“Ram!” I cried out. A warning I knew already to be too late.

The world seemed to still as the bladed tail of the metal drake sheared through the dwarf. The top half of his body squelched as it fell, entrails and blood pooled around. Little round pieces of the finely crafted ringmail chimed as they hit the ground and rolled away. The shock paused me just a moment before the anger took hold. With a desperate cry, I unleashed one of my most powerful spells.

“[High Tempest!]” I cried, my voice broke.

Wind whipped through the grand hall and burst around the enormous grey columns that lined the platform in the middle of the room. Giant, heavy chains attached between the columns like a spider’s web rattled and shook. The tar pits on either side began to swell with waves in a splatter. In the ceiling above clouds formed. They blocked the mural of an ancient city. Lightning flashed.

Nika, the [Paladin], shouted something, but her words were lost in the wind. From the corner of my eye, I saw her armored figure kneel down behind her shield. Erik, our rogue, dove behind her. But my attention was not on them. No, it was on the fourth-tier [Metal Drake] that clung fiercely to one of the huge iron chains and roared back at me. With a tilt of my staff, I pointed towards the monster, focused it as the target of my spellcraft. In that instant, lightning struck. One bolt. Followed by the second. Three, four, and five struck all at once. The arcs of lightning pummeled the drake and then jumped back and forth along the chain it latched onto. Its roar shifted from one of challenge and anger to a shriek of pain, but I didn’t care. My anger was absolute.

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Ram, my oldest friend. As a half-elf that meant a lot. Together, we drank, we laughed, we adventured, we lived. We lived while the humans around us became frail with age. This dungeon, one we’ve finished before, was to be the last for a while. He’d had two classes, [Berserker] and [Armorsmith]. His son, Little Ram, recently started to walk and talk, and he needed to be there. ‘A few more gold for the coffers and a few more levels for the vitality’ we agreed before we set out. I snarled. What good was gold and levels to the dead? Damn this adventure. Damn this dungeon. Damn this drake!

With a cry, I unleashed it all. The [Tempest] spell should have lasted an afternoon’s worth of time unleashing bolts of lightning and cyclones of wind every few minutes, but I forced mana through its framework. For the price of half its power, I made it strike all at once. Chains swung and snapped, no longer able to hold against the forces of wind. Metal links and bolts flew through the air. Tar, hot and sticky, climbed funnels of wind that lashed out in a spray of sizzling drops. Cracks formed in the columns and the room itself shook. The drake fell to the ground, its burnt wings spread in a parody of flight until it landed on its side. The clanging thump could just barely be heard over the sound of the wind.

I watched as it raised its head and stared at me with its draconian eyes. The shiny metal of its scales reflected the storm above as if a mirror. I took one hand from my staff and reached forward as if to grasp the monster. Its own claws stretched and dug into the stone platform as if it intended to crawl its way to me. I squeezed that outstretched hand into a fist and watched as the final force of my tempest spell landed on the beast.

I ignored the messages I received that told me of its defeat. I ignored the crackling sounds of pillars as they broke. I ignored the noxious plumes from burning tar. I ignored the smoking and steaming remains of the foe. My eyes now were only on the body of my friend. Inside, I felt only numbness and shock.