Krulm’venor had no idea how long he’d been kept in isolation before the lantern was opened, and he was allowed to flare into being once more, but he knew it had been a long time. It had been at least months, and possibly years since he’d tried to defy his jailer and had his legs cut out from under him in the attempt. Even sitting in the throne room, able to watch everything the Lich did, it was very hard to understand any of it when he was reduced to the size of a single forsaken spark that cast a blue glow so faint it barely reached the golden corpse that he hated with every ounce of his being.

The treatment would have enraged him if he’d had the energy for such a powerful emotion. Instead, he just watched the world flow past as a flickering of events. The only image he’d been able to hold onto for any length of time was the golden bastard that had imprisoned him meeting with a woman clothed only in water. She had radiated power until the Lich had drained her dry and forced her to submit just like it had forced Krulm’venor so long ago.

He shuddered at the humiliation, stirring while the fire that the Lich had built in the crude summoning circle slowly rose higher and his mind returned to him.

“Why do you wake me?” Krulm’venor barked silently at his tormentor as he stirred to life and looked around the dark and changeless throne room. “What fresh torments have you prepared this time?”

There was nothing he could do to stop the Lich from hurting him, but he would not give it the satisfaction of begging or submitting to the monster. Even the short thrill of glorying in fire and blood for the first time in decades hadn’t been worth that terrible price, and that had been truly grand.

“Torments?” the Lich asked silently. “I don’t come to hurt you again stone burner. I have woken you to give you a gift.”

“Gifts? Pah!” the spirit crackled, “I want nothing from you.”

“Nothing? Not even your freedom?” the Lich taunted as one of its many zombie minions approached the lantern, and picked him up from the hook he’d hung on ever since he’d been brought to this place.

The fire spirit felt a flicker of worry, wondering where this monster was taking him after all this time. He didn’t even bother to dignify the Lich’s offer with a response. The only freedom that he was ever likely to receive was when his jailer finally tired of toying with him and snuffed him out for good. He doubted that would be any time soon though, because the foul creature fed on suffering the way that he fed on kindling. He could only watch as the slow moving lantern bearer left the room and began to walk through the dank maze that was the Lich’s home.

These weren’t proper tunnels. Krulm’venor knew that much from his dwarven history. Everything was wrong about them. The places where they turned weren’t square, and neither were the junctions where the walls met the ceiling and the floor. Everything was crooked and rough-hewn. There was no artistry at all in anything the Lich did, and it grated on him to no end. He’d only let things slip as badly as he had because he’d been forced to rely on goblins, but the Lich had all the power it would ever need, and minions that existed only to follow his orders to the letter. It was just sloppy, and it was one more thing the fire spirit would never forgive it for.

“You’ve sat as a trophy in my throne room for too long, Krulm’venor, and your potential has been wasted because you lack the obedience to do what you’re told. That changes today.” The Lich’s silent voice echoed through the halls sourcelessly, following the fire spirit as his lantern was carried along.

“I obeyed you once and I still regret it. I will never…” The words vanished into smoke before Krulm’venor could finish expressing them as he beheld the sights of the room he was brought into.

The room was vast enough that he couldn’t hope to see the walls with the wan blue light of his adulterated form, but what he saw was enough. It was an abattoir, but the gore wasn’t what disturbed him so much that for a moment he flickered hesitantly. Around the rooms were bodies in different stages of disassembly or reassembly, and each of them had been modified to the point where they were no longer strictly human. All except for the thing that stood in the center of the room. It looked human enough, if one had their bones dipped in molten iron and bronze of course. The fire spirit was sure that such a vessel had something to do with him, if only because there was very little of it that looked flammable.

The metal skeleton had a skull of steel and a spine to match, but both of those were gilded so that they blended in with the bronze limbs of the rest of the body. It occurred to the spirit only once he was close to it that it wasn’t the skeleton of a human, but a mixture of human and goblin elements that were most visible in the height and the hunch of the spine.

“You will obey me, and in time you will even thank me for this gift,” the Lich intoned. “Not today or tomorrow I think, but one day you will beg me for more orders, no matter how humble and demanding. You will crave them.”

“A larger, stranger cage, is still just a cage,” the fire spirit blustered, trying to ignore the bad feeling that was building inside of it. “Your lantern didn’t break my will and neither will anything else!”

As Krulm’venor spoke, the zombie that had carried him into the room reached into the lantern with its bare hand and removed the ember that was the true spark of his being. For a single second he was free, but before he had a chance to revel in it or feel the warmth that came with it, the ember was inserted into a small opening on the back of the monstrosity's skull, which was then shut and locked, plunging him once more into the terrible void that the stygium created.

