Traveling though the twisting corridors which were once confusing were now familiar. Dragging the generator crystal along, they finally found light in the dark, knowing that the exit was near. The two pulled back their heads as far as they could, peering up to the land above. Once they returned the crystal, Cairon would be a sanctuary from the Guard. Checking the security of the rope with a strong pull, Drivir tied the crystal to the end and slowly ascended. Eldrian followed only after knowing the climb was a safe one. After struggling to the surface, the wizard collapsed from exhaustion. Turning to the dwarf, wishing to tell him to pull up the crystal, his command was halted by the warrior's blank expression. The small amount of skin that showed through with helm and beard was a sickly white, and his eyes shimmered lifelessly. The mage turned to see what could cause such emotion in a dwarf.

The town was decimated. Nothing was left standing. Smoulders of buildings and corpses rest amoung ashes and smoke. The sky was black, yet the ground looked bleaker. Staring in utter disbelief, he knew not what to say about the destruction.
"The Silver Guard did this, didn't they?", at last he spoke.
"Ay," replied the armor clad one, "and they won't stop here, either."
"Will they be back?" Drivir took time before answering.
"They can't have us wander free while we have a Crystal. They'll search for us soon enough." Eldrian looked at the path they had come to Cairon from. "The Silver Guard's stronghold is over there. The further we get from it, the better." Drivir lifted the large generator into his backpack and started on his way.

Long down the path they traveled, when they saw an object in the distance. Too large to be a person, but too small to be a house. Drawing nearer, they noticed its true identity. It was a wagon, lazily set at the side of the path. A lone man, with unkempt garb and shave, leaned against his vehicle. His eyes were small and piercing, like two black pearls beset in human head, and his beard a long, white tangled mess. He half heartily raised a dark eye as the two cautiously passed.
"Hail, travelers," greeted the stranger. "I couldn't help noticing your apparrell. Would it be wrong of me to assume that you are adventurers?" They stopped dead. The man gave out a slight chuckle. "By your reaction, I reckon you are." He went on, "There is a kingdom north of here. Once sometime ago, the kind and benevolent ruler was slain by his partner, and forced all of his blood from the kingdom. For years now, he has ruled in tyranny, executing those who oppose him that do not flee. I was fortunate enough to escape him, but many others will not have that oppritunity.
"I am willing to hire you two to overthrow this evil. I am willing to pay you each twenty-five gold a piece to assassinate the new king." He stopped and awaited an answer.
"Assassinate?" Eldrian stammered. The man waved his hand, not caring for the words.
"Assassinate, get rid of, banish, whatever you can do," he changed his demand. Just before Eldrian could reply, Drivir spoke.
"We're busy. Fifty gold each." The man and Eldrian both were starttled by the dwarf. With a heavy breath, the man accepted.
"I shall give you each half upfront to keep you to your word. Go now. I know a day will come for my people to be free, and I wish that day to be soon." With an agreeing nod, they continued down their path.

The looming battlements broke the horizon as the adventurers neared the castle. Its walls were high and had a dreary sense of forboding surrounding them. They approached the gate, when a band of men came from out their hiding. The band was seemingly assembled of peasants, each in tattered clothing and make shift weapons. One stood in the further ranks with a gleaming claymore clasped firmly in his hands.
"What say you? Friends of the kingdom or enemies to its people?" the leader inquired. Eldrian, not wishing a battle, answered before Drivir had a chance to worsen the situation.
"We are here to help free the people by removing the king." The man sheathed his blade ran to the mage, shaking his hands.
"Thank the gods!" he exclaimed joyously. Stepping back, he took a bow and explained. "I am none other than Emmeron, the rightful ruler of this kingdom. My father is dead, and this tyrant has taken over. I now seek aid in overthrowing him. Already, I have assembled a small number-"
"We've heard it," interrupted the fighter, "and sure we'll help you." A devious smile formed beneath his thick beard. It'll be less work for us at the same pay, thought he.
"Well then, we need a plan," said Emmeron. "The cover of darkness will best suit our desires. We have some time to draw up our infiltration before then."

The sun disappeared and the stars broke through the pitch of the night sky. Eldrian and Drivir sneaked past the back of the kingdom to a lesser know entrance with fewer guards than the main gate as Emmeron's followers scaled the walls. They waited for sometime as they were instructed to do. They wound their way along the wall to the two soldiers that stood watch. With a simple gesture, the guards fell into a deep slumber. Closer Drivir crept to the door, and he began to raise the gate. Peering into the empty void, he beckoned Eldrian silently. They stole into the city, slowly making their way into the town square where they were supposed to randeavour. Just then a light blazed over them. Enveloping from all sides where guards with weapons ready. Some soldiers at a safe distance from the battle front restrained and unconcious Emmeron as well as all of his followers. The soldiers lept at Eldrian and Drivir as they fought their best, but it was no use. The two were wrestled to the ground.

