A Rekindled Flame



  • Character Name: An Elderly Dwarf
    Player Log-in: Rei_Jin

    As he awoke that night, like he had many of the nights before, Ash (the name he had taken for himself) found himself disturbed by the memories that came back in the form of haunting nightmares...

    His wife lay beside him, but she slumbered the deep sleep of death now. The roof had fallen in, collapsed by the battles raging for control of the Hold, and he had only barely survived, having rolled to the left rather than the right. Had he rolled the other way, might he have died, but saved her?

    His children had gone to be with the ancestors as well, having joined the guard and falling to their grey kin, whose anger seemed to burn with an unquenchable thirst. Should he have stayed in the guard himself? Perhaps he could have guided them, taught them better, maybe even stood in their place?

    There is no greater tragedy for a man, that to have to bury his loved ones, gone before their time. So instead of moving, he lay there, and waited for death to claim him.

    But it did not come. Instead, he was whisked, against his will, out of his home, in a daze. Some red-haired human in fullplate speaking the mother tongue to him, equal parts encouraging and chastising him to get him to move... somehow she managed it, and he found himself outside in the too bright light while the Hold was deliberately collapsed behind him, to stop the Greys getting out.

    Children gone, wife gone, home gone.

    A broken man, his life burnt out before him.

    Collapsing to his knees, he tore his beard from his face, roared his anger at the gods, and sobbed uncontrollably at his loss.

    That moment still burned him, and he cried, something he had done on a thousand nights and more since then. His tears still came, but they no longer soothed him like they once did, a balm against the pain he felt, a balm that was becoming less and less effective.

    So he rose from his mat, and dried his tears, picking up his staff and rolling up the mat to continue on his wanderings.

    "When a dwarf has nothing else he can do, he can at least be useful."

    Words spoken to him by his own father, who up until the day he died, had worked for the good of his kin. Even when his legs gave out, his father took the time to do engraving work for the smiths, or to show the younglings how to work the furnace and the basics of smelting and smithing.

    So Ash was doing what he could to be useful. He walked long distances, listening to folks troubles without judgment, and giving them what little advice he had to offer. He studied whatever he could find, in the hopes of it being of benefit in the future. He kept himself in shape, for "a weapon without defined form is useless", even though he knew his best days were behind him.

    Today he was on the road between Tyraturos and Eltabbar, in Thay, a land inhabited by an inordinate number of mages. He'd slept in some bushes on the side of the road, unconcerned for his own safety; none cared to bother a lone dwarf who clearly had nothing of wealth, other than the slavers, and he was too old to be of interest to them.

    Yet there was something of interest happening up ahead... a mage duel, and not the friendly kind, it seemed.

    "Arcanum Sizi'firim!"

    A fireball issued forth from one mage, engulfing the other, who seemed to utterly ignore it whilst lifting his own hands and casting a spell...

    "Incantium Dun'lohgnath!"

    A horrible ethereal skull seemed to fly towards the fire mage, but he held his nerve.

    Back and forth the spells went, with odd creatures appearing at the edges of his vision, drawn forth from the adjacent planes by the torrent of arcane power being poured out, feasting on the tidbits they could scavenge. Ash watched whilst the mages battled, unconcerned for his own safety, but at the same time, seeking to learn whatever he might.

    Suddenly, a fireball was thrown and counterspelled, but the counterspell went awry, and Ash found himself ground zero for an unexpected firey encounter... but he did not flinch, did not prepare himself.

    No, he closed his eyes and opened his arms, welcoming death.

    And yet, it did not come.

    As he stood there, not feeling the heat of the flames at all, he opened his eyes, and saw the ball of fire surrounding him on every side, yet not touching him at all.

    The mages stopped their duel and stared at him, absolutely astounded. The mage who favoured necromancy cursed loudly in Thayan and disappeared with a wave of his hand, having obviously teleported away or some such. But the mage who favoured evocation walked over to Ash, showing equal parts caution and curiosity.

    "Hello there, old man. I don't suppose you're a mage?" he asked Ash when he got within fifty feet of him, shouting to be heard over the roar of the flames.

    "Not last time I checked, no sir" was Ash's reply.

    "Then how are you doing... that?"

    "I admit that I'm not sure that I'm the one doing it, and if I am, I have absolutely no idea."

    With a few muttered words, the evoker drew the magic away from Ash, leaving the field silent except for their breathing.

    "I think... you had best come with me. Eltabbar is ahead, and there we may find some answers."

    Ash nodded... what else was there to do? If nothing else, he had someone to travel with for a time, and he may learn more of import in Eltabbar.

