The most terrible consequence to me was the impotence of it all. I knew had to accept this outcome, but knowing this I still could not understand why; though ever yet it was certain. A bitter pill to swallow indeed was defeat. I tried to assuage this conclusion; even appeal to whatever higher powers might be listening; but nothing made any difference. A life that had been lived in so much hope; now to end only in humiliating defeat while the victor laughs at my end was a truly terrible proposition to accept. I knew I could never accept the finality of this end; being bested by my bitter adversary, so I did nothing and the spear prevailed and passed though my hauberk*
*A long, often sleeveless, tunic made of chain mail. It was originally intended as protection just for the neck and shoulders but it developed into a longer tunic in the 12th and 13th centuries.
As it did so the sword flew from my hand at the incantation from the loremaster and I was finally outdone. The terrible power of the spell threw me to the ground. There I lay like some ant in the dirt and before sight and sound left me I saw the tip of his spear rise above me before he thrust it down hard into my side. The force of the blow and dark magic were united in the hate of the loremaster. I could never remember such a pain and this increased when I saw the look of faith in his face as he withdrew the spear roughly. For a moment I questioned how I could ever prevail against such a determined foe who believed so absolutely in the rightness of his cause; a cause that to the wise was now only deserved of cruel tyrants of old. This foe wished death on all who did not follow his belief or welcomed his own glorious death in the pursuit of his goals as equally acceptable.
The war spears of the Kabalust are designed with back facing barbs and as the tip tore out I knew it had done more damage leaving me than entering. Already the poison was working and the face of the loremaster dimmed save the one last memory of his smile as he raised the spear to strike at my heart. Such is the way of the Kabalust to enjoy the kill by disabling the victim first so that he might know he had been slain to the greater purposes of the dark lord. Of all things strangest then to my companions was that a great bear should appear; seize the loremaster by the neck and fling him roughly aside. There he lay with his neck broken, no more the emissary of hate, only some small goblin loremaster bereft of dark power; broken and battered and now lost to the ages despite all his beliefs.