| Icon | Name | Rarity | Family |
 | Maawe and Monetoo (I) | 3 | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 |
 | Maawe and Monetoo (II) | 3 | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 |
 | Maawe and Monetoo (III) | 3 | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 |
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| Table of Content |
| Maawe and Monetoo (I) |
| Maawe and Monetoo (II) |
| Maawe and Monetoo (III) |
Maawe and Monetoo (I)
 | Name | Maawe and Monetoo (I) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | A woven scroll from the People of the Springs telling of how Maawe the Saurian whelp created the hot spring. Different paragraphs of this seem to have been penned by poets of different eras. |
| Legends tell that in a time long past, proud dragons roamed freely across the expanses of Natlan, a land they called their home. Back then, before the humans of this land had formed their tribes, dragons were both larger and haughtier than the Saurians of the present day. Just as humans do now, the dragons had different tribes of their own, each ruled by ancient matriarchs. Back then, there were no hot springs that bubbled up from the earth, no lakes that glittered as calmly and clearly as gemstones. Oh, and certainly none of those clamorous wandering bards or phlegmatic hot spring poets. Back then, among the dragons that roamed this vast land of crimson earth, there was a young one that was not like the others. In their pride, dragons have always looked down upon the other beings of this world, whether they were envoys of the heavens or puny mortal souls. Even the wars of old could not erase their sense of overweening dignity; on the contrary, it was through these very fires of tribulation that their tenacity and pride were forged. But this young dragon was different. It was fascinated by the songs of the Monetoo, and in secret was even given to observing human behavior. Its name was Maawe, which in an ancient, long-forgotten language, meant "bit of string." Young Maawe had not lived through the ancient wars and could not understand the "virtues" of dragonkind. As far as it was concerned, nothing was more pleasing than cool moonlit nights and the warm shadows of red cliffs. "Such blatant indolence! How can this be tolerated in the Dragonlord's Palace? The puerile whelp must rediscover the ambition and fury of its noble heritage." Thus spake the dragon matriarch, decreeing that the young Maawe must leave the tribe to grow up like a "real dragon"— To harden its heart, to become as tenaciously proud as obsidian, and to be guided alone by cruel, lofty ambition... |
Maawe and Monetoo (II)
 | Name | Maawe and Monetoo (II) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | A woven scroll from the People of the Springs telling of how Maawe the Saurian whelp created the hot spring. Different paragraphs of this seem to have been penned by poets of different eras. |
| And thus, utterly alone, did Maawe step out into the boundless red wilderness. Just like a real dragon, it would endure the trials of scorching sun and desolation, Seeking out noble ambition and fury whilst cultivating a prideful, virtuous nature. In its wake followed the same Monetoo that had accompanied it through all those innocent dreams, And on a journey to find fury they set out together, perhaps not so lonely after all. Eastward Maawe trekked, towards the high mountains shrouded in sulfurous clouds. There it reached the canyons, there it stood before the pitch-black mines. Seeing its brethren seeking shiny crystals within the mountain, Maawe called out to greet them, But from that jet black cavern, the only response was the echo of Maawe's own voice. It turned out that these kinfolk had long since accustomed themselves to the still and silence around them, Now reduced to being creatures that lurked among the mountain rocks. Fury was not to be found among these rocks, so Maawe shrugged and left. Westward Maawe headed, to the long-dead forest of mirk and gloom. Passing the bones of its ancestors, it paid respect like a real dragon would. Before that grand palace woven from countless branches Maawe arrived. Seeing its brethren flying freely through the canopy, Maawe called out to greet them, But heard only the wind's rustling and swaying branches in return. It turned out that these kinfolk had long since accustomed themselves to the still and silence around them, Now reduced to being creatures that silently stalked the forest depths. Fury was not to be found by chasing Forest Boars, so Maawe shrugged