10th of Flamerule

Bourdekin was not often bothered by the intense heat of Chult's jungles, but nevertheless she welcomed the chunk of ice slowly melting in the beak of her mask. As the water evaporated, cooling her face, she decided to continue working for Wakanga for as long as his ice house remained well-stocked. Or until she decided it was time to move on. Or until her goddess had other plans for her. For now, though, she was content to expand her knowledge of the Chultan Peninsula.
 
"Julqesk, I have arrived," Bourdekin hissed.
"Doctor, good to see you. Your Draconic pronunciation gets better every time you come. Unexpected for a softskin. Right this way."
 
The sleek gray Lizardwoman led her through the village, past several hatchlings skittering to and fro. Some of the elders stretched leisurely across sun-warmed rocks in front of their huts.
 
Julqesk led Bourdekin to a hut at the far end of the settlement and lifted the hide covering the entryway. Lord Groxxuzzixl lay on a woven grass cot, his breathing shallow, his once shining bronze scales now a dull tan. The doctor knelt by his side and took the Lizard King's claw.
 
"You are a fearsome warrior, Groxxuzzixl."
"That is 'Lord' to you, softskin."
"My goddess cares not for titles. We are all equals when we approach her. You are a fearsome warrior. You have proven yourself time and again. However, this battle is different. You win by letting go, not by holding on. The spoils of this war is an end to your suffering."
 
After a moment Bourdekin rose, her job complete.
 
"Are you sure you won't stay for the wake, Doctor?"
"No, Julqesk, you know I find Lizardfolk meat stringy. I'll see you again soon; after all, the challenges for his successor will begin in due time."