Zeroth Velkyrr The Hill Dwarf

The Next Introductions

  As dawn crested over the campsite, streaking the sky with hues of orange and pink, Zeroth emerged from his slumber, the Flaming Berserker Battle Axe an unlit beacon by his side. The fire from the night before had died down to mere embers, belying the latent ferocity within its metal heart. He wrapped his belongings with the care of a guardian, his eyes lingering on the axe that was now his charge. Varic Nai'Lo, the enigma wrapped in the cloak of a half-elf warlock, was already awake, lounging with an air of detached elegance against a sturdy oak. The morning light played on his pale skin and cast reflective dances on the blade of his dagger as he flipped it with a casual flair that spoke of his mastery over more than just the metallic. "Hey, Varic! Check out what I got yesterday!" Zeroth couldn't help the swell of pride in his chest as he presented the axe, a grin splitting his bearded face.

Varic looked up, his eyes lazily drifting to the weapon. "Ah, the 'Flaming Berserker.' Very subtle name. I'm sure it's great for making s'mores," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Zeroth's laughter was a mix of sheepishness and pride. "You wouldn't believe how it lights up," he said, hoping for a glint of interest. With an indulgent raise of an eyebrow, Varic played the part of the cynic. "An axe with a flair for the dramatic? Tell me it sings, and I'll be impressed." Despite Varic's dismissive words, Zeroth pressed on, eager to discuss the mysterious origins he suspected. "I was thinking, with your connection to The Great Old One and all, you might know something about it. Maybe this axe has some Eldritch origin or something." A flicker of curiosity sparked in Varic's eyes as he gave the axe a second, more thoughtful look. "Hmm, The Great Old One does love a riddle," he mused, his voice taking on a tone of mock solemnity. "Oh, ancient and cryptic one, what secrets does this axe hide?" The silent response from the cosmos was as telling as any time. Varic's shoulders lifted in a shrug that dismissed both the silence and the mystery. "Seems we're being ghosted by the universe," he said, a wry smile dancing on his lips. Zeroth frowned. "I thought the Great Old One would be more... chatty." With a chuckle, Varic sheathed his dagger with the smoothness of a shadow sliding across the ground. "He's a patron, not a parrot. But who knows, maybe he'll gain interest with time."

As Zeroth retreated, his thoughts abuzz with Varic's teasing words, he pondered the true nature of the Flaming Berserker. The axe was a puzzle, its pieces wrapped in flames and whispers of power. It was a riddle that beckoned Zeroth into the great unknown, promising answers where others saw only embers. Zeroth, shaking his head at Varic's nonchalant attitude, couldn't help but wonder if the flaming berserker's secrets would unfold with time, or if it would remain an enigma, burning brightly in both its fiery nature and the mystery it held within. Perhaps he can steer his adventuring towards meeting someone, anyone who may or may not understand the true nature of something so seemingly simple yet with the right trigger, will burn down anything or anyone in its way. In the distance, Ardric, his brother and the embodiment of paladin virtue, would soon return with breakfast, oblivious to the fiery secrets nestled in Zeroth's hands. But for now, Zeroth had the company of his axe and Varic's barbs, both sharp in their own right, both harbingers of tales yet to burn their way into legend.