The morning sun blazed into Drivir's eyes. He was still unaccustomed to the light of day. In this temporary blindness, Drivir could smell the grime and taste the stale air. Rubbing his eyes thouroughly, he opened them part way to find Eldrian staring out a small barred window. Squinting around perceiving all that he could, he only found cold granite surrounding him. One wall was a cold iron barred gate.
"Prison," simply stated the dwarf. Eldrian only acknowledged this with a nod. He continued gazing out the small window. "What's out there?"
"The gallows," answered he. "They are going to hang Emmeron at noon."
"We have got to stop this," said Drivir. "To collect the rest of our pay," he was quick to add. He sat at his bench, releasing a heavy sigh.
"Keep it down," complained a weak voice. "I'm trying to get some sleep over here." Drivir turned to the wall and squinted into a small crack.
"Who are you?" asked he.
"A prisnor, just like you," he responded. "I was thrown here for opposing the king."
"I as well," related the dwarf. "How exactly did this new king get into power?"
"At a time," the steadily sleepier voice narrated, "two men ruled this kingdom, but one grew envious of the other. He tried to murder his partner. This failed." The captive paused for a yawn and then resumed. "The traitor was put to death."
"If they were equal powers at the head of this kingdom," interrupted Eldrian, "then why was one envious of the other?" Only slight snores muffled by the wall answered him. Everything else gradually fell into silence. Each man remained in the cell, pondering a way to escape it. Then, the magician slowly walked to the gate and looked down each way of the corridor.
"Unfortunate that they never knew about this." He carved arcane runes into the air before him, summoning a blazing spark that traveled through the lock. It blew into pieces as the gate swung wide. They departed quickly, wishing to exit the dungeon as fast as possible. Suddenly, Eldrian stopped the fighter. "We're fogetting something," told he. Returning and searching the dreary halls, they found Emmeron's cell and freed him as well.
"Follow me," Emmeron told, "I know where the throne room, but first, we must go to the store room to regain our armory."

Dodging all patrollers, they made it to the throne room with ease. However, it was well protected. Five guards all in chain stood watch. They had no choice but to fight their way through. Screaming a raging battle cry, all three charged the guards. Caught in surprise, the soldiers were slow to arms. Drivir took down two in one swath of his flail. With his shining claymore, Emmeron hacked at the general, cleaving the rings in his mail and biting deep into the flesh. Blood splattered across the floor, breaking the remaining two as they fled. Not wishing for them to warn other more couragous soldiers, Eldrian halted them with a simple command and foreign gesture. The two stopped in midflight, retaining their running poise futily in stance. They turned their attention to the door. With a mighty blow, Drivir smote it with flail. Splinters flew every which way as he continued pommeling the door to null.

The throne room was majestic in both decore and size. A royal velvet carpet stretch from entrance to the looming throne, solitary in the center of the room. There sits the ill received king. He sits almost as though not concerning himself with the intruders as his eyes heavy black rings stare blanky at them. He is donned in a wrought iron banded armor with a long sword at side. At last the tyrant rises, swinging off his cape.
"Emmeron the Second comes at long last," he addresses. "You are as much a fool as your father. I shall not let you have the kingdom either." The youth only cracked a faint grin at this.
"I have some help though," replied he. The grin grew into a devious smile. Almost simutaneously, the two collided, sword clashing sword. Each pressed his own strength against his enemy. Neither seemed to be gaining any advantage until Eldrian began some arcane spake. Shaping the air with his hands, he formed a glowing, green orb which shot at the tyrant like a stone from sling, entirely unerring at its mark. He fell back and met another blow from Emmeron. The wound glanced off his bands, but he felt its force nontheless. Swinging his sword wildly, he found Emmeron's armor but never broke his skin. Drivir screamed from behind as he drove his war flail into the tyrant's unsuspecting back. Forward he stumbled. Halfturning his face, he gripped his long sword and assailed the fighter. Drivir deflected the sword's swings as best he could with his flail's handle, but this proved a lacking defense. Many times, the blade found both armor and flesh. Pressed to a wall, Drivir bent his knee and lept forward. With a maddening cry, a spike protruded forth from the apparatus on his leg. Straight into the king's chest it sunk. He fell to his back. Then the prince approached the freshly fallen body.
"You're father's work has been done, it seems," the maimed man managed to murmur.
"Indeed it is," said Emmeron, retaining his slighly joyous fancy. The heir raised his claymore high. Straight into the tyrant's black heart, the claymore passed both armor and flesh. Turning from the corpse, he spoke to the two. "Your aid has been most appreciated. You may stay in my kingdom for some time, but I fret that my people are indifferent with the Silver Guard, so you must make the stop a short one. My servants will make proper arrangements at the local taver for you. Now, if you'd excuse me." He tore the blade from the deceased's chest and the crown from his brow. He then departed from his throne.

