you wake up in a coffin. taunted by the scent of falling drops of a wizard's blood. new fangs crowd your lips. flesh a hammer made of ice. leaking from the coffin with no will, only hunger. sweep aside the wizard's puny calacorm. memory and shattered will return with his blood. your adventure failed in a cryptic maze. this wizard lies dead, a withered magic sack. you live on for prey, turned. like an ever flowing drape.