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Well, the obvious place that will hold your weight is the platform that was most likely designed to accommodate visits by, say, a large undead dragon.
The guard is correct, though; it does not take long at all for another lizardman to show up - wearing the same kind of armor as the two guards, but armed with a bone-tipped spear instead of javelins.
"Come," he says, and turns and heads back into the tree.
The path moves along thick branches where the top surface has been flattened into walkways. It quickly becomes clear that, while the main structure may be a single plant, there is far more variety than that. Two types of luminescent fungus cast yellow-green light over carefully tended gardens of pale herbs and shrubs that have clearly never seen the light of day.
The upper reaches of this place feel something like an elven tree city - but the lower levels are different; wooden walls close in and surround the path you're on until it feels as if you're walking through a sort of a living cave.
It is in this section that you reach what must be the chief's council chamber. A fire - the first one you've seen here - burns in a pit in the center of the floor. On the far side sits a grizzled old warrior, his face scarred from combat, but his wooden plate armor polished and well maintained. A few advisors stand beside (and a few steps behind) him: one much younger male in lighter wood plate armor, and two females adorned with wood and leather charms, one old, one young.
As you approach, the chief slams one fist against his own chest. "Maruk," he says, and then points at you. "You?"
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