                           King's Bounty Story Book 
  
                             Theft of the Scepter

                                     I
    The crypt below the ruined keep was dank and musty. Moisture congealed on
the floor, forming small puddles. A pair of grimy grave robbers braved the crypt and set about exploring the tombs.
    Caneghor the Mystic, old and bent, sifted through anceint relics buried  along with an equally aged mummy. His young and somewhat frivolous companion, Hack the Rouge, sought treasure in the tomb of an ancient warrior queen. Caneghor smiled as he turned the pages in a book and silently wished Hack luck, warrior queens were not renown for their booty.
    "Aha ! Hack come here and look at this,"chortled Caneghor. His eyes gleamed like a librarian who has found a rare and precious volume. One of the tomes floated in the air before Caneghor. He was studying it intensely, leafing through the pages with a rapidity suprising for one his age.
    Hack strutted out wearing glimmering jewelry he had just  liberated from  the warrior queen. His eyes betrayed fear as he noticed the levitating book.
"I wish you wouldn't do that around me, I hate it !" Hack paused and gave an
appraisal, "Book looks valuable...gold inlay on the leather...lemme see it !"
    As Hack reached for the floating book, Caneghor shouted fiercely, "  No!"
His eyes blaced with mystic power, "This is for the Master."

    The cave was unfathomably large as was it's chief occupant Arech Dragonbreath. Arech wondered what his henchmen wanted now. Hack the Rouge
was almost unbearable, a petty thief who acted the part of an accomplished
master criminal. Arech laughed, hot smoke streaming from his scaly nostrils, as
he thought of several bloody ways for Hack to die. Hack paled as he was bathed  in the uncomfortably warm smoke. He backed away from the immense dragon, trying
to blend in with the natural crevices of the cavern wall.
    Caneghor decided that it was time to speak, "O Arech, mightiest of dragons, most cunning of all, I bring you knowladge of unbridled power."
    Arech smiled, rows of dagger-sharp teeth glistening with saliva. Cangehor always knew how to please him. A very useful man, even though he was unambitious.
    "What do you bring me, master sage," queried Arech.
    "A book, milord. A book with a prophecy," intoned Caneghor. He straightened, "The propecy tells how Good King Maximus can be toppled from his throne and supplanted."
     "How is that, Caneghor ?" Arech's greed for power was aroused, "How can I  dethrone Maximus ?"
     "Steal the Scepter of Order," blurted the suddenly courageous Hack.
     Arech grumbled a low and distant thunder. He unfurled his wings, enclosing the two men under an umbrella of darkness. Arech slowly lowered his massive head, neck extending sinuosly until he was face to face with the humans. "Why the Scepter," he breathed.
     Caneghor and Hack were assailed by a tepid gust of sulfurous air. As Hack trembled, Caneghor spoke firmly, "For it ties him to the land, Arech. He loses the Scepter, and the Four Continents lose Order. And with out Order, Chaos shall rule."
     Arech shot a burst of flame across the cavern, scorching the farthest wall. "Excellent," he roared, "Excellent ! You both shall be rewarded."
     Hack's eyes lit up at the mention of the word reward. Caneghor merely smiled. Arech did not even notice, he was already formulating a master plan.

                                   II
     Baron Johnno Makahl streched his considerable girth across the pillows which lay strewn across the tent floor. A slave girl murmered dreamily next to  him. He contemplated her sleek back as dawn slowly approached.
     The Baron was of a once proud lineage whose mighty empire had shattered and collapsed upon itself until it was no more than a pitifully small island nation, far removed form the days of conquest and glory.
     He stared in suprise as a huge cyclops burst throught the tent flaps. The  Baron, seemingly offended by the cyclops' lack of manners, stood up with fire in his eyes.
     "How dare you," he yelled. "What do you want?"
     "We fight now," bellowed the dim-witted Bargash Eyesore. "Arech says attack castle now." He focused on the girl with his solitary, menacing eye,
"Kill !" Bargash smilled toothily as the slave cringed with fear.
      The Baron smiled, pretending not to notice the exchange. How quaint, the   one-eyed monster wanted to play with the soldiers. "Prepare the troops. I will
lead them myself. Now, leave me.

