Those deemed unworthy shall be cleansed by fire and removed from this world. Their souls will be reduced to fiery whispers, embers from a forgotten ritual.
Eroded Inscription in Elvish
It does not occur often, but sometimes, in a dramatic turn of events, the common folk witness legendary events or artifacts from up close. This can be the result of mere luck, bad fortune, or simply by being at the right place, at the right time. Or the wrong of both, for all that matters…
The Molten Rocks
Harold Bruyne is an example of this. His home is located on the outskirts of Garrington, close to several smaller settlements and thorps. Harold is a writer. He makes a living writing messages, letters, and scrolls for the many illiterate folk that live around him. He also teaches how to read and write to those who wish to learn.
Two weeks ago, Harold had the strangest of dreams. He saw a flaming sword, floating before him. The blade swung left and right, cutting through massive rocks like a hot knife through butter. The molten rocks fell next to Harold, and he woke up sweating, feeling the heat.
The next day, the water from his well was warm to the touch, and it held a faint crimson hue, undrinkable. The dreams became more vivid with each subsequent night.