The Lore of Alchemist Fire Eater of the Heath

“AAAAAAAAAIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!” – The Alchemist’s general shrieking response to most topics of conversation.

Alchemist Fire Eater might be impervious to flame, but it still burnt when people told him to stop being hot-headed. Keeping a cool composure was tough when you had a burning skull for a head.

What’s more, he came from the heath! You know how dry all that bracken and coarse shrub can get in the summer? Not being able to rest his head for fear of starting a conflagration did little to improve his demeanor.

The alchemist had been human once, of course, before striking a pact with the fiery god cult, which later—for want of a better expression—backfired.

To avoid the cult’s wrath upon his village, he agreed to sacrifice himself and continue to do the fiery god’s work.

He was granted a familiar, a fox trickster named Ember. Ember preferred to roam at night, and since the alchemist had basically become a walking torch, the arrangement suited them both. It also meant he could be spotted (and usually avoided) by any wayfarer that chanced to be out after dark. His existence was one of solitude, though his shrill shrieks would occasional bring people out with pitchforks and pails of water to greet him.

His affliction was at once a blessing and a curse. He hadn’t had a head cold for centuries. Alas, he would oft recall his distant youth when drinking a tankard of ale didn’t engulf him in a hissing cloud of hoppy steam.

Entered by: 0xd75b…CF51 and preserved on chain (see transaction)