First of the Fire Sworn

The wind whistled in the dark stirring the ash that hung heavy in the air and Hreardan sighed. Here on the Ashen Island, even the Easternmost reaches where he now stood, no sun breached the thick pall of ash. But it could be worse. They had broken from a fierce ash storm just the other day, and now they could at least see more than a few metres all around. The air was less thick, and there was a vague and indistinct brightness that might just have been what passed for sunlight around Aqshy's Heartt. He turned around. Even here, easily a hundred leagues from the volcano, its light could still be seen, an orange-red glow that pierced the ashen air, shining like a beacon to all the island. Its heat too could be felt here emanating from the huge magma chambers beneath the island, the whole place throbbing with the power of Vulcatrix.

The war altar he stood on swayed with the steady pace of his magmadroth Ironscale and he patted her scaly hide, feeling the heat emanating from her magmic blood. She rumbled in gently in response and cocked her head at her master.

‘A long journey, eh girl’ He murmured to her, ‘But we’re close now, I feel it in the air’

It had been several days since the party of twenty had set out from The Ash-Fall Hold and now it would soon be time to meet those they had come so far to see. New allies, the fey peoples of the Haethen Court. They were surely just out of sight through the ash, the faint sound of singing, and beautiful music danced just on the edge of Hreardan’s consciousness.

Ziothaz Oathforged, Hreardan’s Battlesmith and close friend strode beside Ironscale as she carried Hreardan on, and he too could hear the music as they drew close. Then eyes wide in he watched as out of the dark ashen air, and the ominous light of the volcano came a posse of elegant dancing humans aelves and magical creatures, their skin and robes somehow pristine and ash-free. At their centre, easily a head above the others was a beautiful but powerful figure, a woman tall and commanding, a flowing cloak of leaves about her shoulders and a crown of stylised horns upon her head - Nomura. In contrast to this show of elegance stood the fyreslayers, the epitome of discipline and glowing in the light of shining runes, and ornate magmapikes of the Hearthguard honour guard. Two more different groups Ziothaz had never seen, yet here amid the swirling ash an alliance was to be forged.

Hreardan nudged Ironscale forwards with a muted word, until they stood just ahead of their warriors. Nomura too walked forwards, almost gliding across the ground, and wordlessly ran her hands across Ironscales hide, ignoring the throbbing heat.

‘I am honoured to finally meet you Runesmiter’ Her voice was singsong and she swayed gently as she spoke.
‘As am I great Queen of the Haethen Court’ Hreardan was conscious of the deep booming of his tone in comparison to the respectful elegance of the lady before him. ‘Yet more honoured, to welcome you to the Kingdom of Anvarr’

From his war altar he drew a goblet of shining gold, intricately carven, beautifully forged and glowing from the magma within. He held it high and drank deeply, his body glowing as he presented it to Nomura.

‘Welcome, to the Kingdom of Avizarr. M'lady Nomura, you stand now as one with us, we are Fire Sworn and the fire will never die!’