"Beware the one covered in ash.
Beware the one painted in scars and burns."
In a falling kingdom, one lone man stands, after scorching a nearby body to ash. Surrounding him is a city, built from stone and wood. Banners hanging from poles depict an owl, with a rainbow eye and a simple golden round. In front of him is a measly group of guards, around 10, carrying spears and swords. They had heard the legend, probably forced to memorize it in school. The man smirked at the terrified guards.
"You wouldn't want to end up like your friend here, right?" He motioned to the body next to him. "Or them?" He pointed behind himself, to a harbor choked with burning boats slowly sinking into an ocean with bodies. They shook their heads, too terrified to speak. "Ok." He spoke slowly, as if to children. "Then let me pass." He spoke simply, softly, but when he said this, his scorched fingertips flared with white flames. They all stood aside, except for two guards, dressed in red and orange, not unlike the flames burning on the ships. They carried heavy axes in their hands, poised to strike. "Well then." They were a perfect pair, moving with near synchronization. Unfortunately, as The Ashbringer dodged their blades, he tripped one of the duo, causing him to fall. He got up quickly, but not fast enough. He shot a single white flame into one of the men's faces. The metal chainmail he wore melted together, mixing into the skin of its wearer. The man tried to scream, but his face was melted shut. The Ashbringer picked up his blade and swiftly ended his life. The Ashbringer turned to the other, who was horrified. He said nothing, and the man moved away. The Ashbringer smiled to himself, all teeth. He continued up the way, underneath an arch that led to The Owl King.
"Beware he who burns.
Beware he who destroys knowledge."
