The journey to the guild took Zeroth and his group a little more than a day of travel and Zeroth noted the brisk chill slowly setting into the new morning informing him that fall was soon upon them. Tingle, being very excited to see the mage guild looming upon the horizon with the sun beginning to peak behind it, began to get restless in the carriage. Zeroth could hear him shuffling around and the upset grunts of Varic and Ardric for being disturbed so early. As Zeroth reigned the horse and carriage into the stable, he noticed Tingle could barely keep inside the carriage and hopped out as soon as Zeroth pulled into the stable and to a stop. "Tingle will meet back up with you all very soon! Tingle must inspect his workshop and see if I have any knowledge of your predicament!" Tingle shouted as he scrambled into the guild. Zeroth sighed and shook his head, "That one has the energy to power the sun's light." Ardric, huffing as he jumped off the side of the carriage, remarked, "Just one sun? Tingle could power twenty minimum." Zeroth chuckled at that and watched Varic slowly slide off the back of the carriage, groaning with sleepiness. "Gods I sleep like shit while riding," Varic said as his feet landed on the ground. Zeroth rolled his eyes at Varic's complaints and said, "Yeah, yeah, at least we've made it safe and sound. Now we need to go talk to Thalamar about my little... issue. I will say, I'm worried about actually using that axe so soon but it has to happen."
Upon entering the grand foyer, the group navigated through the bustling corridors filled with mages and apprentices, each absorbed in their world of magical studies and arcane experiments. The energy of the place, vibrant with the pulse of concentrated magic, was both overwhelming and exhilarating. Reaching Thalamar's study, Zeroth didn't hesitate. He knocked firmly on the heavy oak door, adorned with runes that shimmered faintly, a testament to the room's occupant's power and standing within the guild. "Enter," came Thalamar's voice from within, a calm command that carried the weight of wisdom and experience. Zeroth pushed the door open, his friends in tow, to find Archmage Thalamar seated behind a vast desk cluttered with scrolls, tomes, and various arcane artifacts. The Archmage looked up, his keen eyes reflecting a mix of curiosity and concern as he regarded his unexpected guests. "Zeroth, I presume this visit is about your... unique situation?" Thalamar began, gesturing for them to take a seat. His gaze lingered on the axe slung across Zeroth's back, an object of power that seemed to hum with an inner fire even in the tranquility of the study. "Yes, Archmage," Zeroth replied, the weight of their recent experiences pressing down on his words. "We've encountered much since our last meeting. For one, there appears to be an entity sealed within this axe and he is planning on replacing my essence with his, essentially trapping me within the axe and letting him roam free once again. We also met up with Elara in Alderbrook and she pointed us to where exactly the sanctum was." Zeroth sighed deeply remembering their time in the Wandering Abyss Sanctum. "Getting into the sanctum wasn't difficult with Tingle around to help and we slaughtered many of the sorcerers that dwelled there. The Three Heads of the Sanctum were slaughtered as well."Thalamar's expression darkened at the mention of the sanctum, his brows knitting together in thought. "The Whispering Abyss Sanctum... I feared as much. Your experiences there and the presence of such malevolence confirm a growing threat we must address. But first, your axe and the entity within."
Zeroth carefully removed the Flaming Berserker from his back, placing it on the table before Thalamar. The Archmage extended his hand, a subtle incantation on his lips, as he examined the weapon with a mixture of arcane sight and tactile scrutiny. "The entity you mentioned," Thalamar said, his focus unwavering, "it speaks of a transformation. The entity seeks to replace your essence with its own, an insidious form of possession that is rare and deeply complex." Ardric leaned forward, his concern palpable. "Is there a way to sever the connection without harming Zeroth?" Thalamar sighed, a deep, resonant sound that filled the room with a momentary gravity. "It will require a delicate balance of magic and will. We must weaken the entity's hold while bolstering Zeroth's spiritual defenses. And we must act quickly but that does not guarantee success, this is very old powerful magic." Varic, who had been silent, spoke up, "And the mutated kobolds, the sorcerers, and the sanctum? How does it all connect?" "The sorcerers you encountered, the rituals they performed, they're drawing upon dark magic that could destabilize the region. The sanctum may have been a focal point for their activities, a nexus of power that they were exploiting for their nefarious purposes," Thalamar explained. Zeroth nodded, his resolve hardening. "Then we have multiple fronts to address. We must find a way to break the entity's hold over me and stop the sorcerers from further corrupting the land." Thalamar stood, his demeanor one of grim determination. "I will gather the necessary texts and consult with my colleagues. We'll need every advantage at our disposal but first, let us go visit Tingle in his workshop. I would like to see you use that axe again."
In the heart of the Mages Guild, Thalamar led Zeroth and his companions through a labyrinth of hallways lined with ancient tomes and mystical artifacts, each step echoing on the stone floor. The anticipation was palpable among them, a mix of curiosity and unease about the impending test. Their destination was Tingle's workshop, a place of chaotic invention where magic and machinery intertwined in a symphony of creativity. As they entered the workshop, the air buzzed with arcane energy, the scent of burning ozone and metal mingling in the air. Tingle, the gnome artificer, was hunched over a cluttered workbench, tools, and components scattered around him. He looked up, his eyes wide with excitement and a hint of surprise at the sight of his visitors.
"Thalamar! And friends! To what do I owe the pleasure?" Tingle chirped, his high-pitched voice echoing slightly in the crowded space. "We need your expertise, Tingle," Thalamar explained, gesturing towards Zeroth. "Zeroth has experienced... changes with his battle axe. We're here to understand them better and you have plenty of space for that." Tingle's gaze shifted to the Flaming Berserker Battle Axe slung across Zeroth's back, a gleam of interest sparking in his eyes. "Tingle was told before by Zeroth that he was having issues with it... Alright, let's see what it can do."
