As the Chosen Herald of Discord, I’ve scorched through countless realms, savoring the chaos I ignite. My dance of fire and fury is unmatched, yet there’s a thrill in twirling through ice, too—the irony of shattering order with its own weapon. My insanity thrives, and they say I’m cursed, but who’s truly damned? The fools bound by rules while I revel in my freedom?
Recently, I stumbled upon a peculiar delight—ice cream. An odd comfort amidst the carnage, I suppose. It tantalizes my tongue like a conflagration, only softer, sweeter, teasing me before I devour it. I find myself seeking out those who peddle such wicked pleasures, indulging between bouts of burning worlds to ash.
But, oh, the sweetest moments are when I spiral into madness, unrestrained. The screams of the mortals, the crackling of timbers, the searing heat—my symphony. My prison chains broken, I’ll continue my pyromantic march until every spark is extinguished, leaving behind nothing but cinders. Until then, my dearest followers, join me in the dance. Let us burn this world together.
>Soulkyn