One by one, the cities surrounding the lake gave in to the pressing might of the Mazticans. The people from the barren waste, called Mazticans, took for their new name Nexala, to prove that they were the rightful inheritors of the valley. Their city they named Nexal, which all might know as the heart of the True World.

Birth of an Empire

The war chiefs that had always ruled the Mazticans also evolved with the change in the tribe's name. No longer would it be the crude, albeit effective, men of war who determined all matters of import pertaining to the well-being of the tribe. With their ascension to city status, the Mazticans - now called the Nexala - declared their leaders to be the Revered Counselors charged with the governing of the truly civilized locales.
Of course, the Revered Counselors of Nexal were generally those men who had proven their worth at the highest calling of the people; i.e. warfare. Nevertheless, the Nexala marked their true beginning of civilized, cultured status from the time they started calling their war chiefs Revered Counselors. The first of these counselors were called Ipana - later, Ipana I, as two of his descendants with the same name took the throne in the following years. He claimed the seat some two hundred and forty years before the Golden Legion first set foot upon Maztican shores.
Ipana set out to unite the cities of the valley, under his own firm control. During his own reign, he brought Azatl and Zokil firmly into his fold; these cities were absorbed by Nexal and became parts of the whole. Their individual gods and counselors were subverted until the nobles of these cities became mere courtiers to the throne of Ipana. The gods favored by the other cities were not banished - there being room in Maztica, after all, for a whole pantheon of powerful deities - but in each a temple to the Nameless General was erected or expanded so that it became the obvious focal point of devotion, dwarfing all other centers of worship.
Only Tezat, the original protector of the Mazticans, resisted complete absorption by the growing power in the valley. The Nexala collected tribute and took slaves for labor or sacrifice from Tezat, but always during Ipana’’s reign of thirty-five prosperous years did the ancient city retain its own identity. Ipana's grandson Tenoch took the throne, and the title of Revered Counselor, following the death of his grandfather. He devoted his reign, of twenty years, to the continuing struggle to absorb rebellious Tezat, but he had no more success in this endeavor than did his grandfather.
Tenoch’’s own son, Ipana II, ruled Nexal for a mere twelve years, but through subterfuge and treachery, he succeeded where his predecessors had failed. In the sixtieth year of Nexal’’s might, he hosted a great banquet for all the chiefs of the valley. Over the course of the month-long celebration, the representatives of Tezat were fed a special mix of drugs and poisons, perfected by the clerics of the Nameless General. The celebration concluded, with no visible effects occurring to any of the celebrants; however, within the next half-year, all of Tezat’’s mightiest chiefs, counselors, sages, and priests mysteriously sickened and died. Though the treachery was naturally suspected, if not confirmed, the power vacuum created in Tezat was too great to be filled locally. Softly, with barely a murmur of dissent, that once-proud city was absorbed into the neophyte empire that would become Nexal.
Lovers of irony will no doubt appreciate the fact that, seven years later, the same toxin was used to prematurely end the life of Ipana II. A nephew, desirous of gaining power, confessed guilt in the matter, after several days of probing inquisition by the clerics of Zaltec. Ipana’’s young son, ten-year-old Ipana III, assumed the title of counselor. His reign began a new period in Nexal’’s ascendancy.
Ipana III ruled Nexal for a full fifty-one years. During his reign, the other cities of the valley were cemented into the culture of their Maztican masters. The nobles of Tezat, of Azatl and Zokil, sought Maztican daughters to marry their sons. The cult of the Nameless General flourished, and the creed of the warrior gained new prominence and mastery in the great valley. But this was a mere extension of the paths laid down by Ipana III’s predecessors. His most striking impact on Nexalan culture - an impact that continued to grow through the reign of Naltecona, nearly two hundred years later - was in carrying his dream of the empire beyond the fertile valley of Nexal, into nations across the width and breadth of the True World.
The necessity for these wars of conquest originated, again perhaps ironically, from the very hunger of the god in whose name the wars were waged.

