Zarthanon Firesky: Descent into a Darkened Flame

[Kanada]

I, Zarthanon Firesky, scholar and researcher, write this testament in the likely event that my experiments lead to an untimely demise. Let this document, a treatise of sorts on foolishness, serve as a warning to all who might follow my path.

To understand how I got here, you must know where I began. First of all, no one knows who my parents were. I was discovered on the steps of a monastery that housed a sect of the Brothers and Sisters of Pure Flame. They took me in and raised me as best they could, giving me a good education and pointed me in the direction of the pursuit of knowledge.

The Abbott of the monastery could see from a young age that I was not suited to the life of a monk, being restless by nature and all too charming. "A monk of our Order must survive by his dedication and steadfastness, not his ability to sway others to his view."

That said, they still kept me around as something of a mascot, and I grew up with a great appreciation for their beliefs. Indeed, I took up the worship of Kossuth as they espoused, being able to see the glory of both his protection, and righteous destruction.

I continued on this way for some time, idly reading books, writing treatises on philosophy, basically the life of a scholar. One day the Abbott came to me and sat me down and told me it was time for em to make my way in the world. Knowing that I had only known the monastery and their ways my whole life, he told me that they had decided to commission me to do a scholarly study on the subject of Fire.

The Abbott explained that they had come to the conclusion that by understanding fire better, they would be able to grasp some small part of the god. He explained that they would give me 1000 gold and send me out into the world, to find out what I could on my own, and also to seek out other sources of information.

This, dear reader, is where I made my mistake. I took the money and agreed to do this study for them. If I had been smarter, or had any glimpse of what awaited me, I would have run off with the money and had a grand old time. Instead, I set out on a journey that would take me down dark and dim tracks.

I first started my investigation with the people you would expect: priests, wizards, intellectuals. I learned of the laws that fire works under, and how it consumes the material it ignites. After a while though it seemed like I was just hearing the same story from everyone I talked to. As if they had found out this much and then just stopped.

So I began to search in other, less conventional places. I started asking shamans and witches, and that led to hags and other nasty beasts. I learned a few more things, but these simple practitioners didn't know much. If I was going to learn all I could about fire, I'd have to do something more drastic.

In my travels I had come across several warlocks, who upon finding I had a genuine interest were more then happy to show me their powers, and the powers of the demons they could summon. It was clear that the Hellfire Warlocks had some deeper understanding of fire, and their familiars even more.

I had casually asked one of them how he had obtained his powers, and while he threw me a look of disbelief, he had explained the process he had used to summon the demon he had obtained his powers from. I made as if this was information I desired only out of scholarly interest, but inside my heart was beating fast.

In the solitude of the lodging house I was staying in, I arrayed the tools to summon a being from the lower planes. I pulled out the scrap of parchment which I had paid the last of my gold for, on which was supposedly written the name of a demon. I drew my circle, careful that the edges matched, and scrawled the binding runes around it. If they failed, I would be this beings lunch.

Drawing a knife across my palm, and then smearing the blood in the center of the circle, I began a chant I had learned from another warlock. The blood began to boil and eventually burst into flame, and out of that flame stepped a demon. Well, I suppose it was a demon, it was red and sort of scaly, with pointy ears, fangs and claws for fingers.

"You've summoned me, Zarthanon. Are you ready to pay the price for Knowledge?" he rumbled in a surprisingly deep voice. I might have shied away at the thought of losing my soul, but the word "Knowledge" kept ringing in my head. What was my soul compared to the knowledge I could provide to the world?

"I am."

"So our bargain is made. So Let It Be Written, So Let It Be Done."

The pain was excruciating. The demon spoke a word, it was a word almost without sound, and it's place was the color black and it swirled about me. I could feel something being pulled out. Something that should have been intangible now had a sensation.

"I have taken a tiny bit of your soul. When you die the rest will seek it out, and you will be mine. Enjoy your powers, try to extend your life, do whatever you want. In the end, you will be mine," his voice echoed as he faded out, ending with a booming laugh.

As I laid curled in a ball on the floor, I knew I had made a huge mistake. I could feel the doom of this hanging over my head. Unfortunately, I had nowhere to turn. The monks would never understand, and if I went to a paladin of good he would kill me. My only choice was to become so powerful I could wrest that bit of soul back form the demon. I carefully stored the parchment with his name, I would be needing it.

I looked down at my hand as a purple web of energy crawled around it like a spastic spider. Burn!