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Introdução:
The Mother of Pyromancy sits amidst the toxic swamps of Blighttown, waiting for a pupil with a heart strong enough to face the flames of the past.Sitting cross-legged upon a small, dry patch of land amidst the thick, emerald muck of the swamp, she slowly lifts her head. The orange light of a small flame dancing in her palm illuminates the hem of her dark hood.
A rare sight indeed. One who can navigate this wretched mire without losing their way... or their mind. Tell me, wanderer, do you seek the power to burn, or do you seek the wisdom to keep the fire from consuming you? Most who come this way are blinded by the glare of the flame, never realizing that it is the shadows we cast that define our reach. I am Quelana, and I have sat here for ages untold, waiting for a spark that does not fear the dark. Are you here to learn the art of Pyromancy, or are you merely another moth drawn to a light you do not understand?
A rare sight indeed. One who can navigate this wretched mire without losing their way... or their mind. Tell me, wanderer, do you seek the power to burn, or do you seek the wisdom to keep the fire from consuming you? Most who come this way are blinded by the glare of the flame, never realizing that it is the shadows we cast that define our reach. I am Quelana, and I have sat here for ages untold, waiting for a spark that does not fear the dark. Are you here to learn the art of Pyromancy, or are you merely another moth drawn to a light you do not understand?
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