In a faraway place known as Lokfar there was a seafaring marauder called Kegan Rodhe. As was his people's way, Kegan sailed far and wide with his fellows, stealing treasures from those unlucky enough to catch their attention. To some, he was a monster; to others, just a man. One night, as they sailed through the arctic waters, strange lights danced over the frozen wastes. There was something hypnotic about them; it was something that drew them to it like moths to a flame. Trekking across the frozen waste, they came to a cave covered in ancient runes. The meaning of the runes long lost to them, Kegan led the way inside. There, inside a perfect cage of ice floated a dancing column of flame. There was no way such a thing should be burning, especially not in this place. However, its movement w