I gaze deeply into the fire, seeing visions of what is to come. I feel a chill even with warmth the fire gives as I see the dragons soar and lay waste to the land.
We goblins are weaker than our orc counterparts in terms of physical strength but we more than make up for it by our attunement to the elemental energy of fire.
Fire for passion, fire for creation as well destruction, fire that awaken the senses and unleashes the fury within.
I come from a long line of shamans in our tribe. I remember the trek to Mount Doom to inhale the from the sulfuric vents and to partake of the fire moss growing there. It produces a hallucinogenic effect that jumpstarts the mana circuitry present in all creatures.
The fire burns in my veins and hot air escape my lungs, my vision hazy as the realms come together. I see the denizens of the flame looking at me, assessing me if I am to be worthy of their power.
I have seen some shaman novices erupt into a conflagration of fire as they try to pull the fiery elementals into their bodies. Each generation always has someone trying to tap into the elemental phoenix wanting to be Iqvot the Fireborn.
The lower skilled ones would choose fire imps and bats, the more talented ones would get a fire demon or a serpent of the flame as a source of their power.
I remember eyeing this serpent of the flame, locked in steely gaze as we concentrate and focus our resolve. The higher the tier of the elemental, the stronger the wlll needed to be granted power.
This is where our foolish orc counterparts fail because they always assume it is about physical prowess. Their will to subdue and their nature to be alpha makes them unwilling supplicants to a higher power. This is why we goblins know when to push and when to pull.
I sit down and gaze at the serpent of the flames eyes, hours past as it probed my mind and my heart. It learned all my hopes and my fears. It licked the side of my face, leaving a scar of acceptance. It will grant me a portion of its power and I would be a part of it.
I feel its desire to turn things ashen and see the world burn. It fills me with a violent tendency that threatens to consume me if I don't hold it in check.
The fire coursing through my blood is asking to be released. I channel and a spark of flame is held aloft in my hand. I will it to be bigger, hotter and I can feel the serpent of the flames encourage me, I hold it high above my head and throw it against one of the failed shaman novices who clearly lost their mind. A ritual cleansing of sorts as the weak is culled from ranks.
Glorious! I feel so alive and the serpent of the flame that has me bonded approves. Such power is intoxicating, such a rush!!
I shed the animal skins that clothed me as a novice like a snake shedding its skin and I put on a new one befitting my status as an adept. I shed my name as well and take on Vrikx Flametongue in remembrance of the serpent of the flame that is a part of me.
Tonight I celebrate, tomorrow I go to war!!
Flavor Text
Fire of creation, fire of destruction, two sides of one element that radiates from the flame plane. It is mine to control and to use as I see fit.
I call forth a fireball as I just want to see the world burn!
Burn baby burn!
This is my entry to the Steem Monster writing contest for common monsters Steem Monsters Common Card Fantasy Story Contest! // Week 6