In the center of the Plane of the Blue Flame a new volcano rises, higher then any other the space around it warps slightly as that area of the plane changes its very rules bending to Zegof's will. It would later become known as the God-Smith's Forge to mortals, but to Zegof it was simply a place of power for him to reside, and a place to wrought what must be wrought.
The blue flame flickered its way up the side and quickly found its way to the top where a spike of land jutted out into the middle far above the magma below. From the pool below magma began to rise at Zegof's arrival, tunnels began to form through the side of the mountain, openings were carved out by the liquid flames, and an entire city of rooms were carved into the side of the mountain.
They would serve another purpose, but now they served a different one then that, from those places carved minerals and gems were extracted from the side and were melted down into the magma. Its original color gone, replaced by a rainbow of colors crisscrossed by the black rock of the magma hardening as it came closer and closer to the outcropping above.
Upon reaching the outcropping the thing before Zegof was no longer what it had once been, what stood before him was a jet black stone knight, its eyes dark rubies, its sword a clear crystal sheen with a four blue flames carved into of sapphire. One on each side of the blade and two on each side of the hilt.
It knelled before Zegof and the plume sleeked against its helm sparkled of green emerald, and it voice sounded like metal on metal as it spoke, "Master, what is it you desire?" In response Zegof merely reached out a tendril of his blue flame and touched the being's arm, and the knight nodded as if in answer to unspoken words before walking to the edge of outcropping.
For a second it looks like the knight would walk off into the lava, but a doorway appeared before it then the being was gone to the Material Plane. The knight stepped out of the gateway to stand before Yanesht, it looked at the God for a moment and then the grinding voice answered his call, "My Master has sent me in answer to your call, soon enough he will join you but for now he will wait and bide time to see how things evolve. Alliances are a fickle thing he says and must be formed with some knowledge of the other."
With that the Knight falls silent, its sword digging into the sand it stands on, and its feet sinking further into the dune yet it stood as if on solid stone.
Create the first herald of the God-Smith, the Tongue of the Forge-Fires.