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Pyromancer Artis of the Rock (#2402)

Owner: 0xE912…2CB3

Pyromancer Artis of the Rock

A Brief History

Some Time, Somewhere…


“Steer clear of the river when the current is rushing, Artis…”

Let me give you a little background on my situation.

I’m always tired. Not in like a silly quirky way, this is serious business. I can barely sleep more than a few winks at a time. My tired nature stemmed from a total mishap when I was a child that resulted in a curse. Some would say I’m being dramatic calling it a curse since it’s what quite literally saved my life, but being in an inescapable slumberous state is sincerely not fun.

My branch of those belonging to Of The Rock was a very peaceful bunch, as opposed to other Rocks you may have heard of. This isn’t about them, however. Before I left, we were a very close-knit community and spent most of our days in the Honor Mountains. My grandmother used to say that my family came from somewhere between Red Wizard Capital and the foothills of Skylord Rookery. Long ago a small bunch left the only home they had ever known in pursuit of more peaceful land, and that’s how we ended up on Honor Mountain.

When I was barely seven years into my training, I liked to practice using my fire powers on small things like crunchy leaves and on the calm river water. The water was my favorite in particular, as my water rune gave me some control over how the water reacted. When I would send a spark flying into the bright and sparkling river, I was able to create a sudden burst of steam. The gentle tsssss sound of the reaction was my favorite part. The more I practiced, the longer and stronger I found myself being able to make the steam. Pretty soon, I was conjuring fire, water, and steam shows - much to the delight of my family.

While I was practicing one day, the river current was faster than normal. I had been told plenty of times to stay away from the river when it was moving at such speed…but I neglected to listen. I was being a bit ambitious with my fire, and a rouge flame got twisted around my ankle. Before I knew what was happening, I was thrown off of my feet into the rushing river.

I was knocked unconscious, and when I finally awoke I was incredibly far from home. Nothing about my surroundings was familiar. The colors, the sounds, even the smells, nothing was the same. I was surrounded by towering trees and dappled sunlight on a bright green, grassy ground. I had never left the comfort of our home in the mountains before, so this was all strange and unfamiliar to me. What I did know, was I was soaking wet and curled up in the back of a wagon of sorts. I could hear the clip-clops of a pony pulling me along, and as I looked up to see who was driving I caught of glimpse of a hooded witch. The sight of her frightened me so much that I promptly passed back out. Keep in mind I was only in my seventh year at this point, so I was quite the sensitive young wizard.

The next time that I was awake, I found myself in front of a warm crackling fire, wrapped tightly in the softest scarves I had ever felt. Cautiously, I took in the rest of my surroundings. Slowly, I stood up and peeked around the dark room that was only partially illuminated by the hearth. There was nothing of much significance, but it was extremely dark so I thought maybe there was more than met the eye. I carefully moved the heavy curtain away from the window to let some light in, only to find that it was the dead of night. The thick trees barely let any moonlight through to the forest floor. I found a stray piece of wood next to the fireplace and quickly lit a torch. I draped the scarves over my shoulders and moved further into the dark room. Thankfully, I found a table with a chunk of fresh bread with a note. I stuffed the bread into my mouth and read over the note.


“This was for your own good. I promise it was the only way to save your life. Enjoy the bread, get some rest, and I will explain in the morning. - C”


In hindsight, I probably should have stuck around to find out what in the Runiverse had happened to me, but instead, I left. I was young, alone, and scared. A scary witch was the last person that I wanted to talk with. I gathered what was left of the bread and readjusted the scarves. With my new torch in hand, I unlocked the creaky window and went on my way.

Turns out, that witch thought the only way to save my life was to bestow a curse of life-long exhaustion. I never got an explanation, and that is something I will always regret not knowing.

Throughout the next few years, I wandered wherever the various winding rivers led me. I never made it back home to the Honor Mountains, however. That was something that always struck me as strange. No matter what river I traveled along, none was ever the one that took me away from my home.