      The Baron sat mounted upon a dazzling white charger. Bargash stood next to him towering over the mounted men. Thousands of troops streched behind them, a motley crew of men and monsters.
      Raising his gauntleted hand, the Baron signalled the trumpeter to sound attack. Galloping, he led the charge down to The King's Castle, home to King  Maximus.
      At  first the battle went well. The Baron withdrew to a hill overlooking the field of battle surrounded by his entourage. His troops slaughtered the suprised garrison that met them on the field. Bargash Eyesore was especially impressive, laying waste to all about him. He pulverized friend and foe alike with his deadly spiked club.
      Then, Maximus appeared on the castle parapet. He was adorned in mirrored armor, a beacon of blazing light reflecting the mid-morning sun. He held the Scepter of Order high, so all could see it. Suddenly, pikemen rushed from the hastily opened castle gates, clearing a path for the charging cavalry and knights.
      The Baron's troops hesitiated, suprised by the ferocity of the counterattack. Within minutes, it was clear that Maximus had won the day. On his hilltop, the Baron watched in sorrow as Bargash was caputured. It was time  to flee.

      A dirt encrusted horsemen knelt before King Maximus, "My liege, Baron Makahl has been captured. We have thrown him in the dungeon next to his single visioned compatriot."
      The King grinned, "Well done. The Four Continents are safer now that he lays in captivity."

      The Baron frowned as he lay staring at the stone ceiling. The cell just would not do. Bargash snored louder than an army. Still, he contemplated, Arech would be pleased that the first stage of his plan was successful. He closed his eyes and dreamt of the riches that would be his.

                                 III
     A bearded wizard, garbed from head to toe in crimson, bent over the Tome of the Prophecy muttering to himself. Magus Deathspell could not belive it. 
He the most powerful wizard on the Four Continents, upstaged by a nobody,an old man and his bumbling petty thief of a companion. Now reduced to reaserch with the arrogant trickster Prince Barrowpine, Lord of the Elves.
     Magus wondered wht he put up with Arech's orders. Maybe he should research a way to kill the mighty dragon. Slow poison or a dry rot spell would do nicely. Magus' index finger glowed eerily with power as he anticipated the demise of his master.
     Prince Barrowpine stode regally into the room. The pair of guards escorting him remained just inside the entryway, waiting silently. The Prince spoke, "You should be studying, not daydreaming, O mighty wizard."
     Magus glared at the Prince, daring him to continue.
     "Arech will be displeased with you, most ingenious of wizards, if we do not finish translating the second part of the Prophecy," taunted the elf.
      Magus' finger glowed sun-bright and then the blinding light lanced out into two twin beams of destruction. Where the two guards stood, nothing remained but wisps of smoke, and even these faded into oblivion. A grin of satasfaction crossed Magus' face
      The Prince burst into laughter, "Really Magus, you should not go around destroying my illusions like that. I shall just have to surround myself with new ones."
      Prince Barrowpine then proceeded to reach into a pouch and removed his  fabled enchanted coin. He held it aloft and it flickered briefly like a  lighthouse beacon. The guards reappeard, silent as ever, waiting once again.
      "Enough games, Deathspell. Tell me more about the passage in the book mentioning the Demons." The Prince paused, "Are we really going to ally ourselves with a Demon? Demons unnerve me more than Arech, and Arech Dragonbreath frightens me to death."
      Magus glowered, "I like it not also, but it states clearly in this passage here, "The Good King and his symbol of Order will be replaced by an Evil King and a symbol of Chaos.'" Magus continued, "The only kings extant now are Maximus and Urthrax Killspite, the Demon King."
      "Very well." sighed the Prince, "I suppose we should inform Arech of this."