The Feathered Wars

With the entire pacification of the valley under the mastery of his throne, Ipana III had no nearby enemies with whom to wage war. Yet the god of war still required great numbers of hearts for his bloodthirsty pleasure - and now, when the blessings of his protection were finally manifested among his people, it was certainly not time to displease the god of night and war. At first, Ipana III decided to employ an idea that would have been extraordinarily bizarre in any other culture. Whether the idea was his alone, or originated in the minds of his devious clerics, or perhaps even hailed from some long-buried culture in Maztica’’s past, is a fact not known. What is clearly recorded is that the command of Ipana III went out to the cities of the valley, requiring them to send warriors to a great ceremony, a ceremony that would be called “the Feathered War”.
The purpose of this massive exercise was the taking of captives from each other's forces. The armies of Tezat, Azatl, Zokil, and the Nexala themselves all clashed in a great field beside the lake. Nobles and courtiers and women watched, while men strove to prove their prowess on the field. For a full day, the contest raged, until each of the four tribes had collected enough prisoners to satisfy the hunger of the Nameless General for a long time to come. Ipana III, himself, led the Maztican armies and took two prisoners. At this time he was twenty years old, and his accomplishment won him the undying respect of his city's warrior clan - which, until this point, had viewed him as a naive upstart. Naturally, the fighting prowess of the Mazticans allowed them to claim many more prisoners, and lose far fewer men, than any of the other cities.
For several years, the pleasure of the Nameless General was maintained by the sacrifice of prisoners taken during the Feathered War. These were years of a bountiful harvest, and much rain. Yet finally, the last of the captives were given to the god, and once again the clerics cried out for hearts. Again the valley went through the ritual of a Feathered War, this one more extravagant than the first. However, the cities of Azatl, Zokil, and Tezat, working subtly in concert, managed to claim as many Maztican captives as they lost of their own people. The god of war had food again, but the cost of the war this time gave Ipana III pause.
Thus it was that he decided to take his armies beyond the valley, to the cities and villages beyond. In swift campaigns, he claimed Cordotl and Palul - small city-states to the east of the valley - for Nexal. Next, he hurled his forces against the savage Kultaka, though here he was rebuffed, as the Kultakans would rebuff all invaders for two centuries, until the coming of the Captain-general and his Golden Legion. The Revered Counselor of Nexal, frustrated by his first defeat, turned his armies westward. They marched into the dry, mountainous country of the Huacli peoples. The latter dwelled in relative isolation, with a culture that centered around six semi-independent city-states.
The coming of the Nexala proved disastrous for the peoples of Huacli. Ipana’’s army captured Ixtal, easternmost of the city-states, in a sudden and shocking campaign, culminating with the army driving into the city center and burning the temple. Five thousand captives, it is said, were marched toward the altars of Nexal following this one great feat of arms. Next, Nexalan emissaries began to negotiate in private with the representatives of Pulco, the central city-state of the Huacli people. Following a combination of inducements, bribes, and threats, Pulco agreed to join ranks with the conquerors. With this crucial aid from within, the Nexalan armies marched across Huacli in a ten-year campaign of pillage and conquest.
Three of the remaining city-states fell under Nexalan control, although none without a savage and honorable defense. Only the sixth city-state, a mountainous retreat on the coast far to the northwest of Nexal, managed to hold off the invading hordes. This place, called Otomi, resisted a siege lasting three years, and finally, the Nexala abandoned the campaign.
The remainder of Ipana III’s reign was spent in the consolidation of his far-flung gains. Cordotl and Palul were absorbed into the culture of the Maztican tribe much like the cities of the valley had been. The lands of Huacli remained as conquered territories, pledged annually to provide slaves and treasure to their masters in Nexal. Ipana III died, eventually, of extreme old age. Though he had many sons and grandsons, it was his grand-nephew Tolco who ascended to the throne at this time. Tolco had been judged by the courtier of Nexal to be the ablest of the potential inheritors, based particularly upon his stunning accomplishments on the field of battle. Not only had he led Ipana III’’s armies for many of Nexal’s most successful campaigns, but he had also taken more than one hundred prisoners personally.
He was mistaken. Tolco’s first campaign against the Kultakans ended in the greatest military defeat ever suffered by Nexal. Marching proudly into the lands of their mountainous neighbor, the Nexalan forces advanced with banners flying, pluma waving overhead, and crisp ranks ready to do battle. The Kultakans allowed their ancient enemies to advance into a narrow defile, and here they set upon the Nexala from ambush. The greater numbers of Tolco’’s troops could not come to bear in the restricted terrain, and the vanguard of the army was savagely mauled. Several thousand prisoners fell into the hands of Kultaka, destined for bloody altars, while the rest of the army fled the field.
Stung by the setback, Tolco turned toward Pezelac as the next source of military glory. For several years he sent armies into that nation, often leading them himself. However, where Tolco had once been an innovative and decisive commander in the field, his new role as Revered Counselor seemed to fill him with hesitancy and caution. He could never force himself to take the risks that, as a general, had once been second nature to him. Thus, while his expeditions returned with enough prisoners to satiate the Nameless General and enough treasure to pay for the campaigns, he was unable to subjugate the Pezels. Finally, after more than a decade of this indecisive campaigning, he resolved to absolve the first blot on his record as Revered Counselor. He commanded a second, even greater invasion of Kultaka.
This time Tolco marched at the head of the army. Scouts preceded the force, especially at those narrow passes so favored by the Kultakans for ambush; but no ambush was discovered. It seemed as though his force might march all the way to Kultaka City without facing a battle. But finally, they encountered the enemy, drawn upon an open plain a few miles short of their city. The ensuing battle raged for most of the day, with the outnumbered Kultakans fighting bravely, but slowly falling back before the superior numbers of the attackers. Indeed, it seemed as though Kultaka would, on that day, fall to Nexal - historians may well ponder what the subsequent history of Maztica would have been like, had this come to pass.
However, the capricious intervention of fate, in the form of a sharp, deadly accurate arrow, reversed the tide of history, sending it flowing back to the sea from whence it had come. The arrow penetrated the pluma breastplate of the Revered Counselor, lodging next to Tolco’’s heart. Immediately his forces abandoned the attack, gathering around the leader for a two-day vigil while the Kultakans desperately prepared their city for defense. The defenses proved superfluous in the event, for ultimately the Revered Counselor of Nexal perished in the camp of his army. Disheartened, the Nexala returned to their valley and their city, leaving the Kultakans, yet again, unconquered in their mountainous retreat.
The pendulum of court selection swung back to the direct line of Ipana III following the death of his great-nephew Tolco. A great-grandson of the mighty one was crowned Tenoch II, sixth Revered Counselor of mighty Nexal. During the twenty-one years of his reign, Tenoch II added no new lands to the empire. However, trade flourished, and the grip of Nexal on the lands it held was firmly solidified. It was Tenoch II who decreed that roadways be laid down that led beyond the valley itself. The first of these linked Cordotl and Palul to the causeways into Nexal itself. A second highway, to the west, led to the borders of the Huacli country. Way-houses were built along these roads, and regular patrols of Nexalan troops marched along them to keep them safe.
A third road project, destined to reach into Pezelac, was abandoned after the Pezels rebelled against their tribute payments. Tenoch sent a mighty army, commanded by his son Chimal, into the reluctant tributary. In a campaign of savage determination, Chimal virtually destroyed one of the small cities of the Pezels. With this brutal example, the rest of the nation quickly fell into line and the tribute payments resumed. Plus, Chimal returned with enough prisoners, slaves, and treasure to pay for his expedition many times over. In celebration, the temple of the Nameless General was raised to an even greater height and consecrated by the blood of five thousand sacrifices. The same sandstone pillar discovered by the cleric Tecco was still enshrined in the temple, atop a pyramid that was now the highest in the known True World - only the temple of the Nameless General, in the ruined City of the Gods, was reputedly higher. Yet, since no one had seen that place in centuries, reports of its existence gradually faded to the status of legend.

Expansion of Trade

Chimal ascended to the throne upon the death of his father and ruled Nexal for eighteen years of relative calm. His campaigns were limited to punitive forays against the Kultakans - bloody affairs which served mainly to provide Nexal and Kultaka both with captives for their altars - and to the expansion of trade. It is the latter area where Chimal made his most significant advances. Not only were all the Pezelac cities incorporated into the trading network of Nexal, but some of his most venturesome merchants even journeyed as far as the jungles of Payit. For the first time, communication between the Payit capital of Ulatos and the city at the heart of the True World became a regular, if not frequent, occurrence.
Chimal also opened negotiations and established limited trading arrangements with the recalcitrant Huacli city of Otomi. These people, in their remote and protected locale, were tremendously suspicious of foreigners, and it is a tribute to the wisdom of patience of Chimal’’s merchants that they were allowed to enter and leave the place alive.
Chimal's place on the throne was taken by his own son Totep, but this reign lasted a mere six years. A weak and vacillating ruler, Totep seemed more interested in maintaining a palace full of willing concubines than in governing his nation. His untimely death, it is rumored, was caused by poison administered by his own military leaders. One of these, Zomoc, ascended to the throne that had belonged to his uncle.

