To Kill a Wizard

Excerpt from a speech given at the Great Council of the Weald:

> "Neighbouring Republic of Greater Lysternum has been dominated by the dark wizard Lord Chaert for a decade, to the point where the legislature is meaningless and his government is the ruling power in the country. Sources tell us he has turned his eye to us, coveting our bandywood and ironcone forests. His soldiers were once men, but are now solid iron and steel. They have no will of their own. We cannot hope to withstand them and keep our independence without magical help. "
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So! You're an adventurer, and you want to save the Weald. You have equipment most people have never heard of, and that some wouldn't even think possible. Your body is fit and strong, your mind sharpened by adventures that have brought you to the brink of death and to the farthest regions of Erwt. You are the embodiment of Adventurer, at the peak of your game. You're already legendary, but you have yet to put your mark on history. Now you will vanquish the evil in his grim abode. You will face Lord Chaert.

When you cross the bridge over the border river from Grennoch to Lysternum, you're spotted by his iron soldiers. They start to pursue you. Being made of animated iron instead of natural flesh, they never tire. Being bound to Lord Chaert's will, they never give up. Soon, pigeons are dispatched to inform the Lord of your arrival in Lysternum, your movements, and your successful evasion. He sends more troops to intercept you.

You manage to shake your pursuers, using a novel combination of alchemical products to render yourself untrackable by sight or scent, combined with wilderness skills honed over decades of adventuring.

Lord Chaert mobilizes the entirety of his forces. Your legendary reputation precedes you, and he takes no chances.

You're amazing. The best of the best. Nobody stands in your way. When the iron men finally catch up to you, you manage to cut one down. And then another, and another! Incredibly, you're undaunted by these magical supersoldiers - you're just such a badass, and your enchanted sword is sharper than an eagle's eye. Hope rises in the hearts of the people as you leave dead and incapacitated metal men in your wake. Maybe the darkness will finally lift from the kingdom?

You manage to shake your pursuit again, and finally make it to Lord Chaert's redoubt, undetected. You make it across the moat, over the walls, into the keep. The greatest fortification in the Weald was trivial to you. Finally, you find the Dark Lord. In complete silence, blade drawn, you creep towards him from behind, as he admires a particularly appealing tapestry he tore from the cathedral in Lysternum. You swing with all your might, and... your sword freezes in mid-air.

Lord Chaert turns, seemingly surprised. "Oh!? You're already here!" He notices the suspended sword, and continues ,"Didn't you expect wards?"

Meanwhile, you've palmed a small vial from its sleeve pocket. "I had to try, Lord Chaert," as you bow in supplicance and reach for his hand.

He allows you to take it for a kiss, and you stab the vial into his flesh, allowing its contents to pour into the wound.

"Aghhh!" he cries, and falls backwards against the tapestry. His spellbook appears open in his hands, his hair grows longer by half an inch, and he closes it again with a momentary whisper, a flash of bright light and the sound of thunder. As the echoes fade, you realize the poisons must have been neutralized, or he would be dead already: it had already been several seconds.

"That was as unpleasant as it was ineffective," he declares. "What's next?"

You throw a flask at his feet, which bursts into violent flame. Some of the burning liquid spills on you, and you desperately unbuckle your boots and tear off your trousers to get it off. Even so, your legs and feet end up scorched and burned. The pain is intolerable, but you manage to maintain your consciousness enough to notice that the tapestry and everything in the room also caught fire. The redoubt is a huge inferno - that flask was a hundred times more powerful than that alchemist had promised!

Even so, Lord Chaert remains at ease, although he does look very annoyed. With a broad gesture and a short phrase, the redoubt is cloaked in a cooling mist. The flames subside and eventually die out, as the mist settles. Lord Chaert is entirely unaffected by the lingering heat, although he coughs in the smoke. Your own condition is dire, but you're alive... for now.

"Oh dear, look what you did to yourself. Best I take care of you... properly."

And with that, he casts a complicated sequence of four spells. The first makes you a statue, dead to the world. The second gives you back your mind, but your body is frozen and your senses are blind and numb. You reel from the disorienting void, strain within your still frame. The third binds your will to his. The struggle subsides. And the fourth animates you.

The new you stands up. You're half a head taller than before. Much stronger. Faster, too. Your skin is impervious, your bones unbreakable. And your mind is finally clear. For the first time, you know your true purpose and your heart's desire:

> OBEY LORD CHAERT
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