                                      IV
      It was after midnight. Furtive clouds stole quickly over the face of the moon, as if afraid to remain in any one place for too long.
      The devestated castle crested a desolate hilltop. Long moon shadows played ominously over the empty courtyards, highlighting the bleakness of the ruins. The whole countryside was dead, as were the castle's inhabitants.
      In the still functional north wing of the castle, three figures sat across from one another at a table in a dimly light room. Two were Undead, and the third gesticulated wildly over a map which lay across the table.
      "It cannot be done at night. It is not proper to conduct a battle after dusk. We have enough forces, let us attack by daylight," pleaded the lone human in the room, Auric Whiteskin.
      Auric was a bear of a man, tall, heavily muscled, and full of life. He wore his customary Whiteskin, sewn together flesh of baby lambs which he belived would protect him from disaster, disease, and other malign occurences.  He was worried, the undead do not understand the foibles of the living.
      Dressed in moldering green strips of cloth and garnished with the odor of death, Ragface, mightiest of the Undead, spoke, "At night, we have a distinct advantage. Our troops will fight better and the humans will be scared. After all, it is the Week of Demons and we wouldn't want to dissapoint thier superstitions."
      Rinaldus Drybone, the Lich Lord, crossed his arms. Bone, yellowed with age peered from the folds of his robe. His head, a human skull, gazed expressionlessly outward. The burning red embers that were his eyes floated in  otherwise empty eye sockets, scanning slowly from first Auric and then to Ragface. He spoke with a hollow voice, "There will be more death during the light than in the dark. The humans will kill more of each other if they can see
each other. We will fight during the daylight."
      Auric cursed himself softly as Ragface acquisced to Rinaldus' order. He could not belive he consigned his loyal troops to slaughter just  for the added amusement of the two undead lords. Arech's mission could have been fulfilled just as easy during nightfall. To bad honor was not a expedient to him.
      Leaning over the map once more, Auric outlined his battle plan to the two
Undead. The continent Saharia would be liberated from King Maximus' rule  quickly. Afterward, Auric, Ragface, and Rinaldus would rule jointly over what was left.

                                       V
      King's Castle was in a state of uproar. Rebels had successfully wrested control of the entire continent of Saharia from King Maximus in a matter of days. A seemingly endless stream of refugees were pouring into the castle daily, seeking saftey and shelter.
      To make matters worse, a trio of disreputable nobles from a distant land were in the castle on a matter of state. They were forever poking around, wandering into restricted areas with innocent looks on thier faces, and mercilessly running the royal stewards ragged. It seemed that the nobles felt that they had to take the king literally when he told them that they had the run of the castle until he could give them a proper audience.
      At the moment, the trio of nobles appeared to be giving the royal stewards a break, allowing them to prepare for the evenings feast.

      The Czar Nickolai, a strange and wild looking man, paced around his tower suite in a frenzy. His disheeveled appearance made him look more like a crazed conjurer or a possessed soul than a king from a foriegn land.
      His eyes, which some said revealed madness, darted back and forth across the room, glancing at everything and recognizing nothing. Nickolai's fists clenched and unclenched constantly, moving in a strange cadance with the mutterings which passed under his breath. It sounded as if he was arguing with  himself. "If it were anyhting but a demon I would have no problem. Yet they have so much power to offer. Demons bother me, nothing else does. I don't let them bother me. Demons don't care what I let them do or don't do, they do what  they want. What are you going to do ?" 
      Sir Moradon the Cruel, a knight with a rather sinister backround, took the Czar's question as a cue, "I think we should ally with this Arech Dragonbreth. He has impressed me more than this knave Maximus. Arech said he would liberate Saharia and he did. Maximus was supposed to have a conference with us more than a week ago about establishing trade between our two empires.
A man of inaction and indecision does not impress me as much as a man willing to take risks to ensure decisive action, even if it fails. I say Arech is right, he should rule the Four Continents rather than Maximus."
      Moradon neglected to mention that he was secretly promised significant trade monopolies for cooperating with Arech. He had hesitated when Arech mentioned that a demon would rule as a figurehead, but his reservations were cleared when large parcels of land were dangled before his greedy eyes.
      Princess Aimola, a rather striking if overweight woman known more for
her deceitfulness than her beauty, sat upon a great stuffed chair. Absentmindedly twirling a strand of her long,dark hair, she wondered what Sir  Moradon the Cruel had said. She also pondered the treasure hoard that Arech had
shown her. It was to be hers if she supported him with one small indiscretion.
      "But Sir Moradon, you forgot. A demon is going to rule the Four Continents. No matter how powerful this dragon Arech is, will he be able to control a demon as he would a puppet ? I think not. Yet I cannot agree that life would be much eaiser if Arech held sway in the goverment. I found his arguments very persuasive. Besides, I think it would be very thrilling to poison our unsuspecting Maximus at a public feast."
       Nickolia stopped moving and silence spread over the room like a blanket. His eyes turned to the fire andhe said, "We will side with Auric. The demon king will help us greatly as will Arech. We must act swiftly."
       Aimola and Moradon turned and stared at one another. Maybe the rumors were true, their sorcerer Lord Nickolia had cast one spell to many in his thirst for power.
       Nickolia made for the door and thrust it open. A kitchen boy, no doubt sent to notify the trio of the exact time they were expected at the feast, paled with fear at being caught evesdropping. The Czar picked up the child roughly and shut the door. Grinning savagely, he drew a long sharp dagger from a hidden sheath.
       The boy strugled fiercly, trying to make noise, trying to bite the hand that smothered his mouth, trying to live. It was to no avail. Nickolia arched the boy's head backward and ran his razor sharp dagger across the exposed throat. A fountian of coruscating blood leaped from the youth's slit arteries, spraying the walls with a multitude of tiny crimson droplets.
       Moradon smiled a simple smile of pleasure as he watched Nickolia with utter fascination. Aimola covered her face with an ever-present handkerchief as she averted her gaze. Nickolai laughed with glee as he cleaned his knife on  the back of the boy's tunic. Not a drop of blood stained his clothes.
       "Lets prepare for the feast," he commanded the Czar. "Go to your rooms and meet me as soon as you can. I shall take care of my little mess."
       After Aimola and Moradon had left, Nickolai fell to the floor trembling, "No, no, not again! I must stay in control." It was not to be. Flames leapt out  of from nowhere and danced all around him. He closed his eyes and suddered.
       A change swept over Nickolia's body. He stood up and surveyed the clompletely clean room with eyes of fire. There was no trace of the blood or the body, all that remained was a slight smell of sulfur.

