A Statue's Story: Part 0

When I was a child, we stopped during a journey to rest in a small seaside town in the southeast of Tora. If it had a name, I couldn't tell you what it was, only that the salty sea air mixed with the jasmine from up in the hills made an aroma that was as repulsive as it was refreshing.  The ingrained stench of seafood being butchered on the docks did little to help the situation. Not that it mattered to the rest of the company though, I’m guessing the massive amounts of liquor they imbibed fried their sense of smell on the spot.  For a warrior that prided himself on sharp thinking and wit, my father was never one to refuse a drink from a kindly local bartender, or grizzled pirate captain as it were. Deciding not to stick around the inebriated mercenaries, I set out to explore the town under the iridescent red of sunset.

When I arrived upon a ridge overlooking the sea, wood smoke pushed away the less than pleasant odors from below, and invited me into a stone shrine. Stepping through a cobblestone arch, I emerged in an open chamber; one wall nonexistent to let the sun’s light into the room as it bounced off the waves below. In the center, illuminated by a ray of brilliant crimson light, was an incredibly intricate and ornate statue modeling a knight in strange armor. The spikes and raised plates of the massive frame nearly glowed with the sunset, while deep maroon’s and blacks seeped through the ventilations in its oven-like breastplate. The entire figure looked like a blacksmith’s forge incarnate in humanoid form, with stylized smoke patterns carved away from the visor and chest. In its gauntlet, the statue held a glaive like weapon with a lantern affixed to the end, burning incense and cedar to provide the enticing smell I had followed initially.

“Ah, welcome child.” An old and decrepit, yet gentle voice called out to me. “Are you passing through? We seldom see unfamiliar faces paying their respects here.” The voice continued, revealing itself to be a hunched Torkoal woman warming herself in the last beams of sunlight. With a kindly smile, she motioned for me to join her by the ledge.

“Oh, you startled me! I didn't know there were people in this old looking place. I guess you look pretty old too, do you live here?” I asked, not knowing at the time how insufferable I must have been. I remember her simply shaking her head and smiling though, I suppose she was not overly offended. “Who are you paying respect to? Does it cost a lot?”

With a soft chuckle, she shook her head as I joined her. “Why child, paying respect to the man portrayed in the statue over there. And it costs nothing but thankfulness for the man who saved our people. No one now remembers his true name, but we call him the Firestarter, for he stoked the flame in our ancestors to fight back against our enemies of old.” I’m sure at this point my eyes were as big as could be, pleading her silently to continue the story. Acknowledging me, she continued “Well child, if you would have the patience to indulge an old woman, I’ll tell you all you want to know.”…