As I grew older and wiser, my pyromancy powers grew as well, but due to my tired nature, the wizard I grew up to be turned out the be fairly clumsy and not-so-graceful. One day, while I was trying to put out a spell that potentially could have burned down the entirety of Hedge Wizard Wood, an ember escaped my grasp. This ember was unlike any I had seen before - this one didn’t immediately disappear. Instead, it wisped and floated through the air. I stared in wonderment at this glowing tangible bit of magic that I had created. As it ever so slowly made its way to the ground, I grew strangely sad to see something I made begin to disappear. The ember landed softly on a toadstool next to me on the forest floor. To my surprise, the ember began to glow brighter and brighter and brighter…it was then that I realized that maybe needed to back away. But before I could even finish that thought BOOM the ember and toadstool combusted into a puff of smoke. I slowly bent down to inspect what had happened. The smoke swirled and changed from a red to a bright purple, and out hopped the cutest little frog I had ever seen. I squealed with utter happiness and delight. Born from ember and toadstool, the little creature was the most perfect familiar I could have ever asked for. The little red frog hopped into my hands and he immediately climbed onto my hat where he would stay forever. Naming this little creature was quite the task, I had never had to name anything before. After much consideration, I decided on the name of Monsieur Croque.


I would never admit it, but I named him after my favorite human food and the funny sounds that my new familiar made when he was happy


Unfortunately, this was not the end of my curse - although the new company was quite nice. Croque and I made our way all over the map, but our favorite place that we always came back to was right off the coast of The Salt in a small village near Red Wizard Capital and Skylord Rookery. I think deep down this was because I knew it was where my ancestors came from, and it felt like I was truly home.

After some years of traveling, we decided to settle into our favorite area since it had everything we were looking for. One of the best parts was the small bakery in the village. Every morning everyone was awoken by the friendly baker and the smells of the freshly made bread. It was custom that we would all gather in the early morning to “break bread” together. It has always been the perfect way to start all of our days. This was something that has always brought me so much joy. I may have drifted off a few times during these morning gatherings, but to see so many people together in one place, to simply enjoy each other’s company, was one of the most magical experiences.

In the small village, time seemed to move slowly. It always felt like I had plenty of time and space to practice my pyromancy. Much like most skills, I improved greatly with patience and practice. My sleepiness, on the other hand, persisted. I had grown weary, even more than usual. I made the decision that it was finally time to seek out the witch that had bestowed this “blessing” unto me.

I spoke with many villagers, many of whom possessed some kind of magic, however, none had heard of this witch before and were unsure of how to help. It made sense, this witch was far from where I had ended up. I knew this meant I had to leave my comfy new home. Somewhat reluctantly, I gathered my old torch, my favorite red hat, and my perfectly worn scarves. Before I left for an unknown amount of time, I decided to sit in the shade of a tree to take in my surroundings one final time. I let the dappled sunlight hit my skin, the breeze flow through my hair, and the sounds of the rushing river hit my ears. Croque knew that I would soon fall asleep for a few precious moments. He took his position on my hat, to keep guard over me. I had only been asleep for a mere moment before suddenly I felt something fall on my head. Begrudgingly, I opened my eyes and found myself holding whatever had hit me on the head, in my now on-fire hands. I sighed exasperatedly, shook my hands to put out the flames, and opened my clenched fists to see what I was holding. To my surprise, it was…a bean - a measly bean, that was now extra toasty. Curious, I took a sniff and to my shock, it smelled incredible, however, when I took a bite it was awfully bitter. The kind of bean that this was, was an utter mystery to me, I had never seen this species of plant in all of my travels. This was especially strange to me since I had traveled through this particular area many times. I craned her neck upward to get a better look at the tree that I was sitting under.

This tree was massive, and this was the only of its kind from what I could see. I sent Croque climbing to do some investigations. I watched through the dappled sunlight as he hopped around from branch to branch inspecting every inch of this discovery. After a few moments, he leaped back down, and to my delight, he brought a small bundle of beans back down. I took a closer look and the beans looked nothing like the bitter one I had just consumed. Confused, I took the beans in my hands, held them tightly, and set my hands ablaze. After a few fiery moments, the beans were a nice toasty brown and smelled amazing once again. I tried eating a few more, in hopes that these would taste better, but alas, I was very wrong. The bitterness crept over my tongue and I just about spat them all out. However, I had a nagging feeling that this was something important and felt that something drew me to this tree. I decided to abandon my mission to find the witch, and with Croque’s help, we gathered as many of these mysterious beans as we could carry back to our home.

