I fled the battle and came to the small community. Spread out. It would take some work to send it to the Destroyer’s furnace. It was night, there was no one about. There was an ancient stone surrounded by flowers the color of blood. I touched it and my soul came alight and then was calm once more.
I came to a hall for craftsman and artisans. There were some strange devices about. They put ideas in my mind for machines of death to send the unsuspecting to the Raging One’s embrace. There are no books to read, no teachers for me, so I must learn myself. My tribe met some followers of Grand and so I know of some of the workings of metal. I have never done so myself.
Someone in the hall stirred and I hid behind a cool furnace. She grumbled about pests below. Spiders and beetles. Poison to be found. I snuck down and waded through rats and beetles and spider. I was overcome. All fell to oblivion and I smiled. But then I was ripped from the Raging One’s embrace and found myself before the ancient stone. I am powerful now. I returned to the insects and smote them once more. I harvested some poison from spiders. I fell to a moving puddle. I awoke by the stone and smiled. I could taste the oblivion I am promised many times and return to do Pyrtechon’s working.
I met an elf. Clad in black. Silent as a shadow. Shadow, I call him. He calls me ugly. Perhaps I will kill him. Perhaps he will kill me. For now we walk together. He tells me of a cave in a forest with riches. I tell him to take me there. We walk for many miles and days. Mostly we say nothing.
Shadow and I sneak through a city. There is a temple there. Of Toran. I make the mark of the Destroyer on it. Small and quick. To remind me that they must burn. To let others like me know there are others like me.
We come to a forest, there are more beetles. Some have glands to make fire. Some of acid. They will be used in my machines. There are spiders. I take their poison.
We go in to the cave. There are lizard goblins. We kill them and I take some teeth. There is metal there. I will use it for my machines. The goblins have gold. I take it. I find a merchant who will talk. I give him gold for a blade and armor. The merchant runs.
I go to the cave now. I take metal out. The goblins and lizards hate me. I spill their blood. I hew their heads. I try to make pure metal. I must learn. I find some tools. I make wire for my machines.
I must find deliverance. I must spread the oblivion of the Destroyer soon. I can hear the Sorcerer in my ears urging me on. I will find a family to burn soon. The cry of Pyrtechon must echo through the lands.
