Once there was a powerful and wise mage.  He had mastered the elements, and garnered much power.  But it was not enough.  Through his research, he divined a new means of arcane power.  He would imprison elemental forces in a mystic sphere; the power should be unrivaled.

  The eager mage forged his crystal sphere, and set out to find the power to place within.  Atop a mountain peak, he found a Sylph dancing in the zephyrs, and bound it inside his sphere.  The wind magic now at his disposal he sent deep into the mountain caves, to dreg up an Oread, an earth sprite.  The mage threw it by its beard into his shpere.

  Having what he came for, the mage descended the mountain in one step with his dominion over earth.  He called upon his newfound power to cross the plains at the moutain's feet as easily as the winds dance across the grassy fields.  The mage rode the winds until he reached the water's edge.  There he sprinked some magic dust in the waves and uttered a few cantrips, summoning a Naiad.  The water sprite was sucked in to join its kin inside the sphere.

  Lastly, the wizard used his scrying power to find the nest of the rare Phoenix, that it's egg of myrrh could complete his elemental power.  The Phoenix was no match for the water magic now at the mage's disposal.  The fire egg was completed the power of the sphere.

  With the power of all four elements at his command, the mage set out to test the new extent of his might. He deuled many mages, and routed them all.  Warriors could not get withing a hundred feet of his compleat power.  Monks could meditate for moons and still fail to conceive the greatness that was contained within that small crystal sphere.  All the traps in the land were but child's play compared to the forces this mage had forged into a single sphere.

  The mage found he no longer had need for other arcane implements.  The sphere was more than enough power for all his needs.  The staves, books and scrolls he had used to gain the power to forge his orb were no longer needed; he discarded them.

  The mage gained a reputation for his unstoppable power, and was thus summoned one day by a noble.  This nobleman wanted the mage to use his power to rid his lands of a troublesome rogue.  Money being no object.

  All the noble's guard were unable to stop this brigand, who robbed the noble blind and made a mockery of his name.  The mage told the noble that he could simply incinerate the entire forest where the rogue hid, if he so desired.  The noble merely smiled, and told the mage that would not be necessary, delivering the head of that rogue would do to restore his honor.

  So the mage and his mighty sphere headed into the forest.  An endless maze of tangled and tulgy wood, the forest was indeed a very fine place to hide; navigation was near impossible.  The mage simply used the power of his orb to find the elusive brigand.  The winds whistled through the trees, returning to whisper to the mage, directing him to his quarry.

  When he found the rogue, he saw that this man prefered to use a bow to a soori.  It made no difference to him, none could stand before his power for long.  The earth rumbled under the feet of the archer, who deftly jumped into a nearby tree to avoid the spell.

  Undaunted, the mage let loose a fireball to smite his foe... Who vanished from the boughs of the tree.  The winds spoke again, telling the mage that the archer was now behind him.  The mage turned, to see the archer notching an arrow.  This would not do.

  The mage began to summon the full power of the sphere, uttering his cantrips and arcane words.  As he neared the end of his spell, the archer let loose his arrow, which the winds deflected from its intended target, the mage was safe... or so he thought.

  The arrow missed the mage, but it instead bounced off the crystal sphere.  When the mage finished his last cantrip, there was an eerie silence.  When the magics finally began to come from within the sphere, they flooded out in uncontrolled waves.

  The sphere exploded in an arcane ball of mystic energies.  The sprits imprisoned within flew back to their homes.  The mage was left standing, unarmed and alone, with the Archer pointing an notched arrow at him, telling him to leave his valuables and that fine silk robe behind.

  The mage tried to summon his natural magics, but without any books, staves, or his precious sphere, he was far too slow. An arrow through his hand convinced the mage that he should do as the Archer requested.

  As the mage wandered, nekkid and cold, trying to find his way out of the forest and back to civilization, a lesson dawned upon him:

  Place all your faith in any one item, regardless of its power, and you are forever weakened.