Name: ???
Species: Minor Spirit (Flame)
Race: Will-O’Wisp
Level: 1
Experience: 0 / 10
Health: 8 / 10
Stamina: 3 / 5
Strength: 1
Agility: 3
Endurance: 2
Magic: 4
Perception: 5
Skills:
- Pyrokinesis (Minor)
Traits:
- Ephemeral Spark
- Spirit Form - Fire
Afflictions:
- None
I curse inwardly, noting that my Health has decreased once again. My only means of attack is Pyrokinesis, which doesn’t seem particularly useful against a monster playing with molten stone. The humanoid figure crouches slowly, the muscles of its digitigrade legs clearly visible on its emaciated frame. It gradually exhales, and plunges its claws back into the pool of lava.
Its gaze turns away almost casually, as it returns to its ritual. I remain perfectly stationary as my mind processes the sudden revelation.
[It… doesn’t care that I’m here...]
A wave of relief washes over me as my flames release a faint puff of white smoke. I release an audible sigh, the noise unintentional as I previously failed to realize that making sounds was a thing that I could do. This, unfortunately, has the unintended side-effect of causing the demon’s eyes to snap towards me once again, kicking against the stone as it immediately propels itself forward, landing at the base of the rock wall, and quickly climbing upward .
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I attempt to call out to the creature, which much to my dismay, results in singular clipped syllables. Speech seems to be significantly more difficult without a mouth. The figure’s head peers over the edge of the cliff, as its eyes widen, seemingly in shock. It pulls itself over the ledge as its voice rings out, rough and sibilant, “[Wisp]… speaks?!”
[Requirements Met: Obtained Language - Inferni]
Redoubling my efforts, I attempt to form a cohesive sentence as the demon inches closer. After several more attempts, I somehow manage to formulate a simple sentence, “Hi-i… th-the-ere…” My vocalizations are lurching and uneven, and the words themselves don’t sound like any language I’ve heard before, but they seem to convey some intent. The short, impish creature pauses several feet away as its head cocks to the side.
“[Wisp] no talk. Stupid like tree. Float ‘round getting gobbled up like snack.” A long tongue extends upwards from its mouth, licking its eye as if to emphasize the point. Despite its rudimentary speech, intelligence shines within its smoldering gaze, assessing what could apparently be its next meal.
I choose my words with care, cautiously forming every syllable. As I speak, I find it easier to form words as I inhale. My body seems averse to releasing breath, but the fire can shape words as the air rushes to fuel them. The resulting sound is breathy, but clear “I… am no or-dinary [Wisp]. I move wi-th purpo-se. My… value i-s far more than foo-ood.” I pause to allow the words to sink in. “Fight with me… and we shall riise to greater heights.”
“Why should trust [Wisp]?” the fiendish figure hissed. I pause, realizing the creature is slightly more clever than I had hoped, “A [Wisp] can do nothiing to one as powe-rful as you,” I respond, stroking their ego.
In the distance, I hear an echoing sound, somewhat resembling the call of an owl as the monster considers my words. “[Wisp] not hard to eat. We hunt, and see if it better than snack…” The being utters the words with a hissing growl as it closes the distance between us with deceptive agility. It sniffs the air, slitted nostrils flaring aggressively as it resumes speaking, “Name. Rask… [Pyric Imp].”As it speaks, the label seems to solidify in my mind. I know what they are as surely as I know my own name. Or at least it feels that way, before I suddenly realize the error in my statement.
Name: ???
I don’t remember my own name.
The imp looks at me, confusion evident on its face at my apparent reaction. I quickly right myself, and attempt to alleviate the demon’s concern. “It’s nothing,” I manage. Rask smiles, seemingly satisfied with this response. He turns, beckoning me towards the glowing pool of magma. As he reaches the edge of the molten basin, he speaks once again, “[Imp] Rask and [Wisp] Nothing. We drink. We hunt.We see…” As I watch, the imp lowers his hands into the pyroclastic depression. Lava pools in his palms as veins once again begin to glow beneath his skin. From beside him, I can sense heat and flame being channeled from the liquid stone.
Mesmerized by the spectacle before me, I watch transfixed as I feel the fire disperse into heat and light before finally breaking down into raw energy. I recognize it instinctively as mana, Fire Aspect Mana. Shifting my attention to the roiling pool, I'm gradually able to discern its individual components: fire, earth, and an undercurrent of something particularly unstable. I reach out to the amalgamation of elements, as the fire slowly yields to my command. It's heavy, weighted by unyielding stone, yet it responds almost like a living being groggily roused from its slumber.
Imitating my new, murderous companion I draw the fire towards myself. The flow is gradual at first as the mana begrudgingly flows according to my will. The earthen aspect falls away, unwilling to be roused, as I find myself drifting over the crater of magma. Tendrils of fire spiral upwards from the crescent as the world around me slowly falls away. The fire closes in around me, a radiant heat as my body begins to pulse in concert with the fire. The first of the embers seep into my form, and agony blossoms from the depths of my soul.