Andsaca Lunesci

Born in the humble walls of a Gamjuit settlement, Andsaca Lenesci was part of a caravan that moved throughout the border provinces. Her white hair was pulled back from over her brown skin. Her eyes like gems of sapphire. Purely, she was of the lines of Gamju. With every journey, her stature grew. Her broad shoulders carried the merchant wares and her practiced hands calloused from the polished dagger from her belt. She drew attention from adventurers of every king, learning several languages from them. But, when the desert could no longer hold her, she stretched beyond the Gamjuvan borders. Joining a merchant caravan, she joined a dwarvish trade to beyond the Tempest Crown peaks. There Emtatuk, a dwarven stronghold, awaited.
As Andsaca ventured in the overmound, the area of the city located on the surface of the mountain, she was perplexed by the vast differences in cultural standards. While Gamjuit relished in competition in daily activities, the dwarves, gnomes, and halflings enjoyed in casual merriment for hours on end. She noted that the behavior could be unsettling for those that delighted in deep contemplation rather than outward expression.
However, venturing into the mountain where the dwarves delve, Andsaca felt the looming pressure. The massive pillars that support the vast corridors are decorated with the names of all those whose hammers rip into the rock. Bridges arch over the deep abyss that lost souls fail to climb. The soft red dust clings to the moist boots that descend ever deeper. Still, Andsaca ventured farther. Her eyes forgot the sight of the sun and its sweet tender kiss. She could no longer hear the jovial tunes that rang wrongly in her ear. Her soul sank, being driven farther into the mountain. Then she heard it.
It was not harsh or soothing. It did not break the air or tighten the bones. The voice resembled a flickering fire, moving through the air. When Andsaca followed the taste of the warmth seeping through her skin. Her torchfire pulled, leading her deeper. Entering into a hall where hammers reaped at the stone, large, yet unbroken rocks remained cast aside. She paced forward, the heat guiding her way. Dwarvish eyes turned at once, taking notice of the human in their midst. As though connected, one went forward with chisel in hand. With a strike, the boulder split. A glimmering stone pulled the torchlight from the abandoned, wooden stock. Cast into darkness, only the emberheart throbbed. She reached forward her hand, but was caught by a dwarvish glove. She watched as the gemstone was pulled out.
"It's cool to the touch," a dwarvish voice rang.
"May I?" Andsaca's calm dwarvish echoed in the silent awe. She waited as the motion of the stone was placed in her quivering fingers. Excitement swelled as the voice continued the cavernous call. A language of flame, a desire to spread, to breath, to consume. Andsaca cradled the stone and found herself in the midst of the dwarven hearth.
"She found the stone," a dwarvish voice warned. "By lot, she claims the stone."
"From my bed!" another scoffed.
"Cast aside," an aged voice reminded. "But what is the stone?" All eyes turned to the bright rock resting on her lap.
"Guja speaks of great wealth, unending treasures, and life eternal within the breast of the mountain. Our ancestors started the plunge before our eyes could even see within the deep. We forged tools to hasten our rise and we sought our promised glory. It would seem that Guja has called another to the fold." The wisened man sat to rest, palm extended to Andsaca.
"I do not know what this is," Andsaca confessed, "But I feel that it is important. It might be richer than gold. It pulls fire into itself. It wishes to spread, to grow. But I do not know how a rock can grow."
A figured stepped into the doorway, exhaustion dripping from his lips. In his fingertips, another stone akin to the first. "We've reach the emberhold," he exclaimed.
Andsaca's eyes surged with excitement as she bounded again into the darkness.