While Zeroth and his companions retired to their room for the night, the wooden floors creaked gently beneath their weight, and the flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows on the walls. The scent of a hearty meal wafted from the dining room, hinting at the warmth and camaraderie shared by those below. Yet, as Zeroth settled into his bed, a peculiar sensation began to envelop him. It wasn't the usual coolness of the night or the comforting warmth of a well-fed stomach. No, it was as if a subtle ember glowed within him, a warmth that defied the natural order of things. The night's cool breeze seemed to be replaced by an imaginary sun, casting an illusion of a warm, sunny day within his very being. However, in the midst of the disarray of sensations, Zeroth attributed the heat to the generous meal he had consumed. His gaze lingered on the Flaming Berserker, the axe that had become a necessary force, leaning against his bedside. Once Zeroth drifted into sleep and his dreams began to overtake him, all he could see was a light gray mist and he had the sensation that he was plummeting. Looking around for anything that he could grab onto to assist in halting his fall, he could see nothing but at the same time, all he could think was, "Where am I? Last I thought, I was in bed about to fall asleep and now I'm falling through mist." In the next second, Zeroth landed, face-down, onto what seemed to be a charcoal-colored stone floor. Once Zeroth pushed himself off the ground and began to look around, it seemed as if he landed in an old, decayed battle coliseum.

"Where am I? What place is this?" Zeroth yelled, his heart rate beginning to rise.

Along the inner ring of the coliseum were large torches, taller than Zeroth by more than twice his height, that lit with an eerily familiar flame simultaneously as Zeroth shouted. The coliseum was unnaturally bright with the flames which sent shivers down Zeroth's spine.

While the torch's flames flickered ominously, a loud, gravelly voice rang out through the clearing Zeroth was in. "Ahh... Dwarf who recklessly stole... Dwarf who has slaughtered... Within the axe lies power and flames but also... A curse." As the voice trailed away, the flames upon the torches flared and leaped up and off of the torches into the air, convening into a mass of flame. The flames began to flash and shape themselves into that of what Zeroth believed to be a giant muscular warrior, clad in bulky armor. After taking some semblance of that armored humanoid shape, it began to float down to stand over Zeroth, as if he were nothing but an insect in its presence.

The voice that boomed was loud and much more cohesive now and seemed to emanate from that fiery figure. "Puny dwarf, you have taken what was once mine, the Flaming Berserker battle axe. Me and that axe have slain hundreds, if not thousands of insects who believed they were my superior. Now they are nothing! Dead fools, although very crafty cursing me to this hellish torment. Then, more years than I dare count later, you come along and snatch me up, not a care in the world." The figure punctuated "world" by crossing its giant arms, almost reminding Zeroth of an upset parent instead of some scary entity.

"Aye, I did find that axe. Can you blame me though? It was just sitting there, gathering dust, asking to be taken. How was I supposed to know it was some giant flaming monster's cursed home?"

The figure flared at Zeroth's impotent questions. "Enough! I care not for what you say for the curse has taken hold. Those wizards may have put my raging essence inside the axe and sealed it away, but they never accounted for my essence manifesting into another, replacing them completely."

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Zeroth took a step back at that and gasped, "Replace them completely? How would that even be possible?"

Grimbli's voice, a distant yet familiar buzz, echoed through the dream. "Careful, Zeroth. That entity is not to be underestimated. Its words carry more weight than you might think."

The being flared even more as if it didn't notice Grimbli's presence, casting a blinding light around itself while it laughed aloud, "Oh dear dwarf, all will become clear in due time. The process has already begun, although much slower than I would like but that will not be an issue. I have time and it seems you will eventually run out." The figure's fiery form leaned in, its voice a guttural whisper, "Submit, dwarf. Your essence will fuel my rebirth, and you will be a mere echo in the halls of my newfound power." With a last laugh and flash of light, everything went back to the gray mist that intruded upon Zeroth initially, and within a few heartbeats, he awoke in his bed, drenched in sweat. Grimbli's voice lingered in his mind, a gentle hum of concern. "Be cautious, Zeroth. That entity seeks dominance, and its promises are veiled in treachery. The battle for your essence has only just begun."

When Zeroth looked around the room, he found everyone was still asleep and that it was just breaking dawn outside. As he scanned the room, Zeroth jumped slightly as he noticed his battle axe was now lying beside him in his bed, not where it was the night before. As he cast a wary eye towards the battle axe lying beside him he saw its metal surface gleaming in the soft dawn light filtering through the window.

"What in the hells was that?" Zeroth muttered to himself, wiping the sweat from his forehead. The dream's echoes reverberated in his mind, and the fiery figure's ominous warnings replayed like a haunting melody. His gaze lingered on the Flaming Berserker, a weapon he had come to rely on, a companion in battles that seemed unmatched. Yet, the revelation of its curse left him grappling with a newfound unease. "I took a cursed weapon... fantastic," Zeroth grumbled, running his fingers through his beard. A sense of regret gnawed at him, but, more significantly, he felt the tremors of fear. The thought of something slowly taking over his very essence was a chilling prospect. He hesitated, considering whether to share this revelation with his companions. The warmth he felt in the dream, the comforting glow of the cursed entity, seemed far removed from the terror that now gripped him. His friends were facing enough challenges, and he didn't want to burden them further. For now, Zeroth decided to keep the truth to himself. He sheathed the Flaming Berserker and strapped it to his back. As he rose from the bed, he cast one last glance at his sleeping companions, Varic, Ardric, and Tingle. They were oblivious to the internal struggle their friend was facing.

"Let them sleep," Zeroth muttered. "We've got a journey ahead, and I'll figure this out on my own terms." With a deep breath, he stepped out into the cool morning, leaving the warmth of the inn room behind. The sun was rising, casting a golden hue through every window, and a new day began, heralding both adventure and the looming shadows of a curse yet to unfold.