Fire

Fire is named the chief of the Divine elements. A righteous flame to drive back your foes and crush whatever darkness hinders you. This is the chosen element of many great warriors and fierce mages alike. Those who wish mastery over it must take control over their emotions, but must not extinguish them. Instead they must use them in whichever way they see fit.

Way of the Sunweaver

There is destruction in fire, yes. But there is also life and rebirth.

They were idiots, the lot of them. Charging into a fight they knew nothing about. What if, at the other end of that canyon sat an army that could wipe them off the face of the plane in a matter of minutes? They still continued forward. Or, even more likely, a trap or an ambush. They still continued forward. She still followed them, a delicate flame nervously dancing from her fingertips. Whatever lay at the end of this canyon, they would need her, that was guaranteed. And so she continued forward.

Way of the Hellreaver

Upturn the very roots of hells, then burn it all to ash.

The young tiefling's knuckles were bloody, ash covered his face and sweat dripped down his neck. He readjusted his grip on his sword and tightened the strap on his shield that was wrapped around his pulsing forearms. Orks some called them. But that was a misleading name, at least the Orks of old were Underlings, but he atleast had some sense of empathy for them. These Corruks were an unholy union that deserved nothing more than fire and death. He stood up straight, panting. The devils that surrounded him smiled menacingly, so he returned the grin.

Way of the Forgeblazer

Steadfast, vigilant, red-hot and tempered. Refine yourself, like a piece of steel between a hammer and a mighty iron anvil.

The Justicar brushed a chitinous hand across the darkened iron helmet. His kind never usually wore the same metal clothing like the rest of the races. They didn’t need it, of course. But it was symbolic, and the rest of the order wore it too. He was apart of this order now, though he looked vastly different from the rest of them they accepted him. He put the helmet on and drew his blade as the massive wooden doors opened, revealing the night sky, painting with smoke, snow and ash. His sword began to glow orange. A city and its people needed protection. His duty was to make sure they got it.

Way of the Wildfire

Consume.

They told us to be patient. They tried to teach us about self-reservation, or was it self-preservation? I can’t seem to remember; I wasn’t paying attention. They knew that when they started talking of course, what they didn’t know was the ferocity we would unleash when the time came. It was reckless, it bordered on complete disregard for ones own safety. Fire flooded the forest, the creatures that had chased them thus far were discouraged from taking another step forward.