The treatment is slow, but among the forges there is a long-awaited sense of triumph. The Forge Colossus tears our foes limb from limb as its furnaces burn, and although the stone remains on our bodies, our thoughts are freed from its shackles. With each phase, transformation can be felt within. Though we grudgingly accept our new bodies, we are bound for irreversible change. All has not been to plan, however. Some among us have not withstood the treatment. Their bodies were melted from within by fire, leaving behind nothing but ash. We mourn them, but their wills were perhaps not strong enough for the rites. The ritual priests propose the fallen may have been overwhelmed by a force connected to or perhaps superior to what we're harnessing. A being of pure and ancient fire. Regardless, the Stone Summit will not yield. We are the masters of our lands and all within them.