“That zombie will burn to ashes,” the Lich said while the fire spirit tried to adjust to his new surroundings and see what mischief he could get up to in this strange body. “Void fire burns unlife just as easily as true fire burns pitch. It’s a pity you don’t have more control, or you could destroy all my creations just as easily.”

“Oh?” Krulm’venor said, flexing his new hands as he imagined throttling the last spark of unlife from the Lich’s dead eyes. “I’ll remember that when I use this to—”

“Stop!” the Lich yelled in a voice that thundered through his skull. For a moment Krulm’venor tried to keep moving despite the orders. That was a mistake. Instantly the whole body came to life and revealed its true purpose as he was assaulted with a dozen varieties of pain.

“I made that body just for you. I made sure it would be the perfect fit for an insolent, disobedient spirit like you, and each bone in it will be loyal to me until the day I finally let you die,” the Lich gloated. “One day you will be just as loyal I think. I hope it won't be soon though. I’ve devoted too many days to this particular torment, so you’ll have to suffer for decades at least to make it worth my while.”

“Wh-what did you do to me!” the fire spirit screamed. This time, rather than silently speaking from the fire in the throne room, he actually put his new mouth to use and let out a thin, grating voice as sparks spewed from his empty throat.

Right now, he was experiencing the worst pain of his entire existence, and he couldn’t understand why. It was heat, and fire, but it felt like skin that he didn’t have was melting from his bones. Normally fire was a welcome sensation, but right now, even as the traceries of blue fire began to spread across the runes that decorated his ribs, spine, and the long bones of his leg, all he felt was an unquenchable desire for it to go out.

The pain only ended half a minute later when he finally did exactly what the Lich said and stood there perfectly still without even thinking about moving. The runes dimmed slightly when he was still and obedient, but stayed lit. Even thinking about disobeying was enough to cause them to burst into flames once more and make him wish for death.

“I selected the souls that empower your body with great care Krulm’venor. Please know that,” the Lich taunted. “Each one of the bones in that body has been bound to the spirit of a human that you have personally burned to death. Each one of them want nothing more than to make you suffer, and they have permission to do just that whenever you do anything but obey my instructions to the letter.”

“You what? That’s maddnaaarggghhh!” the fire spirit wasn’t even able to finish the sentence before the pain assaulted him again. It lasted for almost a minute before he was finally able to still his mind enough to quell it.

“You won’t be alone with them though,” the Lich continued. “Since I know how much you love goblins, I’ve distilled the spirits of hundreds of them into the sinews and ligaments that make that strange machine move with such fury. Right now, you can scarcely feel them, but in time their darkness will seep into your soul and help you to become the true warlord that you were always meant to be.”

This time Krulm’venor managed to stay silent, but internally the fear competed with rage in his cold heart. He could feel the power flowing through him, but he could also feel how dirty it was. He felt tainted by it already, and it had only been five minutes since they’d been comingled.

They stayed like that in a silent impasse for several more minutes, watching the zombie that was burning with blue fire slowly burn down to nothing but a pile of ashes. Finally, when the Lich had proven his point he said, “I have a job for you. You may speak, but you may not disobey.”

“What do I need to do to return to that lantern,” the fire spirit asked, repressing his rage.

“You really think I would be so merciful,” the Lich asked, almost amused at the idea. “I wish to know more about your past. I want to understand how gods fall to better know how they rise.”

“I will tell you all I know,” Krulm’venor answered, gritting his teeth as he studied the abomination he had become.

“But you do not know enough!” the Lich declared in a voice so loud it echoed in his skull. “So you will return to the depths and rediscover them for me. You will tell me of Ghen’tal and Mournden. You will discover why you were once called the stone burner, or you will die in the attempt.”

Even as the Lich spoke the words, Krulm’venor felt the compulsion to start walking, but he hazarded a few words anyway, “But the way is blocked, there is no way into the deeps any longer.”

“The miners in the red hills following the gold vein have found tunnels so deep the goblins never explored them. They were almost certainly how you found your way to the surface, and they are how you will find your way back,” the Lich answered smoothly. “You will walk back to where this all started, avoiding contact with men where you can, and killing anyone who sees you when you must. I will see through your eyes, and let you know when it is time to return.”

“But—” the fire spirit protested, feeling the pain already starting to blossom in places in his new body.

The Lich interrupted him though. “If you do not go now I will have you stand in the bottom of the Oroza for a year and a day, and we can satisfy a different curiosity of mine: to see what it feels like as you drown while you are burned alive.”

The wave of fear was enough to overpower the pain that was coursing through Krulm’venor, and he started to move immediately.