                                   VI
       Magus Deathspell placed the finishing touches on his pentagram. The five pointed star was drawn in dried blood and the protective circle and runes of  protection were drawn in enchanted powder made of ground bone. He stepped backward and admired his work. Fit to enslave the Demon King, he thought. He was snapped out of his reverie abruptly.
       "Is it done, wizard ?" That was Arech, impatient and imposing, "Let us finish our buisness."
       "It is ready, Arech." Magus glared at the dragon and took a deep breath, "I should rest before I summon Urthrax Killspite, he is strong and I am to tired now to incant the spell properly. Besides, I heard that progress was made deciphering the last part of the Prophecy. I am curious."
       "Very well, Magus. I do not like having to wait, but I dislike the thought of having an uncontrolled demon in my cavern. You have three hours," declared Arech. The Wizard left and Arech flew out of the cavern entrance to do some research himself.

       Magus walked through the tunnel system to the libary. The network interlacing all of the caverns was quite elaborate. One day, he would ask Arech how this was all made and why the dragon would want such a complex.
       He entered the libary and saw Caneghor the Mystic scribing down information that Prince Barrowpine was rattling off. "What have you two found," demanded Magus.
       "In addition to the propechey," said Caneghor. "It seems that conditions must be met for the Scepter to be stolen."  
       Barrowpine continued, "No evil maybe in the castle except the evil stealing the Scepter. Once the Scepter has been stolen, we must wait. King Maximus will sicken and die soon after the theft. While he sickens, so will the land. Chaos will slowly replace Order. When the King is finaly dead, the demon will sit upon the throne.
       Magus concluded, "And with the demon on the throne, we will have accomplished all that we have strived for."
       " I just hope Arech can control the demon," said Caneghor nervously, "I  would not relish living under the rule of a freed demon."
       "There is no fear of that happening, my incantations will bind the demon  thoroughly," assured Magus. 
       Magus took his leave and went to his chambers to rest and prepare for  the evenings exertions.

       Arech returned to his chambers. The news he had recived was disheartening. He would have to arrange for his servitors to be
rescued from King's Castle. Baron Makahl and Bargash Eyesore were faithful servants and Arech knew their abilities completely. But the three new allies were another question altogether.
       Czar Nickolia, Sir Moradon, and Princess Aimola were held captive for attempting to murder Maximus. Overconfident, they had made mistakes. Before the feast had begun, an outcry was rasied, a kitchen boy was missing. Maximus and the revelers left the table to search for the lad. The three panicked and began preparations to leave.
       When the youth did not turn up after many hours, the search was called  off until morning. The food for the feast had been left untouched and Maximus had given it to his servants. The one eating Maximus' portion had died from poisoning.
       Conspicuous by their absence, the three were brought before the King. Poison had been found in Aimola's belongings, which were packed neatly away for a midnight journey. Furious, the King jailed the three and set their execution for the first day of the Week of the Peasent.
       Arech wondered if he could trust such a trio to serve him. However, it did not matter. They had to be removed from the castle along with the rest. Arech rumbled and exhaled smoke, a dragon's laughter. He knew just the pair to free them all from Maximus. Now, on to the conjuration.

