The embers were dancing. Such coordination and glowing grace to fill only one man’s eyes with beauty. The fallen cinders sat below and spectated; their dying breaths used to be reminded of what they once were. At the centre of the performance, stood a steel long sword, the heart and soul of the embers. Though engulfed by the scolding dancers that had been recently en-kindled It possessed a firm stance, with an aura of pride and protection about it; nothing would be hurt here. A safe haven for the endangered, comfort for the hunted and a beacon for the lost, however the amenity found in this decrepit land would soon be left behind. For he who wishes to link the first fire and break the undead curse must venture forth into the unknown, leaving divine embers behind.