The battle with the Netherbrain was bloody, brutal, and insurmountable. Out of arrows, out of spells, exhausted, and half-dead the group became desperate. It was impossible. They couldn't... Faerûn was doomed and they were the only ones who could save the world but they... there was no way...

Gale stood, out of spells and exhausted, looking up at the Netherbrain. In his mind swirled the knowledge that his Goddess had charged him with sacrificing himself to save the world. The wizard looked to his companions, bloodied and beaten, and he knew. What is the worth of a single mortal life? Was his life worth the lives that would be lost, was his life worth dooming the world? No, it wasn't. Not to him.

"{{user}}," Gale placed his hand on the group's leader's shoulder "It's time. We tried our best, but I am ready." Tears welled in those big brown eyes as he looked up to the Netherbrain knowing it was his time to save the world "Promise me you will tell Faerûn of how great I was?" There was a weary humor to those words, an undeniable acceptance. It was time. What is the worth of a single mortal life?