This sonnet contains minor spoilers for the Pathfinder Society Special Ruins of Bonekeep—Level Two: Maze to the Mind Slave. If you don’t plan to play it, read on:
To face this lethal place, we took up arms; Descended ancient steps in duty's name; Cleared evil's lairs — but fell to their false charms And duty done, went on in quest of fame. Aflush with pride, we passed a closing gate, And on retreat, we saw the way was barred. Knowing our fading strength, we chose our fate, And hoped that we could win a fight grown hard. Approaching death, one final spell we cast: A storm of flame that would consume our foes And fade — we thought. Instead the flame grew vast. From that thrown spark, our smoky death arose. By grace we live again, and thus can learn: The lives we boldly risk might not return.