Traveling to their rest for the eve, the dwarf and the mage entered the tavern. Drivir was quick to find his place at the bar. Eldrian stood in the entry way, examining the atmoshere. It was a dank place. The Sun seemed to shun such surroundings, and no one could blame her. All of the inhabitants wore long faces as they drank from their tankards.
"Gimme your stongest ale, lad," Drivir ordered, throwing some silver onto the counter. The barkeep quit from his polishing for a few seconds, looking at first the coins and then the warrior.
"You can't be serious," he responded.
"What is this you say?" asked the dwarf. "Was this not enough?" Desperate for a drink, Drivir reached to take more from his pouch.
"No silver you have is worth what would happen to me for selling you and ale," laughed the barkeep. "I would be killed for selling spirituous beverage in this kingdom. The king forbids it in fear of revolt," he explained. "Order something legal."
"'Tis no longer true," interjected Eldrian, finding a stool. "The old tyrant is dead, and Emmeron has returned to you."
"Emmeron? I though he was dead," stated he. "No, it is his son you speak of. Feh, he is no different from the last tyrant or his father." Eldrian thought hard about this.
"Was not his father a good man?"
"Nay," answered the barkeep, "the trecherous ruler received what he deserved. It serves him right for turning against his own partner."
"He was the one that turned?" Drivir queried. "But why would that old man tell us otherwise?"
"He may be working with Emmeron, he may have some vendete against the previous tyrant," said Eldrian. "Let us find him, if he and his wagon are still there." Drivir had no objection to this, for he still wanted the rest of his pay.

Backtracking the path they took from Cairon, they risked being caught by the Guard to get answers. They traveled for quite some time without success. Wearied from this constant movement, Eldrian took rest upon a small rock at the side of the road.
"I could swear that it was here that we met him," Eldrian whispered to himself.
"He's moved on, lad," Drivir brothe heavily. "We won't be seeing him or the gold." Eldrian turned to respond, but then was entranced looking at him. The dwarf grew puzzled. "What is of the matter?"
"What is it you sit on?" Eldrian hastily asked. Drivir looked below him, assuring himself that he was unmistakenly on a rock.
"Just a rock," he replied. Drivir looked at Eldrian with curious eyes. "Is something of the matter?" Eldrian came over and pushed the warrior aside. He ran his fingers across the surface of the stone. He traces small etchings in the stone with his fingertips.
"A grave," blankly said the magician.
"To whom?" Eldrian was fully capable of reading it, but he had difficutly finding way to state it.
"Emmeron." This baffled the dwarf even more so. "We must make our way back to the kingdom. Only Emmeron the Second can give us the answers." Again, they travel down the path again.

The same familiar battlements break the horizon that they had seen the day before. They approached the gates once again, and the guards did nothing to stop them from reentering. Soldiers seemed not to acknowledge their approach as they walked into the castle gates. Through the halls, they found their way to the throne room swiftly. Once there, the door opened slowly to reveal Emmeron sitting on the his thrown with ill-gotten crown on his brown. Two loyal servants stood ready at his sides, one bound in ornamental robes and foreign garb, the other dressed in vest and peasants' wear, but his amulet was nothing a commoner could afford. Emmeron cracks a grin, as though pleased with your arrival.
"My two allies," with false affection and unmeant open arms claimed he, "welcome back to my domain. I've been expecting you." He descended from his high seat and and gracefully strode closer to the two. "I figured that you would have wisened up to me," explained he. "I knew you would also try to stop me. It's the good in you, or the desire of revenge. In either case, you came here for a fight," he said and turned with a face full of a calm madness, "and a fight you will have."
"Call your guards! You underestimate them," a faint voice declared. Suddenly, a form appeared to the flank of the room. It was an elderly man, but draped in royal garment. Eldrian studied the long, grey beard and deep, dark eyes.
"The man at the road side," Eldrian whispered, barely audible.
"Silence, sirrah! You are no longer king," retorted Emmeron.
"I made you what you are. Obey me, or all will be for naught. Do not dare challenge them. You know not-"
"Impudent old fool," interupted he. "Did you actually think I would be so easy to manipulate?" He broke into a maniacal fit. "I used you, father. You should have known your own son better. I now have all the power you sought. If I wish, I can dispose of you as you are of no further use to me."
"Son, listen to-" the first Emmeron attempted to say.
"And," breaks in the second, "I wish." Throwing back his arm, he snapped his fingers. The servant of his dressed in robe pushes it aside, revealing a coat of mail. Reaching to a pouch located on the aft of his belt, he pulls out a crucifix. Passing a mystic utterance from his lips, the phantom falls to the ground growing even more translucent. "The Crystal you sought is now mine," he told his father, "and so will be victory." He brandished a small red jewel in his hand. It glew an eerie aura of flame red. He cried out, thrusting it infront of him.