    Over several days Ash and the evoker, whose name it seems was Makain Corster, searched through the lore of the city of Eltabbar with little luck. There was no record of any kind of arcane ability that allowed one to somehow shield oneself from fire, whilst simultaneously suspending it around themselves. It was indeed similar to a Fire Shield spell, but Ash had shown no capacity to cast such a spell himself at any point in his life prior to that moment, and there was no record of anyone turning a fireball into a fire shield.

    It was whilst Makain was off drinking away his frustration at the lack of progress, that Ash stumbled upon what he had been seeking, albeit inadvertently. Walking along the main street, he saw a soaring temple in front of him, marked with symbols of fire, and covered in writing in a language he could not read.

    Thinking that at worst, he would learn something new, Ash headed towards this unknown to him temple, and entered, finding himself confronted by a completely foreign scene.

    Salamanders, fire elementals, Azers, and other beings of fire walked freely amongst humans, elves, dwarves, half-orcs, and more than a few gnomes. Each of them seemed to be focussed on some task or another, but each also seemed to be somehow where they belonged, as if this temple was their calling.

    An efreet in red robes floated up to Ash, and nodded to him, speaking first in a hissing voice that sounded like the crackle of flames, but when Ash did not respond, he switched to the trade tongue, although it sounded ill-fitting for his mouth.

    "What bringsss you here today, elderly one?"

    "I seek to understand something that happened to me."

    "Oh? And what isss that?"

    "I found myself the accidental target of a fireball, yet for some reason the flames did not touch me, and I was able to stand in the middle of it, while the fireball persisted around me far beyond its normal duration."

    The efreet scowled.

    "Such does not happen, elderly one."

    "Well it did, and that is why I am here. The two mages who witnessed it were most perplexed."

    Nodding but still scowling, the efreet floated off.

    "Wait here, I will enquire."

    After about thirty minutes, the efreet returned with a pair of dice.

    "There isss... sssomething odd about you, elderly one. Sssomething I cannot put my fingersss on. Will you allow me to cassst a divination, and asssk Kosssuth, Lord of the Sssacred Flame, for hisss wisssdom in thisss?"

    Ash nodded, and sat, unconcerned.

    As the efreet drew a sacred symbol around where Ash sat, the action in the temple seemed to shift gears and focus, with others beginning to show interest in the elderly dwarf and the actions of the efreet. Finally though, things were ready, the efreet chanted the words of the divination, and went into a trance, the dice in his hand.

    "Ssspeak Lord Kosssuth, through your ssservant, and inform usss with thessse blesssed dice.."

    Casting the dice towards Ash, the efreet howled an otherworldly howl, and sank down onto the floor. The room went silent as the dice clattered and rolled... coming up with a one and a three.

    As murmering went up, the efreet remained still... Ash stood, and went to lay a kind hand upon him, when the efreet looked up and gave him a gaze that pierced through to his very soul.

    As the efreet spoke, the voice that came forth was not his, but a voice that Ash would forever after refer to only as the sound that a volcano given a mouth would make.

    "The one who is known as Ash... these dice tell of what you seek. Answers to the one and three. Answers to the loss of three things... wife, children, home, and an answer to the one, why you still live."

    "The act of destruction that instead brought you sanctuary, we speak to the fireball becoming a shield, is no different to the loss of the three. For what should have been your undoing will instead see you reborn. It was given to you as a sign, that your loss will not be in vain."

    "He has marked you and chosen you, one who is known as Ash. A most fitting name, for from the ashes of destruction you will arise and serve the Fire Lord, Kossuth."

    "Give your life to Kossuth, and he will show you your life's purpose."

    A thousand emotions warred within Ash, but most strongly were two... fear, and love. The fear of loss, the fear of pain, the fear of suffering... but also, the love of his family, his home, his land. Battling for his heart, he found no room within it anymore for the gods of his people, and instead, he saw the truth; that the same fire that consumes, can also bring new life. A forest fire creates a way for the young saplings to grow.

    He knew his decision.

    "I give my life to Kossuth, and I cast aside the faith of my ancestors."

    "Swear it."

    "I swear it."

    "Then you are reborn, Ash, and your life is rekindled."

    A swirl of magic wrapped around Ash as he stood there, the flames in the temple flaring as the supernatural wind whipped through the building... touching his flesh, searing into it marks of flame and fire.

    Yet as suddenly as the wind had picked up, it died down, and Ash found himself thinking a new thought, completely unbidden.

    "I have to return to Narfell."