Like the majority of the captive crowd, for the first time Crag Hack witnessed the unhooded face of a Morlat. His skin was rather desaturated and muted with a grey tint but possessed otherwise the same physical structure any other human would have. The only peculiarity was that the Morlat's eyes and mouths remained strangely unopened at all times.

Crag was very familiar with the communication methods of the Morlats, only hearing one speak with its own voice a few times in his life. Morlats adhered to a strict code of caste where verbal communication with non-Morlats was forbidden not to mention that it was considered disgusting to associate with inferior beings directly. Instead, Morlats engaged in a practice called Mouthpiecing where they would essentially speak to inferior beings through the mouths of others by acquiring some form of physical contact with a being, usually a palm on the back of the neck or head. Morlats themselves practiced silent intercommunication. When speaking to one another, they would grasp the back of eachother's skulls and proceed to communicate mentally.

When the Morlat tugged its dark hood off exposing its stoic and placid face, the first row of the crowd grew uneasy until the Morlat selected an older man from the crowd to join him on the small vantage of an elevation. As expected, the Morlat then put its ungloved hand on the cranium of the elderly man and proceeded to communicate with the crowd with a broken dialogue typical of all Morlat Mouthpiecing.

"Form groups... of six." The old man was clearly possessed by another presence, opening his mouth and awkwardly speaking as if he was chewing something. "Each member... his own tool." The Morlat and Mouthpiece then stood eerily still as the crowd formed groups and clumped together in an orderly fashion. Some men who were clearly companions or brothers were issued the same tool and forced apart from one another.

Crag looked around. There must be at least fifty other densily packed groups of men corraled into identical crowds, each engaged in their own group-forming session. Every other crowd seemed to have its own staple Morlat and Mouthpiece. Further off into the distance, he saw teams of men working on constructing various structures whose functions weren't physically determinable.

Most of the men of Crag's average build were equipped with hammer and nails and it took a while of digging through the crowd to finally come across a man with a large axe. They mutually nodded at eachother and then the man with the axe motioned to the large being next to him that wielded the biggest pickaxe Crag had ever seen a man carry. The colossal man smiled at Crag, obviously recognizing him from the rowboat, and even giggled excitedly. Crag directed the two of them to an area outside of the mass of men and went in to look for more. He turned around and saw that a particularly loud man had joined his party and was ordering around two newcomers. Six men. Being the last group formed, Crag waved the other five to an opening amongst the other groups and the Mouthpiece immediately continued.

"The final... seventh member of your group... will be one of us. Do as... we say. Morlat say is... final say." Done with the Mouthpiece, the elderly man crumbled to the ground.

A green-robed Morlat suddenly appeared behind Crag's group immediately placing a hand on the large man with the pickaxe. Shortly, the large man began drooling and slurring random strings of sounds. As far as Crag could distinguish from mere body language, the Morlat seemed both taken back and frustrated, removing his hand from the large man who instantly started giggling. The fact that the Morlat couldn't take control of the large man immensley interested Crag Hack and he even managed a slight smile. The man with the axe was then Mouthpieced. "Follow..."

The Morlat marched right through the group -- the men making sure to get out of its way -- and led the way to a small clearing surrounded by tall trees. He clenched the shoulder of the man with the axe. "Line up, minions."