The mana bubble wavers, the shield wall folding slow.
We must find a way out now, or we all rot below.
Four long years, rich investors, metric tons of gold.
Years of training, weighed it out, risks we took so bold.
All the flasks and trinkets bought, did we miscalculate?
I learned so much from years in school, at exponential rate.
A young up and coming mage, the brightest of my class.
The rabbit hole can go no deeper. I know it all at last.
How could I be so naive? Blood covers my hands.
Even simple cantrip healers seem to understand.
They know something I do not, battle the only teacher,
Nought to do with inscribed runes or summoning of creature,
Nought to do with history, centuries of artifact war,
Nought to do with scrying rogues and abstract tactic lore,
Nought to do with magic walls or advanced portal theory,
Everything to do with the players, the time it takes to weary.
Everything to do with the ability to strain for days on end.
Bare to smell the bloated corpses, the alleys filled with dread.
It broke out in the chapel, the carrier stun locked hard.
He had lots of contingencies, sleeves filled with extra cards.
It took him forty six minutes to fall, the artifact he dropped.
By that time the place was packed, all in or out was stopped.
We paved our way, kill by kill to the pile of stun locked shields,
The way was easier then I imagined, I pondered all our yield.
Yet as we closed, a defected rogue, warped up to a ledge.
She held the Ankh, and ran for it, across the rooftops edge.
How she managed to make the room, that clever little spy,
If only I knew these events would lead to a chase awry,
One that filled the day with congested paths of death,
Hasting around, sprinting, warping, armies short of breath.
Here we are locked in the sewers, shit up to our knees.
We killed that little fucking bitch and the artifact I see.
We are so close, but I fear my death will come before,
I can lay my hands on it, this power such a chore.
It has been about fourteen hours of non stop spells and swords.
Cleverly let us do all the work, those god damn bastard lords.
Let us chase the carrier, drive ourselves into this dead end.
There really is no way out, no energy to defend.
First it will be my healers, their bubble hearth is failing,
My shields in front are dented, their muted voices trailing.
There really is nowhere to go, we are truly outclassed,
Their runes are so directed, their bubble built to last.
Their magi are smirking now, they know that they have won.
They fought this fight their whole lives, I wish that I could run.
Their energy is limitless, their meteors hit harder,
Without warning our bubble pops, too tired is my guarder.
Their relentless spells change form, now they hit us all.
Big and fat for a final push, cant reinforce our wall.
Once the true fear starts, left and right they drop like flies.
I cast and give it everything, I wont stop \'till I die .
I know that I will perish here, foolish and covered in gunk.
Forgotten to all history, a big headed magi punk,
Chasing like we all do after some abstract, ultimate power.
At least in the aftermath no one can label me a coward.