and left. Southward Maawe rambled, to the brown prairies where rivers had dried up. Past the remnants of old dreams, those shattered aspirations of youth, And past the most ancient of cherished hopes, faded through age and degradation. Traversing a smoke-shrouded wasteland, Maawe stood before its brethren, Seeing that they had fallen into distant dreams among the fog, Maawe called out to greet them, And they responded warmly, inviting Maawe to join them in their wondrous dreaming. "Our brother, distinguished guest from afar — stay here, we implore you! Stay in our dreamland, and join us in creating past and present. Stay in our dreamland, and join us in dreaming of a wonderful tomorrow." The glorious past and future of dragonkind shone forth, lit up by the miraculous luster of their fantasy. But just as it was about to succumb to this enchantment, Maawe awoke to the sound of its companion's song. Fury was not to be found by dreaming, so Maawe shrugged and left. Northward Maawe wandered, to the untrodden edges of the land. Past the lavaflow delta, across the silent, blistering wilderness. Past the land where burning spirits danced, through the gate of stern black stone. Finally, Maawe and its companion arrived before the wise dragon, sat high upon its throne. "Young one, for what purpose have you come before me?" Thus mildly did the wise dragon address Maawe, marveling at what it saw. "I thought that my brethren's hearts had all been hardened by the war with the heavens, That the hatred that filled them had made them impervious to my advice. Yet today comes one before me, and such a young one at that. Tell me, what do you seek? Perhaps I might grant it as an exception." So Maawe told the wise dragon the whole story of its journey, Of the dreams it had once cherished, and cool moonlit nights, Of warm shadows of red cliffs, and the songs of the Monetoo, Of being exiled by the matriarch, and setting out in search of elusive fury. "Young one... A heart so artless, yet so audacious, You come before me seeking what I too cannot obtain. Leave this place. You shall not find the fury you seek here." Closing its obsidian gate, the wise dragon answered Maawe no more. |
Maawe and Monetoo (III)
 | Name | Maawe and Monetoo (III) |
| Type (Ingame) | Quest Item | |
| Family | Book, loc_fam_book_family_1053 | |
| Rarity | | |
| Description | A woven scroll from the People of the Springs telling of how Maawe the Saurian whelp created the hot spring. Different paragraphs of this seem to have been penned by poets of different eras. |
| So did the wise dragon's obsidian gate close for Maawe, and so disappointed, Maawe left. As they descended the mountain, the Monetoo — having accompanied Maawe all this way — began to lose its light and warmth, being far from phlogiston-rich lands as it was. It turned as pale as ash, and its song grew distant and faint. Despondent and begrieved, Maawe desperately sought a way to save its companion. But still the obsidian gate stayed firmly shut, the wise dragon undeigning to behold the youngling again. "...Scatter me in a pool of sulfur, bury me in the icy depths..." This was the voice that Maawe heard. Monetoo are unable to speak, but Maawe did not know this. And so, it decided to fulfill its companion's wish. After walking for untold hours, seeing through countless mirages, and surviving innumerable trials of deadly peril, Maawe arrived at a hot spring full of sulfurous pools. Uninhabitable for living beings, it was a place where even getting close might result in being burned by toxic gases and scorched by boiling acid. But miraculously, as Maawe scattered its companion's form into the sulfur, the boiling acid transformed into a clear spring before its very eyes. It was from this spring that the first poets of our tribe were born. As we Meztli say, "Poets and bards are born of sulfur" — for their words are scalding indeed. So did the young Maawe create Natlan's first hot spring. And so did Maawe make the hot spring its home. Its four limbs transformed into beautifully streamlined fins, its thin body became round, and thus it became the first of the Koholasaurs. Of course, Maawe did not forget its companion. How could it have forgotten the friend that had journeyed with it all that way? Maawe passed on all of the songs it had heard and learned to the humans born from the springs. That's right — to our ancestors. And to this day, the songs that we Meztli continue to pass down are echoes from that ancient era. |
Im not 100% sure but I think husk more damage and obsidian for more consistency.