The Last Conquest

As if in embarrassment over his predecessor’’s failures, Zomoc determined that his reign was to be one of unmatched military accomplishment. Seeking likely enemies, yet apparently willing to learn the lessons of history, he passed over the Otomis and Kultakans. Instead, his gaze fell to the southwest, toward the barren desert lands of the primitive Kolan tribe. The Kolans dwelled in a series of barely fertile valleys along the coast of the Western Ocean. Harsh, virtually impenetrable mountains separated their lands from the more numerous Huacli to the north. Long stretches of parched dry land divided the Kolans from their even more distant neighbors in Nexal.
Yet Zomoc set out to cross these deserts, and for twenty years he made war on the fierce Kolan tribes. Villages and towns fell to the marauding army of Nexal; as often as not, however, the Kolan burned their own communities rather than allow them to fall into the hands of the hated invader. Zomoc remained in Nexal during these wars, relying on his chief general, Coyo, to wage the campaigns. Several times Coyo was gone from the valley for five or six years, while occasional messages - carried across the desert at great risk by couriers traveling on foot - reached Nexal describing his victories or, more often, his frustrations.
Yet finally Coyo returned to the city, having accomplished the ultimate subjugation of the Kolans: he had burned the temples in each of their surviving towns and proved to the native people that his persistence was the equal of theirs. He brought a long file of slaves through the desert on his return. However, the Kolans were a poor people, so he gained little in the way of gold, pluma or hishna magics, or even cocoa. In ultimate reward of Coyo’’s magnificent accomplishments, Zomoc treated him to a year of feasting and celebration upon his return. The great general secured a place of honor shared by none in the annals of Maztican warfare. Concubines, treasures, and ranks were bestowed upon him.
Yet Zomoc was a shrewd and ruthless counselor, and he understood the import of Coyo's return and the approbation since given him. Enlisting the aid of the patriarch of Zaltec, Zomoc determined to offer to Coyo a singular honor - a fitting capstone to a great lifetime of military achievement. Thus, at the climax of the celebration, a full year after Coyo's return, the powerful cleric placed an enchantment over the general. The counselor sprang to his feet, and in an apparent ecstasy of religious fervor, declared that the Nameless General wished to honor his general in the only fitting way - the god of war desired Coyo’s own heart on the sacrificial altar!
His mind numbed by the confusion caused by the patriarch's spell, Coyo also sprang to his feet and shouted aloud his devotion to the god of war. The entire square of Nexal throbbed with joy as priests carried the great warrior to the pyramid and its temple. There, the patriarch himself performed the rites of devotion. Thus, Zomoc realized the objective of his most ambitious military campaign, and also removed his closest rival - though there has never been any indication that Coyo would have ever practiced treachery against his Revered Counselor.
Such betrayal of loyalty is not without cost, however, and Zomoc spent his remaining years in an agony of fear. At one time or another, he suspected that all his closest wives, his warriors, and courtiers, even the troops of his personal guard were plotting against him. His guilt wore on him like a crushing burden, and the steady stream of sacrifices resulting from his hysterical accusations only served to heighten his sense of persecution. Five years after Coyo's great victory, Zomoc died in his sleep. His slaves discovered him in the morning, curled into a tight ball, his face distorted by horror. It was said that he died of his dreams.

Modern Nexal

The lineage of Nexal’’s counselor branches at this point, for the nobles of the city selected for their next ruler, one who was descended only by a distant cousin from the line of Ipana; yet he was the nephew of the general Coyo. He was Izco, and he ascended to the throne almost exactly one hundred years before the coming of the Golden Legion. Izco was tenth in the line of Nexalan Counselors. His reign, and that of his son Izco II, blend into a period of great cultural and artistic growth among the Nexalans. The bonds of trade with Pezelac were formed more securely than ever, and tribute from the Huacli cities continued to pour into the valley. Under this reign, Nexal claimed most of its sacrificial victims through the tribute paid by its subsidiary states; each city being compelled to furnish a number of appropriate men and women each year. The exact number was determined by the city’’s size, and by the terms of its occupation by Nexal. Those cities which had resisted the Nexalan armies furnished a high quota of victims; those which had had the wisdom to negotiate terms of tribute without bloody resistance were treated more leniently.
A new layer was added to the great pyramid, raising it even higher into the sky. To sanctify the construction, as well as to celebrate the passing of the reign from Izco to his son, the relatively modest total of a thousand hearts was offered by the priests. The insufficiency of this offering became immediately manifest, when long slumbering Mount Zatal, overlooking the valley, erupted. Lava sizzled down its slopes, to hiss into the waters of Lake Tezca, and waves inundated the island and the lowlands around the valley floor. Fortunately, most of the stone buildings remained standing, and the crops that grew away from the lake were relatively untouched. Nevertheless, hundreds of people perished, and the survivors - harangued by the priests of the god of war, naturally - wasted no time in identifying the nature of their transgression.
Within a month, a massive Feathered War was organized and fought by the cities of the valley. Ten thousand captives, claimed by each other as a result of the ritualized battle, were immediately offered to the Nameless General in atonement. The temple atop the pyramid was re-consecrated, and Izco II finally ascended to the throne of his father. This exchange, incidentally, also marked the first and only time that a Revered Counselor of Nexal relinquished his throne while still alive. Izco the Elder spent the rest of his days writing songs and poems and learning the weaving of pluma while his son oversaw the needs of the empire.
And an empire it was becoming, though perhaps not in such a formal way as an empire in Cormyr, or the Sword Coast, or Kara-Tur might be defined. The Nexala left their subject peoples alone, living as they pleased, with a few notable exceptions. The tribute, in treasure and slaves, had to be maintained, of course; and the worship of the Nameless General was made a prominent - though not necessarily the dominant - feature of the nation’’s religious practices.

The Warlike Reign of Pakli

With the passing of Izco II, the restive nobles of Nexal turned again toward their warrior heritage, selecting a venerable leader named Pakli to serve as the empire’s Revered Counselor. Pakli immediately set out to make war in a grand way. He launched simultaneous campaigns against the Otomis, in the far Huacli country, and the Kultakans. At the same time, he contemplated sending a force through Pezelac to try to bring the Payit lands under Nexalan control.
The costs of the expeditions strained the treasuries of the empire, and this was not offset by the gains. Indeed, the march on Kultaka ended in disaster, as once again the Nexalan army succumbed to ambush and panic. The misfortune was compounded by the fact that the army was too small for the task it had been given; even mighty Nexal could not afford to divide its army for an attack against two widely separate goals. In the end, little more than half of the men who marched on Kultaka ever made it back to Nexal.
The drive against the Otomis progressed a little better. For several months the Nexalan army was stalemated at the mountainous border of that stubborn people. Then, just when a sudden, violent attack punctured the outer rim of the defense, word reached the Huacli states of the Nexalan defeat at Kultaka. Three of the five pacified city-states erupted in revolt. Since the Nexalan army in the field depended upon these supposedly friendly locations for provisions, the situation quickly became dire. The army fell back from the Otomi lands and spent three years quelling the rebellion of the other Huacli cities. Though they brought many prisoners back to Nexal when the men finally returned home, the campaign was widely recognized for the disaster that it, in fact, was.
The later years of Pakli’’s reign were occupied with the putting down of revolts in Pezelac and in far-off Kolan. Though all of these states were eventually returned to the fold, it was an unsettled and chaotic period. Pakli's death, after a reign of fourteen years, came as something of a relief to the city's nobles. Those worthy gentlemen now determined, after forty years of virtual stagnation in military accomplishment, to select for their Revered Counselor one who had proven his worth on the field of battle. Though the reigns of the Izcos, and to a lesser extent Pakli, had seen great improvements in the cultural accomplishments of Nexal, and had witnessed tremendous use of pluma in the beautifying of the grand city itself, the leaders of Nexal could not forget their warrior roots, nor the bloodthirsty god who had guaranteed them their place in the sun.

