“The World Doesn't Want Freedom..It wants Order, Reassurance, Control” These were the words of the first molten lord when they rose to power, the flame controlling tyrant slaughtered the entire royal family of the Dwarven Kingdoms, from this he turned the ancient mountain keep of the dwarfs into his volcanic stronghold, from its central position he ruled over the world with a Iron Fist but the power of the Molten Lord does not make one person invincible , They, still die and from this a rule was formed, the person who slays the Molten Lord, becomes the new Molten Lord, If they are a tyrant like the first lord, or a benevolent caring ruler, it entirely up to them, and over the many years lords of each sides of the spectrum have risen to power, and fallen and even now the newest molten lord is challenged.

The Long stone Hallways of the Stronghold were void of any life unless you count the immortal flicker of the torches that light it's dark walls with long shadows, Suddenly the sound of large stone doors slamming open and three voices of different tones, accents, even genders filled the void like hall and when the voices seemed to silence the clumsy sound of metal boots against the stone filled the hall, its owner was another ”Hero”, one of many who have tried to take down the molten lord, Leading the pack of three heros was a elf man, he wore robes of a forgotten order, ruined and crushed by the tyrant lord, he was only young still having that elfish youth and vigor to him but with him there were two others. One a Stormborn Women, one who hailed from the kingdom to the east, a land of kings and counts whos cities sit atop mountain ranges as high as the very stronghold they storm. Her with hair as white as the snowy hilltops she once called home and eyes as blue as the most clean seas. She wore leather armour with a cloak of beasts slain, who held a large lance that could pierced the heavens with its Iced tipped point, along with the duo was a Dwarven Man, whos stone scalded skin was covered in plates of Iron and Steel, A Juggernaut of the Shortest Style who held a Hammer Object, but the head of which looked like a beasts jaw, two sets of hammer head like teeth, and hinges attaching there positions to the top of the strange gear lidden weapon. He gruffed as they walked down the hallway slowly, his rough dwarven voice almost echoing across the walls. “The Guards Outside Seemed Surprised. I thought you said heros try this all the time Alizihar.” The Elf Still on Edged Shushed his Dwarven Companion as they came up to a large wooden door, its wood seemed burnt and ancient, just like the rest of the almost crumbling stronghold, between exchanging looks the Short Juggernaut got annoyed at the duos bickering and “Planning” and he barged his shoulder into the door sending it slowly swinging open, and a wave of heat hitting against them.

The Door Swung open, Unveiling the Feast hall of the Stronghold, The heat was quickly explained, in the corners of the room magma fell into a pool on the floor, sinking deep down into the Veins of the Stronghold, In the Center of the Room was a Long Stone Table, Rumour has it the Molten Lord that Came before threw great parties, Invited Kings, Barons, Warlords, Anyone who would come, but that wasn't the Lord that sat on the massive iron throne at the back of the feast hall, not this was the lord that had crushed orders, pillaged towns, ruined kingdoms, she was a tyrant by blood, some say she was born from the depths of hell herself, some say she was a southern warlords bride to be, who eat his heart and killed his warband by herself, but right now this monster of a women sat alone on her throne, looking bored,

Her Pale Skin had been dirtied by the ash that peppered her cheeks and forehead, a distinct lack of sweat even as she sat so close to the pools of magma, her hair might of been red once, but this middle aged womens hair was a faint wine colour, faded to almost greying, but her eyes were blood red, and seemed to burn with a sudden desire, a hunger for the death of her boredom and the hero's who would grand her boredoms execution as she stood up, a sense of dread would wash over the trio of heroes as they realize what they were truly dealing with, she was nearly seven foot tall standing, her body broad and toned her almost like a half giant of the stories told by Folk Singers and Fairy Peddlers.The armour that hugged her had patches of grey across its black skin, its was as old as this stronghold, her gauntlets were in the same state, they had a fur underlining but even the fur seemed to be withered and coming apart at the seams. “More Heros ?... I sit alone in this damned place and you take this long to show up… I should kill you slower just to make sure I am not bored until the next pair arrive !” Her voice was powerful, commanding and dark in its tone, but had the shards of a accent, stormborn ? Ironbay ? it was hard to tell but it was clear, this woman was a normal person once but not anymore.

“We are here to stop you and end this tyrannical reign on this la..” The Elf Warrior was cut off in the middle of his heroic speech by the women letting out a groan, grabbing something off her back and drawing it, in normal hands this sword would be described as “Compensating for Something” but in this woman's hands it seemed like nothing, even with the clever like blade, and the way the metal was red hot shifting around like it was pure liquid fire in a solid state it almost memoriseing if she wasn't planning on turning them to Warg Meat with it. “I have heard that speech four times in the past three days. “I will stop you ! I will bring order and peace to the land” each person who gave me that speech was slain by my hand… but you were smart pointy ears.. You brought friends” The Women raised her foot and slammed it down on the stone table, making it shake as she using the leverage on it to get onto the table, and walk down it slowly towards them, “I am going to see if I can take down three in a hour” She got a slightly sadistic look on her face as she stomps down the table towards them, but before the elf could react his stormborn friend took to the table and charged, and as she got close to the women. Steam rose up suddenly, Fire and Ice, the eternal feud, the Ice lance pushed against the clever defensively. “Davon get her now !” The Small Dwarf Charged Forward and Slammed the Jaws of the Lance into her leg, and like a viscous bear trap it clamped down, crushing against her leg and forcing the armour in words with a pop, if that was the armour or her bone the tyrant couldn't tell, but she was forced down to one knee with a simple grunt,

The Stormborn Women Pulled the Lance Back, and before the tyrant could react plunged it deep into the womens chest, its icey tip slicing past the ageing armour with ease and with a spurt of blood behind the large women going across the stone table, the tyrant was frozen in pain and, surprise, so many years she was never tricked or challenged, all the heroes before her were so simple, so egotistical, killed simply but now, she was beaten, her body falling back as the stormborn women rips her lance out, a look of pride on her face her companions cheer in Joy

“She's dead ! hahah your the new lord, we can change shit for real now Saphia” The women looks at her elf friend, delivering a rare smile as she nods her head and turns, wiping the blood off her weapon she turned her head quickly, making sure the tyrant wasn't still moving, before walking past the body heading to the throne, The Skittish Elf Hero walked past, and when the molten lord reached out to grab him, trying to strike him one more time, he panicked and zapped her, and as death over took the women, her last senses heard the three heros, breaking out in a argument, as the elf..just took the stormborns women on the throne of the molten.