At this time the fighter was hastily escaping the basilisk. Though distracted by the dark elf’s conjured lights, the basilisk had managed to catch a glimpse of the fighter, and he felt his legs and body stiffening. The fighter later told me over a drink he had been terrified. I had just listened and nodded. The stone gaze of the Basilisk. Yes. I knew. As for the rogue, he continued to flee from the metal demon. But now, having seen the Basilisk, he was trying to persuade it to fight for us. No avail. Again.

I quickly surmised we would need to focus our efforts on the demon and the snake. I would normally ignore these wearisome enemies, but in my mind’s eye I kept the image of fire. I released my concentration of faerie fyre on the horde and rushed to them, igniting a cone of air in front of me with quick hand movements. The cone burst over the horde and incinerated them all. The paladin nodded at me and I turned to see the wizard staring, flame shaped in between his hands. Ready. It was my turn to nod.

At this point, the party had regrouped. We had managed to bring the demon and the snake together, and we were curious as to what would happen. The dark elf dispelled his lights, and immediately the basilisk focused on the demon. The demon, however, turned toward us and advance. The basilisk took the opportunity to attack the demon, and we cheered. The monk and the rogue disappeared around a corner in an attempt to flank the creatures. The wizard cast another fire bolt. Where was his magic? I grew concerned. I invoked a sacred flame within the wounded demon and it crumbled to the ground. The basilisk remained, and the fighter and the paladin took turns chopping into its hide. The monk moved in for a final blow with its spear, looking up at me and smiling as it slid its blade into the basilisk’s belly. The implication was quite clear. I smiled in response.

The party relaxed. I sat at the table and took noted on the surroundings and events, making entries about my thoughts and impressions. These ruins did indeed have history to them, and a faint trace of magic. It was curious for me to see such differing creatures such as a demon and a basilisk, and in such close proximity. I questioned whether it was a demon or something else entirely. I examined the basilisk’s pit, but found nothing of note. My five companions began exploring again, and they found a secreted door. I hurried to join them, not wanting to miss anything potential revealing.

We were immediately attacked on entering the room. A sorcerer of some sort, adorned in the same clothing as the cultists and standing atop a large, inscribed dais, shot magic of some sort towards us. The fighter took the brunt of the damage, but did not cry out in pain or otherwise acknowledge its impact. The strong hands gripped his glaive tighter, and he furrowed his brow. The others charged the sorcerer and attempted to bring him to the ground. I was inclined to destroy this infidel, but the others wished to interrogate him. I allowed the interrogation and remained behind in the room to investigate the dais.

While the others failed in their interrogation attempts, I discovered a small, translucent sphere in the middle of the dais. Inside swirled something sharp. Something red. I recognized it. My eyes lit up. I hurriedly wrapped the sphere in my blanket and rejoined the group. On the ground sat the sorcerer, bruised and cackling, shrugging off the attempts of the dark elf and the fighter to yield information. I suspected this cultist worshipped what I now believed to be a fire elemental, confined in the spherical prison cushioned in my arms. I began tossing the sphere in the air, uncaring as to where it would land. The sorcerer reacted, and I knew.

The fighter knew as well. I think he could sense my motives. I think the whole party knew what I was about to do, and they tried to stop me. The fighter moved quickly, but he could not grasp the sphere. I caught it and, before they could intervene, smashed it at the sorcerer’s feet. I was not expecting the magnitude of the explosion. We were hurled back a distance, singed and lucky to be relatively unharmed. The sorcerer no longer remained. He was nothing more than a charred outline on the stone. In his place stood a towering beacon of flame, shimmering in the air. It must have stood ten feet or more, and extended just as wide. I could feel its heat on my skin and I grinned wildly. Madly. I needed to sear its image in my mind. Every curve, every movement. I needed to speak with it, if I could.

But I couldn’t. It ran from us. Quickly. Impossibly fast and far. The paladin shouted out to us. The caravan! My retainers! He chased after it, I’m sure with an aim to smite the evil in the name of the divine. Or to save himself from spending extra gold on new things. I chased as well, eager to learn all I could. I wanted to see it destroy the caravan. How would that happen? From where would it draw it’s energy? Questions needed to be answers.

The rest of the party remained behind and, thought I didn’t know it, discussed me. Me! As if I were some scourge needing to be managed. I returned only to be confronted with cold eyes and hostile demeanour. The paladin had remained outside, tending to the charred wreckage of our belongings. We all slowly investigated the remainder of the ruins. It was then the dark elf made his intentions clear. He and the fighter confronted me in front of a large treasure chest. I had wrought destruction on innocent people, they said. I had engaged the lives of the entire group, they said. They didn’t understand, but they wouldn’t. They were slaves to their emotions and their morality. The dark elf decided to assert his physical dominance, which I admit is much more than my own. And I was fresh from battle with many foes. I needed to rest, to regain my power. All I could do was avoid his attacks with flares of light. Eventually, they overcame me.

I do not know when I awoke, but it was to the sound of yelling, bleeding, and clangs of metal. I found my hands bound and the dark elf and the fighter under attack from three cultists, still struggling to their devotion with the sorcerer destroyed and the fire elemental fled. I made the immediate decision to assist and waylay any further suspicion and aggression towards me. I would not get far in my research if I were dead, or alone. I ignited flames in the cultists and watched the fighter slice his glaive through their fragile bodies. The monk ended things with a slice of his spear followed by the crunching of his bare fist against a sternum.

We dragged our bloodied selves back to the entrance of the ruins, having discovered the mysteries within. The wizard the paladin met us at the entrance, and they began discussing our next action with the fighter and monk. The great concern was to Dracomar, where the fire elemental seemed to be headed. I agreed – we should journey there. Of course I had no desire to protect the people or effect some other noble deed. I needed to see the destruction for myself. The Church of the 10 existed throughout this land; not just within that wretched city.