Ironworks Gaming Forum - She had been warned - a cautionary tale. (Many spoilers)

The sorcerer, Favian Lowe, stumbled away from the dungeon entrance and slumped down on a convenient rock. Her gaze fixed, bitter and dejected, on the distant line of crags. The sun was setting over the Windspear Hills. Soft rose light brought out something of beauty in the desolate landscape, but her eyes took no pleasure from the sight.

"It's over," she whispered to herself, while a tear spilled down her cheek.

She had been warned, she knew, oh yes, she had been warned. Yet cynically she had dismissed the received wisdom of the ancients and had embarked on the course which had brought her to her present despair.

In the beginning, it had all seemed so much fun. Bravely she had rejected the offers of help from her former friends and set out alone to escape from the dungeon, eager for new challenges. And, at first, challenges there had been in plenty - memphits can be vicious little buggers. There had also been excitement to see how quickly her experience mounted. Even before she reached the daylight of Waukeen's Promenade her skills had advanced.

A sad smile touch Favian's lips as she remembered the day she reach level 15 and had summoned forth her first skeleton warrior; the perfect disposable fighter, tall, tough and very magic resistant. It had been a triumph, and the beginning of the end. Her smile twisted to a sickened grimace at the next memory - the forty skeleton warriors who had laid waste to Ust Natha. She had followed after them; a magic missile here, a finger of death there, but it hadn't truly been needed. She hadn't lost a single hit point.

That was when she had sworn never to misuse project image again. It had not helped. Favian's eyes dropped to the ring of Gaxx on her finger. There wouldn't have been room for more than five mordenkainen swords on that little platform anyway. Perhaps she shouldn't have hasted them, or cast protection from...

Favian shook her head to break off her train of thought. No. It was over.

This visit to the Windspear Hills had been her last attempt to try and recapture the sense of enjoyment she had once known. Not that she thought Firkragg would be a serious challenge. Nothing was a challenge anymore. But she had remembered a tale from one veteran adventurer - feeblemind followed by polymorph other. Turn Firkragg into a squirrel and then do something really humiliating to him

Unfortunately, polymorph other was not in her repertoire, but she had enough other spells. She would do something so originally humorous to the arrogant bastard that she would be able to tell everyone about it.

She had sauntered through the dungeon, brushing aside the pathetic attempts to stop her, and at last had stood before the huge red dragon. Firkragg had sat disdainful and overconfident in his big blue circle. For the first time in a dozen encounters, the smile had returned to her lips. This was going to be fun.

The first step was feeblemind. Favian had cast the spell. And it had bounced straight off the dragon's magic resistance. All right, she had thought, lower resistance. She cast the second spell. Firkragg's circle had turned red and the forgotten chain contingency had sprung, unbidden, into effect - three abi-dalzim's, one dead dragon.

Favian felt sick. She remembered all the times before - a party of six adventures, fighting, struggling, burnt and buffeted, and the final triumph when they stood over the dragon's body. All of them more dead than alive, but victorious.

But this time it was over. Here she stopped. Irenicus could keep her soul. This was no game for a solo sorcerer.

She had just killed Firkragg by accident.

[ 04-14-2004, 08:04 PM: Message edited by: Andraste ]