Once we arrived back at our cottage, Croque and I dumped our haul onto the counter and considered the possibilities. The rest of our day was spent experimenting with what these beans could possibly be used for. I felt like I was home again, experimenting and having fun with my powers. I felt deep in my soul that I was on the brink of something great. As I went through many trials and errors, I continued to eat the beans after roasting them. The more I ate, the more I felt alive, happy, and AWAKE. This stopped me in my tracks…I felt awake. There was newfound energy coming from deep within me. I felt as though I was buzzing and was moving faster than ever before. It was at this moment that I realized I had found a cure to my curse. My happiness was bursting at every seam and I couldn’t contain it - I quite literally ran laps outside around our cottage. I kept experimenting with ways to use my newfound cure, and my favorite way by far was a liquid creation that I called coffee.


I originally meant to name it “cofe” but the beans made me a bit jittery, so I doubled a couple of letters by accident and never corrected it in my growing recipe book

I started to grow groves of the coffee bean trees all around the cottage. Once they were nice and ripe, Croque would pick the beans using his extra sticky toes. I used all of the fire and water skills that I learned in my youth to create this wonderful blend. The best part about my newfound cure was that it didn’t just work for me, but everyone in the small village felt revitalized after consuming my concoction. Each morning as the villagers gathered at the bakery, I would bring them a giant batch of my coffee. Oftentimes, many of the villagers would visit my cottage to get another cup throughout the day. As time went on, word of this miracle spread, and wizards came from far and wide to try my new brew. I taught each traveler how to make it so they could recreate it as they traveled. When they were ready to continue on with their journeys, I sent them on their way with a bag of their own coffee beans. I quickly ran out of space in my small cottage. I needed more space to better serve everyone in town as well as the travelers. I decided it was time to plant firm roots in my new home. With that decision, I opened up a shop that would serve my delicious drinks. I named it: The Dragon’s Roast.

Some Time, Much Later, at The Dragon’s Roast


“Is this…a journal? Where did this come from…”


This morning was like any other. I woke up, opened The Dragon’s Roast, and started making coffees for some of my favorite regulars. Suddenly, I could hear a strange noise in the distance. It sounded like a chime of some sort, and it was making me feel calmer and calmer as it drew closer. It was then as the chime tolled incredibly close that I realized this wasn’t a legend after all. This had to be real and it had to be Magus Wazir. I had never believed that Wazir was real before now. He was a wizard of ancient legend and stories, nothing more than that. No one was sure of his actual existence, yet somehow I just knew it had to be him.

I leaped over the counter and ran outside with hopes of catching even a glimpse of the elusive bellringer. I left in such a hurry that my new trainee was left stunned and confused. It was his first day on the job, and poor Bargo turned and looked at the line of customers that seemed to have suddenly grown by 10, as I ran out the door.

By the time I made it outside…Wazir was nowhere to be seen, that is if it truly had been him at all. I frantically looked around knowing he had to have been close by when I suddenly tripped and fell face first onto the dusty road. I sat up, dusted myself off, and looked back to see what had led me to the ground. It was a book of some sort. I went over and picked up the old, tattered leather-bound book. I looked around to see if someone had dropped it, but no one was around. I blew the dust off of the worn cover and cracked the book open carefully to the most recent page.


*Mid-Spring

It’s been years since we last saw Artis. Our precious little girl. We know she has to be out there…but I fear our search is coming to an end. We left the Honor Mountains so long ago, and many have been lost in this search. This is not a decision that comes easy or lightly. I feel it is for the best if we start the long journey back to our home in the mountains. Are they even our home anymore? Should we return to our roots in the foothills of Skylord Rookery? Would we be safer with other Red Wizards in the Capital? Perhaps it is time to move on to someplace new and unknown. I hate to move on without Artis…but it may be time.


Curious, I flipped through the rest of the book, and unbelievably, I knew this handwriting. Without a doubt, this was my mother’s journal. I stood in the middle of the dirt road in disbelief that my family had been looking for me this whole time, all these years. The more I looked, the more questions formed. I couldn’t understand why this journal suddenly appeared outside of my shop - and where was my family now if my mother’s journal was here?

I wondered if it was possible Magus Wazir had left this behind for me. It was said that he was a guide to the lost…but I did not feel lost. This had been the most “found” I had ever felt in my life. It was right then that I realized maybe I wasn’t the one who was lost, but possibly my family was. I needed to know if Wazir left this for me, and if he did, what did it all mean?

Now that we’re all caught up…where do I go from here?

To Be Continued...

Entered by: 0xE912…2CB3 and preserved on chain (see transaction)