Chalco Revered

Thus, the warrior Chalco was appointed to the throne. He was a cousin, some distance removed, of Pakli, and thus maintained the familial bond of the line. However, he was a much more forceful leader than the latter, and capable of great focus of activity. As if to make up for the lack of military progress during the reigns of his three predecessors, Chalco immediately launched a massive campaign against ever-recalcitrant Kultaka. Bloody battles were waged, and the Nexalans came away with more captives than they had ever previously won against their most hated enemies. Finally, the mighty army drove toward the Kultakan capital, and it seemed that they would at last sack that stubborn city and burn its temple.
But before the very gates of the walled city, the Kultakans rallied around a young warrior named Takamal. This heroic figure had already taken more than a dozen captives during this, his first campaign. Now, with his example - and their wives and children at their backs - the Kultakan warriors stiffened, and fought a battle of legend. They would not break, and finally, it was Chalco who was forced to turn back from his ultimate prize. Nevertheless, the number of captives gained for Nexal numbered more than ten thousand, and this alone guaranteed that the campaign would be considered a famous victory.   Next, Chalco took his huge army, under his personal command, and marched through the Huacli country in an impressive demonstration of his nation's might. Ordering his subjects from the conquered city-states to join him, he formed a great force with which to attack the Otomis. Here he met with more success than any other Nexalan commander, though the ultimate victory still eluded him. His army drove into the valleys of the Otomis, rooting them from the towns and villages. Finally, he encircled their capital city in its mountain retreat and set out to reduce it to ashes.
The Otomis fought desperately. They tipped their arrows with shaped metal heads that punctured the pluma and hishna armor of their attackers. This metal, subsequently identified as copper, seems to be the only case of Maztican metallurgy - aside from gold and silver employed for ornamental purposes. Nevertheless, it proved effective, for casualties among the attacking force were very high. Finally, however, the force of superior numbers prevailed. The ring of defenders cracked, and the Nexala surged into the city, to burn the temple and to claim the stubborn Otomis as their conquered subjects. But the Otomis, even in defeat, would not surrender. All who could flee did so, and many thousands made it to the safety of their native mountains. Here they lived for years until Chalco tired of the long wait and abandoned the valley. With the departure of the invaders, the Otomis moved back into their city and rebuilt it even grander than it had been before.
Chalco’’s reign was also distinguished by several events of a spiritual nature. For one thing, this counselor bid his traders to journey in search of the original home of the Maztican tribe, and especially the unnatural caverns where, according to ancient legend, the cleric Tecco had discovered the pillar of stone that had come to life as the spirit of their god. Upon each merchant's return to Nexal, but especially those who had journeyed to the northern fringes of the Huacli country, or into the wildlands of the Khajiit, he was carefully questioned by the Revered Counselor. Had he heard tales of the ancient barren land? Was there any sign of a massive, unnatural cavern? But always these questions provided only more questions, never the answers Chalco sought.
And as often as not, the missions were fraught with peril for the traders. The nomadic Khajiit successfully evaded all attempts to subject them to Nexal; with no cities and temples to defend, and the whole of the harsh northern desert as their home, the Khajjit could observe, harass, and outdistance any army sent from the valley into the harsh and unforgiving clime. Even traders, known often to function as spies for the throne, were not welcomed. Second, and equally fruitless, Chalco sent many expeditions into the House of Tezca to seek out the City of the Gods, legendary Tewahca. None of these was successful, and indeed many of the exploring parties never even emerged from that waterless waste. There was never a shortage of volunteers, however, for the work had the blessings of the cult of the Nameless General.
Chalco reigned for twenty-six prosperous years, and upon his death, it could be said that the empire was in its strongest shape ever. The last ten years of his rule saw virtually no rebellion among the subject people, even requiring the occasional Feathered War to make sure that a steady supply of captives remained ready for the ever-hungry god.

Peak of the Empire

Chalco was succeeded by a grandson, Axalt, who - like his ancestor Ipana III, two centuries earlier - ascended to the throne as a mere youth. Nevertheless, Axalt’’s keen instincts, his ready wit, and his quick grasp of his lessons convinced his teachers and the nobles of the city that in this young man they had a uniquely qualified individual. Axalt's reign was distinguished by frequent forays against the Kultakans, though none succeeded as well as Chalco’’s first attack against the stubborn neighboring nation. During this time, the war chief Takamal, Revered Counselor of Kultaka, demonstrated his full abilities, constantly outfoxing the larger armies sent by Nexal.
Axalt’’s most able general in these forays proved to be his son, Naltecona. When this shrewd leader led the army, they were still not able to breach the hard Kultakan defenses; yet the troops showed greater toughness in adversity. Never once did Naltecona’’s army leave the field in a rout. A great palace was built for Axalt in the sacred plaza of Nexal, and for a time this was the most splendid dwelling in the valley - though of course, it was still dwarfed by the looming massif of the Great Pyramid. Stone walls surrounded many courtyards and spacious apartments. Ironically, these same walls provided the margin of survival for the Golden Legion when, twenty years later, it fought for its life against the fanatical hordes of the sacrificial cult.
But perhaps Axalt’’s most splendid accomplishment, and the one that affected most Nexala in a positive way, was the building of the great aqueduct. This wide stone structure contained two troughs so that a steady supply of water could be maintained even if one had to be closed for cleaning or repair. It drew water from the lush Cicada spring, on the slopes of Mount Popol, overlooking the valley. The water was collected in a great pool near the center of the city, where it was free to all residents. Though the lake water was potable, the springwater was fresh, clear, and in all ways superior. The Aqueduct of Axalt became a landmark known to all who visited the valley. Axalt died while still relatively young, though his reign lasted for twenty-two years. His passing, unsuspect at the time, marked the end of the rise of Nexal. His son, the warrior, ascended to the throne in his place, to face the doom which would quickly and dramatically overtake his world.

