Pyromancer Alessar of the Morning Star

I stand upon the edge of a tower, acrid smoke in my eyes and lungs. Ashes rise and dance like wicked, playful snowflakes. A single tear cascades down my right cheek. Is it from the smoke or the glorious sight of Red Wizard Capital engulfed in flames lit from my own torch? I wipe the tear and dark ash streaks my face like sinister war paint. Generations of corrupt power and unfathomable wealth all ablaze below. The capital’s denizens seem to burn and writhe like panicked insects. I sigh. Alas, the joyous scene is but a wish. One that I vow to make a reality. They will share my pain. Their transgressions will be cleansed by fire’s scorning embrace.

Entered by: 0x8729…AD7A and preserved on chain (see transaction)