To my reviewers: Thank you all!

Disclaimer: based on BG characters and settings, all owned by Bioware.

This next story has no dead wizards in it, just a couple of Firkraag's henchmen developing some brains, but to tide you over here's one more Way to Kill a Wizard:

Death by Hubris

Edwin: "Elminster this, Elminster that. Give ME 2000 years and a pointy hat, and I'll kick his arse!"

Elminster: "Ho, noble travellers. And red-robed idiot. Well met."

Edwin: "Go away old buzzard, can't you see I'm ranting here?"

Elminster: -waves little pinky at Edwin- "Annoying gnats, just once it would be nice if I wasn't the one who had to squash them. Now, where I was I?"

Now, on to a real story, with a plot, characters, and everything:

Screw You Guys, I'm Going Home

"Kill the farmers, terrorize the peasants, don't eat the goblins ... I'm getting bored with this whole business," complained the fair-haired soldier to his darker companion.

"Ah, quit whining Falik, it's a living."

"I don't know Grancor," Falik said thoughtfully. "Firkraag's been stirring up a lot of trouble; what if some of those Radiant Heart boys come investigating?"

"Then we'll eat well, those knights are tough, but wonderfully filling," Grancor said as he clouted his friend on the back. His eyes glowed slightly red as he thought eagerly of battling a worthy opponent. He straightened when he spotted someone coming across the walkway. "Look lively, Falik, the Captain's coming."

"At ease, lads," the Captain said as he hurried along the corridor. "The master's lured some adventurers here for his games, and you're to greet them if they come this way. Tell your pack leader to prepare the standard ambush."

"Not that again," Falik moaned after the Captain had moved past them. "Why do they always want us to try that ambush, it never works. So much simpler just to shift and pounce on the enemy from the beginning."

"It is fun to play with your food," Grancor said cheerfully. He poked his head into the leader's office to let him know adventurers were coming their way.

Falik was becoming uneasy as he waited, and waited, in the small room for the promised adventurers to show up. The longer he waited, the more uncomfortable he got. When the pack had first begun working for Firkraag in the Windspear Hills' ruins; many adventurers and soldiers tried coming after him. But recently, Firkraag had increased the security in his domains. It had been over a month since any creature had made it as far as the pack territory.

"Grancor?" he asked hesitantly.

"What is it?" Grancor growled.

"I heard Firkraag found some vampires and mummies to hide in the lower levels. Along with the hobgoblins, orcs, shadows, and whatever else was already there."

"Yeah, so?"

"So, if those adventurers make it this far ... they'll have fought their way here," Falik said.

"You saying you're afraid? You a coward?" Grancor said as he bared his teeth.

Falik showed his teeth in response, and growled, daring Grancor to challenge him. When Grancor backed down, Falik continued speaking. "I'm just saying, we probably couldn't survive a fight with all the guards in the lower levels, so anyone who does may actually be ... er ... stronger than ... us."

"Don't worry," Grancor said as he leaned back against the wall and shut his eyes. "We probably won't even see those guys."

"But if we do," Falik persisted, "I don't want to fight them; I'd kind of like to see my pups grow up."

"Don't even think about deserting," his friend said as he looked around uneasily. "Firkraag would track you down and add your pelt to his treasure hoard."

"Did you hear that?" Falik asked.

"Yep, sounds like those adventurers are headed this way," Grancor answered as the sounds of battle drifted through the door. He jumped when a loud crash shook the floor. "What the hell was that!"

"I don't know, last I knew, the only guards in that hallway were some orcs and that ghost thing in the old well. There goes another crash, maybe the ceiling caved in or something," Falik said nervously.

"Shh," Grancor said as he listened. "I think I hear them coming this way."

"Alright!" he said when the door began to open. He straightened his ill-fitting armour and tousled his hair in an attempt to look harried and desperate. "It's show time," he whispered to his companion. "You! You will please help?" Grancor pleaded with the leader of the band of bloodied warriors who came into the room.

Falik looked at them askance. They were big, and very well armed. The leader, the one Grancor was talking with, sported arms like tree trunks, and carried a very large sword that kept screaming: "Kill kill kill kill KILL! Whoo hoo!" until its owner banged it against the wall a few times. Falik didn't like the looks of the other warriors either, the grey-haired paladin, the sour-looking fellow brandishing a huge hammer and sporting a symbol of Helm, the unhappy looking ranger in the back, and even the small, red-headed halfling woman looked fiercer than Falik's old woman. He was afraid the perky, harmless looking girl with the pink hair was incredibly dangerous as well.

Grancor was merrily chattering on, trying to lure the strangers into an ambush. "We are lost in this place, adventurers like you! We have been trapped here for days upon days, and need a healer's touch most immediately! Come! Come this way!"

"Why have you been left alone?" the leader said as his brow wrinkled with confusion. Falik snuck around the wall and looked down the corridor to see where the adventurers had come from. His breath caught when he saw the massive shapes that were strewn along the crosswalk.

"Grancor, hold on a minute," Falik said as he interrupted Grancor's less than convincing story of woe.

"What is it," Grancor growled, annoyed at the interruption.

"Pardon me, good sirs," Falik said to the now confused invaders. "But is that an Adamantium Golem I see lying demolished back the way you came from?"

"Oh yes," said the cheerful, pink-haired one. "This dungeon is littered with those little annoyances."

"They killed it?" Grancor said as his eyes bugged out.

"Never mind that," the leader said dismissively. "What were you saying about those wounded men of yours?"

"So you guys think you could, uh, take on a red dragon?" Falik asked.

"Certainly! They are creatures of vast evil and must be destroyed," answered the one with the priest's symbol.

"Excuse us a moment," Falik said as he pulled Grancor into a corner. They whispered together for a few moments, and then nodded as they came to an agreement.

"We humbly apologize," Falik said to the leader. "I am afraid we have been attempting to trick your noble selves into an ambush. We are terribly sorry for our actions and humbly ask that you allow us to leave this place alive. We will promise not to ever, ever work for that evil Firkraag again." He elbowed Grancor in the ribs, and Grancor mumbled his own apologies.

Falik fidgeted nervously as the imposing strangers conferred amongst themselves. He breathed a sigh of relief when the leader turned to them and said they could go.

Grancor felt obligated to inform their former leader that the ambush had failed and he knocked on the door to the ambush room. "Hey Koga," he said irreverently. "The ambush failed, Falik and I don't want to fight the adventurers, and we're heading home now."

"Treacherous curs!" shouted Koga. "We'll deal with you traitors after we destroy the foolish trespassers." He shifted shape and led the rest of the waiting soldiers to the attack.

"Werewolves!" shouted the halfling warrior as the pack attacked. Grancor ducked around the fight, and joined Falik as he trotted away from the battle.

"Do you think we should be worried about deserting?" Grancor asked his friend.

"Are you kidding?" he answered as they walked across the bodies of golems and orcs. They turned down another corridor and saw the remains of another pack of werewolves the adventurers had met earlier. "Looks like Brin's boys were all destroyed."

"Alright, things are looking up," Grancor said. He hastened to explain when Falik was perplexed by Grancor's cheerful statement. "Someone will have to break the news to Brin's poor, bereaved mate, if you get my meaning."

"Honestly Grancor, there are other things at stake here," Falik sighed.

"Yeah, namely, just what to say when we reach the home den," Grancor grinned. "We'll have to come up with a good story about our final, brave deeds in the service of the (soon to be) late Lord Firkraag."