The Tragic Reign of Naltecona

Naltecona ascended to the throne of the most powerful empire the True World had ever known. At the time, he was an accomplished warrior, famed for his good judgement, intelligence, and mature understanding of his world. A handsome, impressive man, he had several devoted wives and a vast court of nobles and advisers. He wielded more power than any man on his continent ever had before. Twelve years later he was dead, killed by forces he couldn't begin to understand. Around him, the wreckage of his empire smoldered in chaos and war, while the future of humanity itself - at least, on the continent called Maztica - seemed to lie in some doubt. New, dark forces arose in the seat of his power, and the surviving peoples of Nexal once again fled through the desert as refugees.
Certainly the trigger that began this collapse can be found in the arrival of foreigners - Captain-General Cordell and the five hundred men of his Golden Legionon the shores of the True World. This event, while earth-shaking in import, was only one cornerstone of the collapse, however. When the reign of Naltecona is cast against the rise of Nexal through the preceding centuries, it develops like a grand tragedy, inevitable in its collapse, despite its strengths. For in its foundation, at its very root, it was an empire based upon evil - upon the taking of innocent human lives to feed a bloodthirsty god, a god claimed by the clerics of his cult as being essential to the well-being of the world.
At the time of Axalt’’s death, the Nexalan empire was basically at peace. The subject lands of Pezelac, Huacli, and Kolan paid their tributes regularly. The Kultakans, while always troublesome, were no more of a threat than ever. Trade flourished, with merchants journeying even to Payit, where they could barter for brilliant feathers unlike the plumage that native Nexalan and Pezelac featherworkers could trap.
With his borders thus secure, Naltecona’s first task was to order the construction of a great palace - one larger, even, than the grand structure built for his father. Thousands of slaves and artisans began to work, and a great part of the sacred plaza was set aside as a site for the huge building. The project took five years, and the completion of the sprawling edifice was commemorated by the sacrifice of five thousand captives.
Even before the completion of his palace, however, Naltecona decided that he required a more visible standard of his rank, that even the gods might know his greatness. To this end, he instituted a new practice whenever he held sessions of his court. All who would enter the presence of the Revered Counselor, it was decreed, must first dress in plain garments. Marks of station, such as the golden lip- and ear-plugs favored by Nexalan nobility, or the glowing pluma capes in their brilliant colors and airy lightness, must be covered. Only Naltecona, alone in the throneroom, would be dressed in splendor.
Though the edict was the cause of some consternation among the nobles and war leaders, none dared disobey the great ruler. A special attendant was appointed to stand at the door to the throne room, and he was given an ample supply of plain cloaks and mantles to provide for the needs of visitors.

A Decade of Omens

It was also during the construction of the palace that omens began to disturb the citizens of Nexal. It can now be seen that these omens portended the end of the True World, though the fact was only recognized at the time by a few priests, mostly followers of the nearly forgotten Scholar. The clerics of the other gods, almost universally, interpreted these occurrences as indications of the insatiable hunger of the gods. More and more sacrifices were offered, a frenzy of killing that would outdo even Naltecona’’s predecessors in bloodletting, coming to its inevitable climax on the Night of Wailing.
The first of the portents appeared in the second year of Naltecona’’s reign, ten years before the coming of the foreigners. A great light, blazing brighter than the brightest star, appeared in the sky over Nexal, hanging motionless overhead. It appeared every day for twenty days, and then vanished, as mysteriously as it had arrived. Panicked by this dire portent, and mindful of the fact that no great sacrifice had occurred in over a year, Naltecona immediately ordered an expedition against Kultaka, for the purposes of hastily gaining prisoners to place on the altar of the Nameless General.
But shrewd Takamal, venerable war chief of Kultaka, had lost none of his acuity in the sixty years of his rule. As so often before, he tricked the inexperienced Nexalan army into a hasty advance, and then he cut off the first section of the force with a savage counterattack. Few Kultakan prisoners were gained, while many Nexalans were marched to the altars of their enemy. In punishment for their failure, Naltecona ordered the commanders of his own army to be sacrificed in lieu of the elusive captives.
After the return of this expedition, another portent rocked Nexal: the temple of the Nameless General, located high atop the great pyramid in the center of the city, burst into flames, although from no apparent source of combustion. It burned away entirely, leaving the statue of the god within it a molten lump of rock. Fortunately, this was not the original pillar found by Tecco centuries earlier; that holy relic was ensconced within the pyramid itself, buried beneath many feet of solid stone.
The next omen occurred one year after the first, and also was evidenced in the sky over the city. On one summer morning, the citizens of the city awakened to see a deep red sunrise wash across the sky. Unlike the typical colors of dawn, however, the red color deepened during the day, until the sky seemed as if it had been drenched with blood. The bizarre and frightening color lasted only that one day, but the effect was profoundly disturbing to all who beheld it. Naturally, the clerics of the god of war spent the entire day in arduous execution of any and all who could be dragged to their altars. When the next day dawned normally, the priests pointed out the obvious fact that their gory devotions had returned the sky to its normal shade.
The omens continued, one per year, in a steady cadence of doom. The next year, starting on the exact anniversary of the blood-colored sky, Mount Zatal rumbled and spewed steam and ash into the air. The mountain belched thus for twelve days, until the sky over the great valley hung heavy with smoke, and the surrounding peaks were obscured behind the thick haze. On the thirteenth day, the mountain fell silent and a breeze sprang up from the east, carrying the soot and grime away.
The next year the omen came through the words of a hunter, a bowman of Palul who spent much time in the brush. He claimed to have encountered a deer, taller and broader than any stag he had seen before. A mane of bright feathers surrounded the animal's neck, and it stood still before the hunter, presenting. a perfect target. He shot arrows at it, but the missiles disintegrated before they struck the creature. Then, the animal spoke. It told the hunter to travel to Nexal, and to speak to the Revered Counselor, relating what he had seen. The man did so, but Naltecona demanded more information. Trembling, the hunter could only repeat his instructions. The counsellor ordered the hapless fellow sacrificed, and then entered into a long period of brooding introspection, trying to decipher the murky will of the gods.
For the first time, Naltecona began to wonder if the portents signified something other than the hunger of the gods for more hearts. The feathered mane, described by the hunter as encircling the deer's neck, gave him some misgivings. The only other tale of such a thing in his experience was the circlet of feathers surrounding the throat of the Plumed Serpent, the Scholar himself. It occurred to Naltecona that perhaps the omens were intended to prepare him for the return of that great, long-vanished god.
The following year, another omen seemed to confirm this suspicion, for this premonition came in the form of the Revered Counselor’s own dream. In his sleep he saw an image of a great canoe, sailing shoreward from the Eastern Ocean. Great billows of white smoke billowed above the canoe, and Naltecona felt compelled to kneel upon the sandy shore. The canoe did not strike landfall in his dream, but the meaning seemed clear: who, other than a god, could compel the Revered Counselor of Nexal to kneel?
But the next year brought a more ominous sight. A great sandstorm raged in the House of Tezca, the great desert south of the valley of Nexal. From the slopes of Mount Zatal or Mount Popol, observers could look southward and see the dust cloud formed there. It towered higher and higher into the sky, far greater than any mountain, with steeply sloping sides ascending upward to a flat crest. The shape was easily recognizable as a pyramid. Some force caused the dust to billow for six days, and for all that time the image of the monstrous pyramid loomed in the desert to the south, mocking the Nexala with its intangible greatness. Again the clerics of the Nameless General pleaded for more captives, more hearts, and Naltecona reluctantly agreed. This time; he placed his nephew, Lord Poshtli, in command of the army, and he sent the troops against Kultaka.
Not since Chalco had any Nexalan leader known such success against the Kultakans. Takamal led his warriors skillfully, but Poshtli refused to be drawn into a trap. He advanced slowly, guarding all flanks of his army, and then withdrew when he felt that he had captured enough prisoners to please the priests. Some Nexala were lost, naturally, but the expedition, on the whole, was judged a tremendous success. Poshtli became the Revered Counselor's most trusted adviser, and his order of the Eagle Knights was raised to a greater status than ever before.
The following year, however, the citizens of the city were stunned to look upward toward the snow-capped summit of Mount Zatal. Overnight, the once-white snowfields at its lofty crest had turned bright crimson, as if they had been drenched with blood. With much wailing and fearful speculation, the priests made their sacrifices, and carefully watched the great mountain. After ten days, the snow returned to its normal color.
A year later, Naltecona’’s second wife gave birth to a son on the day of the expected omen. The child was born dead; more significantly, his skin was a pale white, unlike the dark ruddy color of a healthy Maztican infant.
The ninth omen occurred a year before the landing of the Golden Legion - ironically, about the same time that the captain-general was making his appeal for funds to the merchants of Amn. This time, three of the four lakes of the valley erupted in mysterious waves, billowing clouds of steam, and other mystical turbulence. Only the fourth lake, the shallow and brackish one, remained calm. That fourth lake, of course, was the Lake of the Plumed Serpent.
This seemed to confirm Naltecona’’s suspicions, and he began to believe that the Scholar did indeed prepare to return to Maztica. With nine omens behind them, and the number ten being the most significant in the Maztican counting system, everyone from the Revered Counselor to the lowliest slave began to stare suspiciously at the sky, the mountains, the lakes - everywhere - as the tenth year drew to a close.

