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Description
My entry piece for the Design the "Ultimate Evil" contest held by I want to thank for letting me use her beautiful "Fire stock" image found here [link]

Here's a better view of his Axe [link] and his sword [link]
the grass was made following this tutorial [link]

now for the backstory

Pyre was born into the Fire Tribe and raised to be a warrior monk, one of the protectors of the tribe and a guardian of its sacred teachings. In order to become a warrior monk in the Fire Tribe a man must first complete a sacred right of passage. In the dead of winter he must go, alone, into the wilderness and climb the sacred mountain there at the top of the mountain he must spend the night without building a fire. If the spark from Great Spirit of Fire dwells within him he will survive, if it does not… then he will not return…

With only a monk’s Scarlet Cloak for warmth Pyre left the village before sunrise, unafraid, even though a terrible storm was gathering on the horizon. All day he climbed and as the sun set he arrived at the mountain’s peak. Before he could even begin searching for shelter against the cold the storm arrived and brought with it a fierce wind and terrible thunder! As the lightning struck it tore trees asunder and split great stones, soon the sparks it left were fanned by the winds and the whole summit was engulfed in flames!

Pyre knew he could not fight nor escape, if Great Spirit of Fire wanted to claim him then that was his destiny. Strangely he felt no fear, he was awed by the power of the Great Spirit of Fire but not afraid, for he knew all things must eventually die and become ash once again, this was the teaching of the Fire Tribe, and his very name was a constant reminder of this. If the he was going to die this night, if that was the Great Spirit’s will, then he would die honorably. He began to meditate, even as the flames grew nearer and the smoke blackened the already dark sky, he meditated even as the flames lashed at him and burned his flesh, he did not cry out nor attempt to flee from his fate.

But it seemed the Great Spirit of Fire had other plans for him for with a change in the winds the flames shifted. And as the sun rose on the horizon Pyre found he was still alive, badly burned but alive. The tattered remnants of his scarlet cloak were just enough to bandage his hands; the Great Spirit of Fire had left him exactly what he needed for his return to the village. The descent was slow and agonizing but he knew that these burns were a sign from Great Spirit of Fire. Pyre knew he had been spared by the Great Spirit of Fire. Perhaps he had been spared for a greater purpose. As the sun set again and he finally arrived at the village he realized what that purpose was, for he saw a sight which filled him with dread and anger.

The shifting winds had brought the fire here to the village. But the villagers, instead of surrendering to the will of Great Spirit of Fire as Pyre himself had done, were instead fighting the flames! This was sacrilege! It was Blasphemy! It could not go unpunished. That, he knew, was why he had been tested, and why he had been spared, so he could see the tribe for what it truly was, a group of hypocrites and blasphemers!

Unnoticed in all the commotion he entered the chief’s chambers and donned the sacred armor, said to have been forged by the Great Spirit of Fire himself in times long past. Though the armor was said to fit no mortal man, with so much of his flesh gone, the armor fit Pyre’s form perfectly. Almost as though his it was meant to be worn only by those who had surrendered their flesh to the Great Spirit of Fire. He also took the High Priest’s Ceremonial Axe and the War Chief’s Sacred Sword, for he knew they both were his by right and that he would have use for them on this night.

Pyre cleansed his fellow tribesman in holy fire; those who survived were allowed to join his New Congregation. On that night the Fire Tribe died, but from its ashes like the phoenix, arose a new life The Dark-Fire Clan. Led by Lord Pyre the Dark-Fire Clan is on a Holy Crusade to purifying the world with holy fire that it may also be born anew.

Let me know what you think of the piece and the story! all criticisms and comments are welcome!

Description
My entry piece for the Design the "Ultimate Evil" contest held by I want to thank for letting me use her beautiful "Fire stock" image found here [link]

Here's a better view of his Axe [link] and his sword [link]
the grass was made following this tutorial [link]

now for the backstory

Pyre was born into the Fire Tribe and raised to be a warrior monk, one of the protectors of the tribe and a guardian of its sacred teachings. In order to become a warrior monk in the Fire Tribe a man must first complete a sacred right of passage. In the dead of winter he must go, alone, into the wilderness and climb the sacred mountain there at the top of the mountain he must spend the night without building a fire. If the spark from Great Spirit of Fire dwells within him he will survive, if it does not… then he will not return…

With only a monk’s Scarlet Cloak for warmth Pyre left the village before sunrise, unafraid, even though a terrible storm was gathering on the horizon. All day he climbed and as the sun set he arrived at the mountain’s peak. Before he could even begin searching for shelter against the cold the storm arrived and brought with it a fierce wind and terrible thunder! As the lightning struck it tore trees asunder and split great stones, soon the sparks it left were fanned by the winds and the whole summit was engulfed in flames!

Pyre knew he could not fight nor escape, if Great Spirit of Fire wanted to claim him then that was his destiny. Strangely he felt no fear, he was awed by the power of the Great Spirit of Fire but not afraid, for he knew all things must eventually die and become ash once again, this was the teaching of the Fire Tribe, and his very name was a constant reminder of this. If the he was going to die this night, if that was the Great Spirit’s will, then he would die honorably. He began to meditate, even as the flames grew nearer and the smoke blackened the already dark sky, he meditated even as the flames lashed at him and burned his flesh, he did not cry out nor attempt to flee from his fate.

But it seemed the Great Spirit of Fire had other plans for him for with a change in the winds the flames shifted. And as the sun rose on the horizon Pyre found he was still alive, badly burned but alive. The tattered remnants of his scarlet cloak were just enough to bandage his hands; the Great Spirit of Fire had left him exactly what he needed for his return to the village. The descent was slow and agonizing but he knew that these burns were a sign from Great Spirit of Fire. Pyre knew he had been spared by the Great Spirit of Fire. Perhaps he had been spared for a greater purpose. As the sun set again and he finally arrived at the village he realized what that purpose was, for he saw a sight which filled him with dread and anger.

The shifting winds had brought the fire here to the village. But the villagers, instead of surrendering to the will of Great Spirit of Fire as Pyre himself had done, were instead fighting the flames! This was sacrilege! It was Blasphemy! It could not go unpunished. That, he knew, was why he had been tested, and why he had been spared, so he could see the tribe for what it truly was, a group of hypocrites and blasphemers!

Unnoticed in all the commotion he entered the chief’s chambers and donned the sacred armor, said to have been forged by the Great Spirit of Fire himself in times long past. Though the armor was said to fit no mortal man, with so much of his flesh gone, the armor fit Pyre’s form perfectly. Almost as though his it was meant to be worn only by those who had surrendered their flesh to the Great Spirit of Fire. He also took the High Priest’s Ceremonial Axe and the War Chief’s Sacred Sword, for he knew they both were his by right and that he would have use for them on this night.

Pyre cleansed his fellow tribesman in holy fire; those who survived were allowed to join his New Congregation. On that night the Fire Tribe died, but from its ashes like the phoenix, arose a new life The Dark-Fire Clan. Led by Lord Pyre the Dark-Fire Clan is on a Holy Crusade to purifying the world with holy fire that it may also be born anew.

Let me know what you think of the piece and the story! all criticisms and comments are welcome!