Elzabeth stepped out of the darkness like slipping off a comfortable cloak, and without a single word the ruby crystal at the head of her staff erupted with light, bathing them all in a blood red glow. “You were expecting more of my master’s horrors,” she taunted standing boldly before them with no sign of fear as she continued, seeming to enjoy their surprise at her candor; “Yes… he’s my master. I came here from Waterdeep 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 as she went on: “He is A’mon Sol, an unspeakable powerful lich once of Netheril, 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 stunningly beautiful face; the shadow of horrors remembered. She eyed the five adventures, making one final appraisal. They’d survived his minions, a feat none before them 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’d faced foul creatures, undead and dreadful constructions, but knew she could be the deadliest test so far… yet what she knew could be the difference between life and death! “We’re just supposed to trust you,” Tarl growled, even battle-weary as he was, still ready to charge. “If you want him gone and know how, why not do it yourself?” Faeryl challenged, facing prejudice ever day she was more willing than the others to hear the witch out, but was 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. “He can hurl balls of coldfire that drain your life force, his touch can sap your strength leaving you as weak as a baby, meeting his gaze alone can wrack your body with unbearable pain, and he can haunt your dreams… twisting them into the most horrid nightmares you can imagine, all in addition to being a wizard of terrible power. I’ve seen, and felt, the torment he can inflict… often for no reason other than his own pleasure!” “If we choose to trust you,” Galen inquired, eyeing her with clear skepticism as he glance around at his companions to be sure none of them appeared to have any strong objections, “what’s your price?” ******************************************************************************************************************************************************************************* Disclaimer: Some of the material presented here may be the property of Wizards of the Coast, LLC© taken from the Dungeons & Dragons® Forgotten Realms® Campaign Setting authored by Ed Greenwood & Sean Renyolds, the Dungeons & Dragons® Forgotten Realms® Campaign Accessory Silver Marches® authored by Ed Greenwood and Jason Carl and/or other sourcebooks registered to Wizards of the Coast, LLC©. This is unofficial “Fan Content” permitted under Wizards of the Coast, LLC© Fan Content Policy, it is not approved or endorsed by Wizards of the Coast, LLC©.