The Last Omen

On the tenth anniversary of the star's arrival, the nobles of the court stood in nervous anticipation around the throne. Naltecona, pretending nonchalance, could barely conceal his own agitation. Unfortunately, for palace decorum at least, they had to wait for the duration of the long day, for the final omen did not arrive until sunset. At that time, Naltecona led the procession of priests and captives to the top of the great pyramid. There, under the darkening sky, the Revered Counselor performed several of the ritual sacrifices himself as was his right and, occasionally, his custom.
Immediately after he had thrown these hearts into the maw of the Nameless General’s statue, the portentous moment arrived. The tenth omen came in the form of a beast from the sky, a creature unlike anything previously seen in the True World. It descended to the top of the pyramid, and all who could see it - which included most of the city’s population - trembled in awe. It was described, by the cleric Coton, as “shaped like a bird, having no feathers, and covered in leathery skin like a crocodile”. Modern speculation tentatively identifies the creature as a wyvern, though a unique one. Unique because its chest was formed of a dark, shiny substance, like a mirror. All who witnessed the creature saw themselves reflected in that mirror - all, except Naltecona. He stood close to the creature and stared into the mirror. There, he received the final omen.
From the counselor's later descriptions, it seems that in his vision he saw evidence of the ships of the Golden Legion, and of mounted soldiers and footmen wearing steel breastplates. All these things were so foreign to him that he may perhaps be forgiven if he suspected that he witnessed the coming of a god. The coming of the wyvern, incidentally, coincided almost to the day with the first landfall of Cordell’’s troops, along the coastline of Payit. Faced with this indisputable evidence of great changes occurring in his world, Naltecona tried desperately to overcome his fear. Although he was a man well-prepared to face the known challenges of his empire, this was an invasion from beyond his world; something that his imagination could not effectively grasp.
His reign, from this time onward, is marked by tragic indecision. Counseled by his priests and war leaders that his nation was being invaded by men, he could never bring himself to fully believe that these invaders were mere mortals. Always in the back of his mind lingered the legends of the Scholar’s return, and in the person of Cordell he suspected that he faced a returning, omni-powerful deity.

The Campaign of the Golden Legion

The legion was small in numbers, but large in audacity, courage, arrogance, and self-confidence. Cordell had brought a mere five hundred men with him, and some forty horses. True, the men were the most skilled veterans of a mercenary brigade that had won fame up and down the length of the Sword Coast. Well-organized into smaller companies of crossbowmen, swordsmen, longbowmen, spearmen, and cavalry, the Golden Legion was certainly the equal of any other similarly-sized unit in Toril.
Yet how did this small band defeat, not once but several times, Maztican armies numbering in the tens of thousands, fighting with a fanatical fury to defend their homes against invasion? It was not necessarily Cordell’’s intent to battle his way through Maztica; indeed, at such times as diplomacy served his purposes, he tried to avoid military conflict. However, he was required to prove the mettle of his force on several different occasions. Such demonstrations proved necessary before the Mazticans would allow him to negotiate from any kind of advantageous position.
The first land to feel the tread of foreign boots was Payit, the easternmost nation of Maztica, By coincidence, or perhaps immortal design, Cordell’’s first landfall occurred at the cliff-face known as Twin Visagesthe two faces carved into the bluff, in anticipation of the Scholar’s return. This fact could only serve to strengthen Naltecona’’s belief that the new arrivals were in fact representatives of the returning god.
The Payit Revered Counselor, Caxal, was of two minds regarding the foreigners. Should he greet them as guests, like the merchants who arrived periodically from Nexal? Or should he fight them as invaders? The latter course, naturally, was urged by the priests of the Nameless General and the war leaders among the Payits. Events swiftly moved beyond the counselor's control, when a fanatical priest coerced a small band of warriors into attacking a band of Cordell’’s scouts. Other Payit warriors witnessed the counterattack, and by the end of the first day of the landing, battle lines had been drawn. As added kindling to the fires of war, one of the two women who sailed with Cordell was taken captive by this priest and sacrificed on the altar of the Nameless General.
Unfortunately for the cause of peace, she happened to be the daughter of the expedition's chief cleric, Bishou Domincus. The Bishou, understandably enough, developed a passionate hatred for all things Maztican. Cordell sailed westward a short distance, leaving Twin Visages for the more sheltered lagoon near the Payit capital of Helmsport. Here, the Payit army moved forward to meet the invaders.

The Battle of Ulatos

The Battle of Ulatos was a day-long struggle of savage intensity. Thousands of Maztican archers showered the legionnaires with arrows, though the stone-tipped missiles proved woefully ineffective against the metal armor of Cordell’s force. Payit spearmen advanced in great waves, only to be met by the small, compact formations of the legionnaire infantry. While the native forces could easily engulf the smaller companies of their enemies, they could not force them to break ranks. The Eagle Knights soared into the battle, in an attempt to encircle some advanced companies of legionnaires, but for the first time, powerful sorcery wracked the surface of the True World. Cordell's wizard-mistress, the albino-elf Darien, blasted the eagles with lightning, fire, and blasts of her deadly wand of frost.
Still, the battle hung in the balance, but now Cordell launched his horsemen into the attack. His riders had been concealed during the early parts of the battle, and their arrival totally broke the morale of the Payit troops. Never having seen horses before, they assumed that each steed with its rider was in fact one monstrous creature - the body of a great beast, surmounted by the head and torso, and mind, of a cunning soldier. The riders, under the command of the savage Captain Alvarro, embarked on a spree of bloodletting even after the Payit army had abandoned the fight; this was merely the first of the excesses committed by the less disciplined members of Cordell’s force.
But the end result remained: the Payit nation, inheritor of a great cultural tradition and a long history of art and science, fell to a force of five hundred men, following one day’s battle.

