Role

Chapter 3

Irgech stood knee-deep within the flowing magma river, gazing about himself with a sense of grim satisfaction.
He had made it here, at last, to the heart of the Conflagration's realm. He had heard much talk of the ashes of no where, but to his mind, this was foolish.
It was obvious to him that the ashes were some where, and that where was here. Though he rejoiced, he did not allow himself a smile. It was not his way.

He had followed the face in the fires here, and it was that face which seemed to stare out at him wheresoever he looked. Eyes like embers, a mouth like a furnace.
Overlapping the face, other images, his people, standing guard in the passageways of Kiadana. Those who had braved this land with him, dying like animals.
Gutted like fish.
He could feel the One Law withering, like a physical thing within his breast. That singular directive that had defined him, his people, the world. Withering away. Softening.
In desperation, in rage, he cast his booming voice into the hellish surrounds, not a plea, but a cry of devotion and challenge, of defiance and supplication.

The enormous humanoid that answered his call was not what Irgech had expected, but it spoke with the voice of the Goddess nevertheless. The pact made with the Cherufe was simple.
The power to burn the world, to sunder and break and rend was his, to bring the very world to ash. In exchange, he made his vow.
All that he surveyed, all that he was, all that he would destroy and make, would be tribute to Her. He would revive the One Law, the strong would rise above the ash, but in time they too would fall.
This unending crucible would be his offering to Her, and within it he would succeed where his people had failed.
As he walked from that place, desolation cloaked him in a shroud of ruin. It was time to begin.