Elzabeth stepped out of the darkness like slipping off a comfortable cloak, and with a single word the ruby crystal at the head of her staff erupted with light, bathing them in a blood red glow. “You were expecting my master, A'mon Sol”, she taunted standing boldly before them with no sign of fear. “Yes, he’s my master,” she continued, seeming to enjoy their surprise at her candor. “I came here in the company of heroes like you. Fools who thought we could loot his lichdom. I alone survived… and only because I swore to serve him.” She showed no hint of sorrow or regret, but cold hatred and disgust crept into her voice: “He’s ancient and evil beyond your comprehension, and I’ve done things both wicked and vile at his command. It’s the price I pay for my survival and the “Art” he has taught me. That… and things to entertain him… which I will not speak of!” For the first time some sign of emotion crossed her face… the shadow of horrors remembered. She eyed the five adventures, making one final appraisal. They had survived his minions, a feat few had accomplished. They were bloodied, but still strong. “Yes,” she thought, “they can free me of him!” “Others have come before you,” she warned as the brief lapse in her cold resolve vanished as quickly as it appeared, “many over the long centuries of his existence. But if you dare, I’ll tell you where to find him, and how to destroy him!” Then her eyes flashed with lust, “But there’s a price!” The companions stood at the ready, none of them sure what to make of the witch and her stunning announcement. They had faced foul creatures, undead and dreadful constructions, and knew she could be the deadliest test so far… but what she knew could be the difference between life and death! “We’re just supposed to trust you!” Tarl growled, even he was battle-weary, but still ready to charge. “If you want him gone and know how, why don’t you do it yourself?” Faeryl challenged, facing prejudice ever day she was more willing than the others to hear the witch out, but still just as skeptical. “He holds me under a geas to do him no harm,” Elzabeth answered coldly. “In his arrogance he failed to bar me from conspiring against him, but if I strike at him directly the spell will be triggered and I will die a slow and painful death even if I end him. If you destroy him, the spell will be broken and I will be free.” “Why not just leave?” Aeron wanted to believe her, but surely she had the chance to flee before now. “You don’t know his power,” Elzabeth shot back, the cold edge of her voice blunted with fear. “His gaze alone can wracked your body with unbearable pain, and he can haunt your dreams… twisting them into the most horrid nightmares you can imagine. I have seen, and felt, the torment he can inflict; often for no more reason than his own pleasure!” “If we believe you,” Galen inquired, eyeing her with clear skepticism, “what’s your price?”