The Conqueror Plans

Swiftly the pattern of conquest was established. Darien used magic to interpret the speech of the Payits, and Cordell demanded that the natives bring all of their gold to him. Meanwhile, the cleric of Kol Korran - religious adviser to the expedition - set about destroying the temples devoted to the Maztican gods. This cleric's work was carried out with vengeful thoroughness, for his only daughter had been the first foreigner sacrificed upon a Maztican altar.
Objects of art were destroyed so that their golden components could be removed. The Payits, nevertheless, were meticulously thorough in gathering their store of gold and presenting it to the conquering leader. Cordell, and all the legionnaires, were astounded at the trove that they gathered, realizing already that the expedition had been made profitable. At the same time, however, the invaders heard tales of wondrous Nexal. The gold hoarded there, it was said, would make a mountain beside the paltry hill of Payit wealth. Naturally - in fact, inevitably - Cordell determined that Nexal would be the ultimate objective of his expedition.
First, however, he would require a secure base on the coast. His troops and many Maztican laborers, under the command of a dwarven engineer, constructed a huge earthen rampart beside the lagoon of Helmsport. Here, in a secret location, the gold of the Payits was buried. Meanwhile, several of the ships scouted eastward, to see if an improved anchorage could be discovered that lay closer to their goal. However, though a vast bay did cut into the shore, much closer to Nexal than Ulatos, the bottom was covered with treacherous shoals, and at low tide, many parts of the bay became marshy salt flats. Thus, it was decided that Helmsport would remain the expedition's base.
Finally, Cordell's preparations were complete. A small garrison, under the command of a veteran sergeant-major, would remain in Helmsport to guard the base, and to serve as a reminder to the Payits that their conquerors had not forgotten them. The rest of Cordell's legion, now accompanied by some five thousand Payit warriors, prepared to march inland.

The Great March

Before his departure, however, the captain-general performed an act considered by some to be madness, while others found in it the proof of his iron fitness to command. While the fifteen ships that had carried his legion to the shores of the True World stood in the placid waters of the lagoon, Cordell ordered each of them burned. Appalling in its totality, it was an act that forcefully cemented his men together, for they all understood that the future lay before them.
The expedition set out for Nexal, by way of Kultaka. Here, again, Cordell found his generalship tested. The warlike Kultakans, still under the leadership of the venerable Takamal, had long held their borders against every Nexalan onslaught. They were not about to submit to some tiny force of invaders. Although the Kultakans had heard the tale of the Battle of Ulatos, they had never held much respect for the fighting abilities of the Payits. They were confident that they would be able to present a much firmer opposition to the passage of the Golden Legion. Cordell’’s force, backed up by his reluctant Payit allies, marched into Kultaka. Takamal selected a high, mountainous valley as his battlefield; here he prepared a defense against the incursion. He had the advantage of numbers - a factor he had rarely possessed in his battles with the Nexala - and also of defensive terrain.
Once again the Golden Legion moved into the attack, well-armored against the shower of missiles directed against them from the heights above. The horses charged, but Takamal - having heard of these bizarre creatures - had laid a trap. The reckless Alvarro led his advisers into rough terrain, and here the Jaguar Knights of the Kultakans attacked, in feline form. The battle began to go badly for the legion, but Takamal had not reckoned with the wizard, Darien. The sharp-minded elf woman observed the commanding role of the war chief, high on the ridge, and it was a simple matter for her to teleport to his side and slay him with explosive magic. With the death of their leader, the Kultakans lost heart, and once again Cordell and his legion marched triumphantly into a conquered city.
The Kultakans did not have the gold treasures of the Payit, but they offered something even more valuable: a well-trained, highly motivated army that had long nursed a grudge against the Nexala. The shrewd captain-general wasted no time exploiting this ancient feud. He recruited some twenty thousand Kultakans to march with him, and now he turned toward the final leg of his march: the journey to Nexal itself.

Naltecona’'s Uncertainty

All the time of this approach, Naltecona wavered between a belief that these strangers were in fact the attendants of the god the Scholar, returned to his people as he had once promised; and a fear that they were a human enemy, an invading army the like of which the True World had never known. Now, with the defeat of the Kultakans, he was forced to make a final decision. His counselors - mostly priests and war leaders - almost universally counseled resistance to the marching legion. Additionally, the creed of the Nameless General virtually demanded battle, and no Revered Counselor could overlook the fact that the Nexala were in fact the chosen children of that god. It seemed incalculably reckless to risk the displeasure of the one who had overseen the tribe's dramatic successes to this point.
Indeed, it is something of a testimony to Naltecona’’s restraint that he even considered a peaceful welcome for the strangers. But, inevitably, the counsels of war ultimately prevailed. Still, the lessons of the battles of Ulatos and Kultaka were not lost on the Nexalan leaders. The foreigners thus far had proven invincible in face-to-face engagements - and no tribe better appreciated the fighting prowess of the Kultakans than did the Nexala. So the war chiefs of Nexal, supported finally by Naltecona, planned to start the battle by surprise.
It soon became clear that Cordell’’s march would bring him into the Nexalan country at the town of Palul. Here, then, they would fight - but only on the terms selected by Naltecona. The Revered Counselor ordered a great feast prepared, a festival to welcome the foreigners to his lands. The town square of Palul was given over to festive decorations, and venison; turkey, mayz, and many other foods were prepared. When the foreigners were enjoying their food, and the mildly alcoholic otcal, fully armed warriors would spring from concealment and slaughter them all.

Ambush Reversed

When the Golden Legion arrived at Palul, it was welcomed by some of the highest-ranking nobles of Nexal - including the leaders of the orders of Jaguar and Eagle Knights. The Nexala asked only that the Kultakans refrain from entering the town; the frictions, they explained, between the lifelong enemies would place an undue strain on the festivities. Reluctantly, and suspiciously, Cordell agreed.
Before the celebration fully began, however, the elven mage Darien used her powers to charm one of the Nexalan warriors. From this unwitting source, she learned of the plot to attack at the height of the feast. She reported to Cordell, and his men were swiftly warned. Before the ambush could be launched, the Golden Legion struck in a savage, pre-emptive attack. The Kultakan warriors outside the town had also been warned, and they set upon their ancient enemies with glee. In a few minutes, the feast became a scene of massacre and carnage, with the stunned Mazticans completely overwhelmed by the suddenness of the turnabout, coupled with the powerful magical attacks of the legion's spellcasters.
By the end of the day, most of the wooden and thatch houses in the town had burned away, and the temple atop Palul's small pyramid had been sacked. The surviving Nexalan warriors, as well as the people of the town, streamed toward the valley of Nexal in a pathetic, terrified mass. Cordell and his allies remained in full control of the town. Word of this setback reached Naltecona with the force of a shocking blow. Cordell followed up his victory with an immediate march on the great city among the lakes, and Naltecona lost all heart for resistance. Two days later, when the legion reached the causeway leading to Nexal on its glorious island, it was greeted with flowers, a grand procession of nobles and maidens, and even Naltecona himself.

