Oh, it will rain from the sky: fire, lightning, hail, meteors. It will bring everyone to death. No one is safe, not even my own men. Everything around me is decimated, all that remains are the corpses, both of my loyal knights and his legion of undead, and a rotting horse mounted by the evil Necromancer King Sandro. Only a power lich could resist magic like this. And then he spoke, "How foolish does one have to be to sacrifice everything? To use the loss of his own men to defeat me? There is no way his magic could ever stand a chance. He would have to be the Wisest Wizard!"
I must keep marching towards the sea, nothing is here in the mountains. I solved your riddle, where is my prize? A ring that keeps me safe from you, it's my only friend in this world. I solved your riddle, where is my prize? Where do I belong?