It is said that in the mountains of distant Verlot, there live famed Astrologer Priests, whose wisdom pilgrims journey from many miles away to receive. Among these priests, it is believed that the stars do not exist solely within the night sky, but rather are glimmering unseen everywhere the light of the sun does not touch. This means, the priests expin, that their lights and their eyes remain upon all mortals who dwell in darkness.

  If such a thing is true, then the stars surely took pity or interest upon Nessalir as she explored the duerafari ruins beneath the Vile King's barrow. Although she knew not the way, she was nonetheless able to gain her bearings and navigate to a grand chamber with high and arching walls lined with gold. It seemed to Nessalir that all the roads within this ancient city led to this singur point, and that it must therefore be the sanctum of which Durnethed spoke.

  It was a great domed chamber, and at the apex of its ceiling was a mass of crystal shining with all the crity and splendor of the midday sun. Directly beneath the crystal was a perfectly round pool, filled with inky bck water which seemed to shift and dance as though it were possessed of a will of its own. Beyond the pool was a raised ptform, upon which sat a throne of gold, and upon this throne sat the undead king Nessalir sought: Durnethed the Vile.

  His skin was gray and desiccated, and the flesh had been worn away at his joints, revealing white bones beneath. His eyes were gone, and in their pce had been set a pair of dark violet gemstones. The Vile King was dressed in robes of red, which no doubt had once been magnificent, but now they were faded and tattered with the march of time. Long and thin wisps of white hair grew from his scalp, and bck nails extended and curled from his fingers. His face was set permanently in a rictus grin.

  And at his feet, there y a boy. Oh, he had reached maturity, to be sure, but looking upon him Nessalir had no doubt that he was yet still a boy. His beard had barely begun to grow in proper, and his hair was full with the bounty of youth. He was a skinny thing, and soft in his face, and his eyes watched her and they were wide with terror. A rope had been used to secure his arms behind his back, and another was wrapped around his face, digging into his mouth to serve as a makeshift gag.

  "You have arrived!" the Vile King excimed, leaning forward as he did so. The movement was accompanied by creaks and pops as his old bones shifted beneath his withered flesh. "And it would seem the guide I sent is no more. I must confess, Nessalir the Red, I am impressed! It appears that the tales I have heard of the drakkowar were not exaggerated."

  "They were not," Nessalir assured him. "Am I correct in assuming that the boy at your feet is Prince Balof?"

  "Of course!" Durnethed decred. "It is he who awoke me from my slumber, who ventured into my tomb and tried to rob me of my heart. What he did not anticipate was the curse which bound me, pced upon me by a witch in the st days of my life. I'd sought immortality, and she had aided me in my quest, but at the st moment the bitch turned treacherous, and she turned my blessing into a bane. My life would remain bound to my heart, and my heart would be the dungeon within which my soul would be kept. But when this boy awoke me, he became the new vessel of my soul. This body of mine is old, and it shall not st much longer. But when the Bck Moon approaches, I shall abandon it, and walk the earth once more as a youth in his prime!"

  "You would cim Balof's body for your own?" Nessalir asked, horrified. She had learned in her time of many dark magicks, but never before had she encountered a rite such as this.

  Durnethed regarded her with his grinning visage. "His body is already my own," he said. "It is just that this so-called prince has yet to relinquish it. But he will, make no mistake of that."

  "I have heard enough," said Nessalir, raising her sword and pointing it at the draugr. "I challenge you now, Durnethed the Vile. Fight me, and upon your defeat, return to the rot from whence you came."

  "Defeat?" the Vile King demanded. "Never have I known defeat, girl! It was by my sword that the tribes of these nds were once united, and it is by my sword that they shall stand united once more! I had thought I might let you live, dragonblood, but such insolence must be punished! You would dare to challenge me? Then you shall now receive your wish!"

  So saying this, Durnethed rose up from his throne, and he retrieved from behind it a great sword, as long as a man. Nessalir marveled that such a husk might wield a weapon so mighty—it looked as though it had been forged for a giant! The Vile King stepped over the whimpering Balof, and he strode around the bck pool to meet Nessalir in battle.

  "When you lie bleeding upon the ground, know that it was your own arrogance that brought you there," Durnethed told her.

  Nessalir raised her sword, and she held her ax in her red cwed hand. Her tail flicked back and forth behind her, and the wound on her shoulder stung and ached. "I know my limits, dead man," she said. "Do you?"

  Durnethed's face did not change, and yet she sensed from him a surge of anger. With a roar, he charged, swinging his sword in a powerful arc with both hands.

  Rolling under the blow, Nessalir sshed out with her own sword. The Vile King was fast, and he danced nimbly out of the way, tattered red robes flowing all around him, obscuring his body from her sight. Grimacing, Nessalir leaped backward just as Durnethed brought his weapon down toward her head.

  His sword struck the stone floor, and a loud metallic cng echoed through the chamber. Nessalir rushed forward, past the bde, and swung her weapon toward his neck. Her grinning opponent stepped backward and swung his sword to the side, forcing her to call off her attack at the st instant and bring her weapons up to block his blow.

  She hooked his bde under her ax head, and held her sword against his. Pain shot through her shoulder and down her arm, and Nessalir grit her teeth and focused her strength, desperately trying to keep her foe from overpowering her.

  "You are injured, drakkowar," the Vile King mocked. "Have you truly the strength left to oppose me?"

  The pressure against her guard increased, and Nessalir could feel her weapons slipping in her hands. With no other option remaining, she reached deep into herself and drew upon her greatest, secret strength.

  Heat exploded in her core. Her lungs burned with the fury of her inhuman ancestry. Nessalir turned her face toward Durnethed the Vile, and she breathed forth a plume of fme.

  Tongues of fire enveloped him, and the draugr screamed in pain. He withdrew from her, filed wildly, and patted out the fmes that now threatened to eat away at his robes.

  "A cheap trick!" he snarled. "I will not be caught unawares, again, Nessalir the Red!"

  But Nessalir was as cunning as she was fierce, and as she fought, her mind had been piecing together a puzzle. Now all the pieces had come together, and she believed that she had discerned the Vile King's true weakness. Before he could regain his composure, she rushed forward, dropped her ax to the floor, and snatched the crown off her belt.

  "Here," she called, "I have come to return your heart!"

  And Nessalir the Red shoved the Vile King's crown into his chest. The crown's teeth pierced his flesh, and the ornament was quickly embedded into the draugr's body. He screamed in terror as he realized what she had done, and Nessalir shoved him away and bathed him in yet more dragon fire. As Durnethed tried once more to put out the fmes, she took her sword and cut him across the stomach.

  Wailing in horror and in pain, the Vile King stumbled backward and fell into the bck pool in the center of the chamber.

  The water wasted no time surging all around him. Liquid tendrils emerged from the disturbed surface and wrapped themselves around Durnethed the Vile, even as he spshed and screamed for help. Whatever existed within that pool held him firm, and Nessalir watched as the dead king was dragged into the bckness.

  Stillness settled over the pool's surface, as though its hunger had at long st been satiated.