Friendly Fire!

Peering down through the small hatchway, from the now secure spire space, Fortu can’t fault Liga Bur’s clever plan. Letting their tiny new fiery teammate deal with the swarms of rats while they stay safe and unburnt up here? Brilliant! But he’s still disturbed by the fiery elemental’s level of delight.

Apparently incapable of disguising its maniacal glee, the flame creature; Dijonn cackles and crackles with joyous laughter as the, seemingly endless, procession of grey rats crisp and char beneath him.

“You’re not on fire, you filthy, fleshy, furry vermin! Fire’s on you!”

Despite the flames, the rats continue to swarm into the room from both doorways, suicideally compelled by the enchanted panpipes, just to burn up almost instantly. 

As Doberman, Arowe, Fourtu and Liga Bur continue to gaze down from the small attic hatchway, the intense heat from below singes their hair and eyebrows, while the greasy black smoke, thankfully, vents up past them through the opened spire top.

It’s an alarming sight to behold. The small fire elemental uses the four flaskfulls of oil to increase his own power and burn with such intensity, that the two sturdy, cold-iron reinforced wooden doors, are quickly reduced to blackened charcoal.

After just a few minutes roaring mayhem though, as his oil, fat and fur fuel supply runs low, Dijonn starts to shrink back from a room-sized inferno to his usual torch-like flame.

As the stuttering fire creature cries up to Liga Bur for help, the Halfling immediately stretches down with a third, unused and unlit, tar saturated torch and proffers it to his greedy but grateful servant. 

Fortu though, can’t help but notice the surprising distance the slightly panicked Dijonn is able to leap, with an unsettling feeling of foreboding.