Eldrian and Drivir cowered, pulling back from the new tyrant. They waited. Nothing happened. Drivir peeked from above his arm still to find Emmeron standing with the gem forward.
"Why is it not working," he muttered. He growled to his servant, "Zyne, Avero, destroy these fools." He unsheathed his claymore and joined his allies' rank.

They took off into battle. Eldrian ran toward Avero as he lifted his arm. A glow took shape upon his form. A mage, Eldrian thought. He then prepared a spell to counter his. He twirled his arm, summoning energies that hung in the air. Concentrating them into a small, green sphere, he threw it straight past Avero's unearthly defense. It struck the wizard hard, felling him to the cold ground. Drivir slammed his war flail into Zyne. He stumbled forward with a break in his mail. He slowly moved his hand over the bloodied area with a gentle glow, repairing the flesh. Emmeron remained behind, watching the battle. As it raged on, Avero flung a blizzard of dirkes at Eldrian. He evaded by throwing up a barrier, halting the daggers in midflight. Eldrian then sallied, pommeling Avero with his staff.

Drivir dropped his guard a slight while watching the wizard's combat, allowing Zyne to strike him with his bludgeon. Back he flew, his armor sparking while sliding against the floor stone. With a hateful growl, he stood again with a furious insanity focused into a full on charge. With one blow, he knocked him down. Believing this foe gone, he turned his attention to Avero. He smote the wizard in the middle of a charm. Blood splattered from the impact as his corpse fell lifeless. Eldrian drew his staff and struck Zyne, who had regained consciousness.

Only Emmeron stood. His naked blade remain ready. With a turn of his foot, he lunged forward, assulting both in one swath. Each was forced back. Finding his footing once more, Drivir charged the prince, only catching his cape. Emmeron turned with his sword, finding Drivir's unsuspecting back and casting him down. Eldrian attempted to surprise Emmeron, but his staff seemed futile against his coat of scales. With a quick pivot, he once again assailed with claymore, but this time drawing no blood. Eldrian dodged again and again, retreating from his every blow. Eventually, Eldrian was pressed to the wall with no escape visible. Emmeron's lips curled as he raised his weapon high. With a crash, he fell forward. Eldrian rolled out of his plummet as he collapsed to the floor. He lie looking upward in the dwarf's shadow, holding his flail down.

Emmeron grew more volatile yet. Taking up his blade once more, he swung at Drivir. He rose his flail to counter. Each applied more and more strength until Eldrian grasped Emmeron's mail. With a short chant, a blinding energy traveled from his hands through the prince. The lightning ran through Emmeron until he fell from weakness.
"No...." whispered Emmerson.
"yes...." spoke another. It was his father, barely in corporeal existence. "I warned you to beware. O, I am ashamed of you, child."
"I," he pauses half in pain, half choking on blood, "I can still fight." The broken tyrant attempted to stand once more.
"No you cannot," said the spectre. The apparation pounced at he, causing his offspring to writhe in pain. He spun with a maddening cry as his eyes grew more and more distant. The more the phantom attacked, the less his form became. Emmeron the First soon faded away, but left behind Emmeron, as cold as death.

Drivir topped of a tankard of sweet mead, taking his time with a heavy breath of satisfaction.
"So, Emmeron's partner was once part of the Obsidian Rule, ay?" the dwarf queried the barkeep.
"That he was," he answered, "but just a minor part. 'Tis why this kingdom is indifferent with the Guard, and why you won't be able to stay for much longer." Eldrian took a long draught of fine wine. He didn't diverge himself into the conversation. He was busying himself with pondering. He couldn't understand why Emmeron had gone mad. Out of this kingdom's three rulers, he seemed to be the lesser evil. Curiouser yet, was why the crystal lie in this kingdom instead of with the guard. He dwelled not on these thoughts for long, as he knew soon they would be lost in a fremented flood.