                                VII 
       The two pirate ships cruised silently over the ocean waters. They were sailing blind at night, sneaking up on the King's Castle with only the light of the quarter moon to guide them.
       The Dread Pirate Rob stood alone at the prow of the flagship, inhaling deeply of the sea air. Nothing thrilled him more than the sea and sailing. And fighting.
       Rob was a small man, but lithe and swift. He fought with a rapier to make the most of the small advantages he possesed. It was enough to make him the scourge of the seas. It was enough to have Arech Dragonbreath pay him an  exorbitant sum to rescue his five servants.

       On the second ship, a hesitant knock woke Mahk Bellowspeak from is well deserved rest. Mahk lived up to his name and bellowed, "It had better be good for you to wake me. You know I get cranky when I  don't get enough sleep."
       A voice quivering with fear answered, "The Dread Pirate Rob signalled  us, sir. We have arrived."
       A  slow smirk passed across Mahk's green face. The cabin boy would live, it was time to fight! Mahk  dressed quickly, picking up clothes off the floor of his cabin haphazardly. With care, he took his mighty two-handed sword from its protective coverings. It shined brightly in the dim lamplight.
       Mahk left the cabin and waited.

       Murray, sometimes called The Miser, feigned sleep inside the castle walls. He "slept" next to the gate mechanism for King's Castle. At the appointed time, he was to open the gate and allow a band of pirates to swarm the castle, freeing those political prisoners.
       Murray got up and streched, the time was near. His aged bones cracked and ached when he got up. He scratched his balding head and rubbed his bearded jaw. It was getting hardeer and harder to wake up. He heard something.

       The two groups of pirates, one led by Rob and the other by Mahk, waited  at the castle gate. Rob gave the signal which was supposed to open the gate. He waited. The troops bristled with adrenaline, anticipating the upcoming battle.
       Slowly the gate rasied. Before it was halfway up, both groups were in the castle.
     
       Maximus woke to the sounds of battle. He had thought he was dreaming of the days when he, as a warrior king, had united the Four Continents. Not today.
       He rushed to his tower window. A group of men crossed the courtyard furtively. A small, thin man seemed to be leading five manacled fiqures away from the dungeons.
       Maximus shouted, drawing attention to the second group of intruders. More guards rushed foward reinforcements alerted by the alarm that was sounding.
       A second group fought noisily on the castle walls. His guards were holding thier own, except against one brute of a fellow who turned them into  mincemeat with his giant sword.
       Dread Pirate Rob laughed gleefully. It had been horrendously easy. Walk  in, free the prisoners, and walk out. Mahk had done his job excellently, drawing all of the attention away from Rob, killing the guards who would cut off Rob's retreat.
       All that remained now was to return the five convicts to Arech. Rob laughed again, exulting in the sea breeze whipping across his face. They were asleep below decks and his and Mahk's ship were sailiung quickly away, with no pursuit in sight. Arech would reward him well. 
                                 VIII
     Magus stood in the center of the cavern dressed in his finest red robes with his arms upraised. His brow was furrowed in concentration which threatened to break as a single, warm bead of sweat slowly traced a cold, wet path down his forearm to his biceps and finally to his sweat drenched chest.
     The incantation was harder than he thought. He realized that summoning Urthrax Killspite, the Demon King, was near impossible task. But the fight the demon put up ! He either really did not want to be summoned or he was testing Magus to see if he was worth anything but a slow, lingering death.
     Minor demons fluttered distractingly around, attracted by the strong magic Magus was working and no doubt sent by Urthrax to disturb the wizard. Magus shut them out, they could not enter his protective circle anyway. No harm could be perpetrated.
     A wave of joy and terror flushed violently through Magus now trembling body. Urhrax had come ! Sulfurous vapors swirled madly in the center of the  pentagram. A ring of towering flames flard up inside the protective circle of the pentagram.
     The cavern turned totaly black. Slowly, from the center of the pentagram, a firey light shone. Urhrax Killspite had come.
     He was huge and terrifying. His skin was bright green and had a scaly texture. His arms were long and heavily muscled with cruel, sharp nails extending inches beyond the ends of his powerful fingers. His massive torso was  topped by a ghastly head. Thick, green horns protruded from the side of his head. The features of his face were blunt and ugly. His manner reeked of death, command, and power.
     When Urthrax spoke, his deep voice seemed to echo from the vastness of his chest, "I am here. I know your plans. I will be your king, but conditions have to be met first. Where is your leader, the dragon ?"
     Arech stepped foward from the perimeter of the cave, forgotten in  the excitement of the conjuration. "I am Arech. Let us set the terms so that we may  act quickly."
     Magus, near total exhaustion, sighed. It was going to be a long night.