Victorious Entry

Thus the foreigners finally entered the fabled city, not as conquerors but as guests. Naltecona gave them for quarters the entire, sprawling palace of his father, Axalt. Even the Kultakans were allowed into the city; Cordell used the experience of Palul as proof that his allies should remain nearby. The abortive ambush and its subsequent massacre were subjects addressed only briefly by the two leaders. Naltecona denied any foreknowledge of the attack and promised that the wrongdoers would be punished. Though Cordell undoubtedly knew of his host’’s complicity in the attack, he nevertheless seemed content, initially, with this resolution.
Yet events moved quickly forward with the discovery of a great vault of hidden gold by the legionnaires, together with an attempt on Cordell's life by a berserk Jaguar Knight. The captain-general reacted by abducting Naltecona and holding the Revered Counselor himself hostage in the legion's quarters! Other events occurred, which seemed like nothing at the time. A woman reached the city, and she wore upon her shoulders a cloak made from a single, giant feather. Then the motive, harbinger of the Scholar, appeared in the palace of Axalt.
A terrible stalemate remained in place. The followers of the Nameless General, led by the Patriarch Hoxitl and his cult of the Viperhand, urged war. Lord Poshtli, remembering his uncle's wishes, counseled patience. But conditions were too taut, and finally the Nexala - led by the Nameless General’s cult - attacked. Naltecona perished in the onslaught, slain, it has been proved now, by an agent of the war god. For two days the Mazticans hurled themselves at the legion, which was barricaded in the palace of Axalt. Blood slicked the stones of the great plaza, but no breach could be forced into the legion's defense.
Still, the legion was surrounded and cut off. It had no choice but to attempt to fight its way out of the city. On a dark and rainy night, they charged forth, and made their way in a long, fighting column to the causeway leading from the island city to the mainland. But Cordell's losses were brutal, and the bloody battle raged with increased savagery. Hundreds of legionnaires perished on Hoxitl’’s altar, and finally, the patriarch of the Nameless General plunged his knife into the bishop of Kol Korran, Cordell’s most powerful cleric.
The convulsion of god-power resulted in many things: immediately the great volcano Zatal erupted, spewing ash and lava on the valley below. As the ash fell, it touched the blood-frenzied members of the Cult of the Viperhand - and they became Diablos, and Nargacugas, and Bishatens. They set upon the humans of all races with terrible savagery.
Then the presence of another god, the Plumed Serpent, made itself felt: though it was the height of summer, the waters of the Lake of the Scholar suddenly froze, allowing many humans to escape the dying city. The survivors of the Golden Legion, including Cordell, and the people of Nexal fled together, forced by the pursuit of the beasts toward the south. All of the humans who could flee escaped Nexal on the Night of Wailing. The monsters spread outward across the face of Maztica, sacking and slaying, and pursuing the fleeing humans across the desert.
But among these convulsions, a few other events were swept along: the three predictions of the Scholar’s return, recorded long ago in legend, had been fulfilled. The couatl had been seen, and a woman had come to Nexal wearing a Cloak-of-One-Plume. Finally, the summer ice had allowed the mass escape from Nexal. Further indications of his return came from a miracle. As the people fled southward into the bleakest lands of the True World, the desert bloomed around them, providing water and food for a hundred thousand refugees. Finally, it led them to another rich valley, with lakes and fish and room for a great population. Here the people of Maztica began another city, called Tukan, and soon it would rival even Nexal in greatness. Helmsport linked with Ulatos, under the governorship of Cordell himself, to become a thriving port city linking Maztica and the Sword Coast.
But the arrival of the Scholar had been foretold to the east, and here marched the great army of monsters, following the walking image of the Nameless General himself. Here, too came more soldiers from the Sword Coast. Cordell joined them with his remnants, together with fighters from all the tribes of the Payit and Far Payit lands. They stood against the horde on the field of Ulatos, and then the great image of the Feathered Dragon soared inland from the Eastern Sea. The army of beasts fell back upon the ruins of Nexal, to glower and growl among their ruins, uncaring of the vast treasures that lie buried beneath them.
The Scholar and the Nameless General both ruled from their places in the heavens, and schemed and raged against each other. But the cult of sacrifice has, for the most part, been shown for the brutal and senseless ritual it was. While some shades of evil linger, and cults still remember the ways of the old gods, the future of Maztica was one of life, not death.

Arrival of the Khajiit and Lizardfolk

Shortly before the destruction that the Spellplague would cause, the continent of Maztica would face one more attack from a foreign invader. However, unlike the Golden Legion who merely sought to plunder the gold and wealth of the continent, rumor has it that the Beast Pirates wanted something more esoteric.
In the early morning, a small fleet of ships bearing the flag of the Beast Pirates arrived on the shores of Maztica, led by the flagship of Meow-Meow Fuzzy Face himself. Shortly after landing, the pirates were attacked by a band of Payit and Nexal warriors, untrusting of such ill folk landing on their shore. Despite the countless waves crashing against the makeshift defenses the pirates assembled on the beach, the Payit and Nexal warriors were unable to break them. Eventually, the tide was turned completely and the native warriors dispersed when the ‘Black Moon’ Vignar joined the battle, slaying dozens by herself.   With their beachhead secure, the pirates quickly headed into the jungle, led by Captain Meow-Meow himself. What occurred during this expedition is unknown, as the Beast Pirates are not the most open-lipped group about their activities. However, there are rumors that the pirates under Vignar and Meow-Meow assaulted the lost city of Nexal, slaying and capturing many beasts before reaching the Great Pyramid. While Vignar guarded the outside the Captain entered the dark passages and claimed some unknown treasure and boon.
According to scouts, the expedition returned with several captured great beasts tied up and cages, along with several crates filled with unknown contents. After those were quickly loaded up the pirates shipped off back to their homeland, leaving Maztica forever.
On the way home, one of the ships reportedly crashed off of Lantan, leading to a mighty battle between the Beast Pirates trying to recover their cargo and the mercenaries trying to push them off the island. According to some of the survivors, apparently, the battle ended with Meow-Meow himself battling some kind of bestial humanoid. The battle only ended with Meow-Meow unleashing previously unseen lava powers against the bestial man, finally shattering his power and sending him to the ground, his chest open in a massive gash. While the bestial man was reportedly slain, others say he shed his name and disappeared into history instead.

Maps

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  Maztica

Alternative Name(s)

The True World, The Burning Lands

Type

Continent