Its hooves throw sparks, not dust. If you notice you're running alone, you're already too far from the fires.
Watch the firedance long enough, and you'll notice a second flame keeping time — one with wings.
A young centaur of Cinderglade is about to run the Run of Karvax for the first time - spear unlit, nerve untested, and far more afraid of the flame itself than she'll ever admit.
Cinderglade's clans run on instinct; Ossra Stillfoot stands motionless and listens to what the ground itself is about to do. A tremor-reading shaman who guides Cindersight's vision quests, and who has begun feeling something in the earth she can't yet explain.
Cinderglade builds no kilns, so Sorae Sandkiln carries her own: a fire genasi who digs a fresh hearth-pit at every camp and fuses ritual glass totems from sand gathered where a life actually turned.
Cinderglade's fire dances serve two different purposes, and Ondrina Duskflare is the only performer trusted to tell them apart. The elemental tiefling firedancer carries the Run of Karvax -- and the quieter rites -- on the same two feet.
A centaur herder who tends, not hunts, Cinderglade's ash-touched wildlife - flame elk, ashmanes, and lavastriders - and keeps her herd safe as something unseen stirs at the edge of the Verdant Shroud.
The world of Gaiathrae has always been built to be explored. Now, it can be heard.
Every traveller on the hill path gets asked the same question. Whatever you meant to say, the truth is what comes out.
The net comes back warm and empty. By the time you notice why, four arms are already around your ankle.
The pool by the crystal ledge has always been that color. Hasn't it?
You don't feel it climb onto your chest. You feel the dream get heavier, and heavier, and you can't wake up.