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Zeroth carefully removed the axe, the weight of it familiar and yet foreign in his hands. He laid it on a clear space on Tingle's workbench, the gnome artificer leaning in to examine it with a jeweler's loupe. "Proceed with caution, Zeroth," Thalamar warned, his voice steady but laced with concern. "We don't fully understand the extent of these changes." Zeroth nodded, steeling himself for what was to come. He reached out, his hand shaking as it was hovering over the axe's handle. Taking a deep breath, he grasped it firmly. Instantly, the axe's blade burst into its characteristic flames, a fierce display of power that illuminated the workshop. But then, to Zeroth's shock, something unexpected happened. The flames, instead of remaining confined to the blade, began to crawl down the handle like they were sentient, a vibrant cascade of fire that defied all logic. Zeroth's eyes widened as he felt the flames wrap around his arms, the fire engulfing them up to his shoulders. Yet, there was no pain, no heat—only a surge of strength and an undeniable connection to the entity within the axe. Tingle gasped, his usual excitement shattered by the spectacle. "Tingle has never seen something like this! That's... that's not normal fire!" Ardric stepped forward, ready to intervene, but Thalamar held him back with a raised hand. "Wait. Watch."
The flames danced along Zeroth's arms, a brilliant display of red and orange that cast eerie shadows across the workshop. And then, as suddenly as they had appeared, they receded, drawn back into the axe like a breath being taken. As the flames receded into the axe like a serpent slithering into its lair, Zeroth's grip loosened. The vibrant display of power had taken a toll he hadn't anticipated. The room spun, a dizzying vortex of colors and sounds, and with a clatter that echoed ominously through the workshop, the axe fell from his hands. Zeroth's knees buckled, and darkness claimed him as he collapsed to the floor, the world fading away into the void of unconsciousness. In the depths of this sudden darkness, Zeroth found himself in a place between dreams and reality, an endless expanse of swirling mists and fiery skies. The laughter of the entity, now clear and mocking, echoed around him, a sound both terrifying and mesmerizing. "You think yourself strong, dwarf?" the voice boomed, a mix of amusement and scorn. "You have barely brushed the surface of my power, and already you falter." Zeroth, struggling to find his footing in this dreamscape, managed to call out, "Who are you? What do you want from me?"
The laughter subsided into a low, rumbling chuckle. "You seek names? Very well. I am Vulcanix Sulphyrion, Demigod of Lava and Metalworking. My essence is the forge from which worlds are wrought, the flame that tempers, and the molten core that reshapes the very earth." The revelation hit Zeroth like a wave of heat from a blast furnace. Vulcanix Sulphyrion—the name resonated with a power that seemed to vibrate through the air. The entity's form coalesced before him, a towering figure made of lava and flame, its skull glowing like molten gold, and a presence that was both awe-inspiring and deeply frightening. "Why me?" Zeroth found the courage to ask, his voice steady despite the fear that gripped him. "Why choose to bind your essence to mine?" Vulcanix's form shifted the flames that composed his body flickering with impatience. "Destiny, chance, necessity—the reasons are as numerous as the stars. But know this, Zeroth Velkyrr: together, we are a force of nature, unstoppable and bound for greatness. But first, you must embrace the fire, let it consume you, let it transform you. Only then can our true potential be unleashed."
As the entity spoke, Zeroth felt the heat return, not just around him but within him, a burning that wasn't painful but empowering. He understood then that this was no mere curse but a challenge, a calling to rise above his limits. With a final, deafening roar of laughter, the vision began to fade, Vulcanix Sulphyrion's figure dissolving into the mists from which he had emerged. Zeroth felt himself being pulled back to consciousness, the workshop and his friends coming back into focus. As he awakened, Zeroth found himself on the floor, Thalamar and the others looking down at him with concern. The axe lay nearby, innocuous yet charged with the promise of untold power and peril. "I... I saw him," Zeroth gasped, the name of the entity heavy on his tongue. "Vulcanix Sulphyrion."
Thalamar sighed, a mixture of awe and gravity in his expression. "It's as I feared. The entity within the axe isn't just merging with your essence; it's granting you its power, making you a conduit for its flames." While Zeroth picked himself off the floor, Ardric said, "We know that, Thalamar. What we don't know is why the entity wants out so bad, why it chose Zeroth, and why it was sealed inside an axe of all things in the first place." Zeroth nodded in agreement. "All it has told me so far, besides its name, is that wizards hundreds of years ago sealed him within that axe to prevent him from slaughtering more people." Varic, who had watched the entire event with a critical eye, finally spoke. "It seems the axe, or the entity within it, is testing its boundaries, seeing how far it can integrate with Zeroth." Tingle was already scribbling notes, his mind racing with possibilities. "This could be unprecedented! A direct manipulation of magical energy through a physical conduit! But oh, the dangers..." Thalamar turned to Zeroth, his voice solemn. "We must proceed with caution. This development confirms that the entity's influence is growing. We need to understand more, not just for your sake, Zeroth, but for the safety of all. I will consult some of my ancient texts for it's name and hope I can find the correct history of it." As they left the workshop, the weight of their discovery hung heavy in the air. Zeroth felt the warmth of the axe on his back, a silent observer of the path they were walking. The journey ahead was fraught with unknowns, but one thing was clear: the battle for Zeroth's soul was far from over, and the flames that now answered his call were both a gift and a curse.