[Doesn't know how to filter, but it's in Nahuatl, so fuck off.
Arthas Itzcoliuhqui is shirtless (
ladies) as Aztec gods are wont to be, and visible on his chest is an ugly, black scar that curves around the left side. He traces it; being able to feel the snag in the skin is why he knows it's there because bliiiiind.]
Patecatl. Ixtlilton. Schweitzer. [YEAH YOU HEARD ME, SCHWEITZER.] You are gods of medicine and know ailments of the body. How does a mortal survive without teyolia?
I worry there are things about this place and the prisoners in it that you are not telling your brothers, Coyolxauhqui. How can men claim to fall to dust when killed?