                                     IX
     King Maximus rapped the table loudly with the Sceptre of Order, silencing his many arguing counselors. He spoke, "We need help. The rebels are well organized and have put us at their mercy. Their early attack failed because they wanted it to. They led a succesful rebellion in Saharia. They subverted foreigen emissaries, who sit in my dungeons right now awaiting execution, to  their cause, convincing them that they would prevail against me. What will they do next ?"
     His advisors debated for many hours, unable to come to a conclusion. The session adjourned until the morning, vainly hoping that sleep would bring a new light to the situation. Maximus kept a grim determination though. He knew that  as long as he, the king, held the Sceptre, Chaos could not come to the Four Continents.

     Arech and Urthrax bargained well in to the next day. They both made sure that there would be no problems. Each felt that they had the upper hand.
     Later, plans were finalized for the theft of the Sceptre. Urthrax would lead Arech in to his domain. From his home, Urhrax would open a dimension gate allowing Arech to appear next to Maximus and the Sceptre, but only for a matter of moments. Arech would have to secure the Sceptre in his grasp to be sure that  when he was sucked back to Urhrax's domain the Sceptre would travel with him. Contrary magics often held a negitive effect for one another.
     Arech was nervous. All his work and that of his minons led up to this point. It all depended on him. There was not even a chance of treachery from Urthrax, blood oaths were signed between them. What if he failed ?
     Arech searched and found Urthrax, who was deep in conversation with Rinaldus Drybone and Ragface. "It is time, Urthrax."
     "Then let us go."

     Maximus could not belive that his advisors were so helpless. The meeting was utter chaos, nothing was being accomplished. His subjects needed help, his   enemies needed to be stopped.
     Maximus stood, Sceptre of Order clenched firmly in his hand. The room quieted. His advisors attention fixated on the King.
     "We know that the Dragon Arech Dragonbreath leads our opposition." Maximus  continued, "We know were he is. It is a time to end counsel. It is time for action."
     He raised the Sceptre over his head, "We will lead an army now. We will crush him once and for all."
     Suddenly his advisors gasped collectivly. Behind Maximus a large, rectangular void had appeared. A scaly head protruded from the void, a dragon head.
     Maximus, sensing that something was wrong, began to turn. He instinctly drew the Sceptre to is body while he moved but, it was to late. An immense claw pried the Sceptre of Order from his grip and withdrew into the void.
     Looking into the void Maximus could see the dragon who had just stolen his  precious Sceptre. Beside the dragon was a fierce looking demon who guffawed wildly. Flames surrounded the pair, licking them but not burning. The void closed. Maximus was frozen in place. His advisors stared at him, hoping that what they had just seen had not happened. Maximus collapsed and their fears were realized.

                                  X
     Months had passed since the theft of the Sceptre. The Four Continents were falling into ruin. All the many castles which crossed the land were inhabited by one of Arech's henchmen or a horde of monsters. The last remaining outpost of Order was the King's Castle, where some trace of the Sceptre's location was eagerly being sought after.
     Maximus was dying. All Arech wanted now was his death and it seemed as if Maximus was going to give him that too. Arech was patiently waiting for the day Urthrax Killspite would sit upon the throne and Chaos would rule supreme.  
     Maximus smiled, a last glimmer of hope. He had a suprise for Arech and Urthrax. A hero was on his side. Recently returned from a conquest of a ferocious, evil dungeon, the hero agreed to raise armies and recover the  Sceptre from Arech. Maximus would cling as long as he could to life. The hero was the only chance for his people and his land, to remain pure and the hero only had until the time Maximus died to recover the Sceptre.

     A seed of worry bloomed in Arech's mind. Resting comfortably within his newly acquired castle, Arech listened to Magus' report with distress.
     They were sending a mighty hero after him to recover the Sceptre. Damn heros anyway, they were always seemed able to do the impossible. But not this  time, thought Arech, not with me. I will make it truly impossible.
     Arech put his plan into action. He buried the Sceptre in a secret location and then fragmented the map into 25 pieces. He and his followers each kept a piece of the map and he placed the remaining 8 artifacts of power which he could not use.
     Let them find the Sceptre now. I will rule. Chaos will prevail.


                                 
