As Venger retreated to his chambers he could hear Sheila above him howling in sorrow. In truth, part of him hurt to hear her in that much pain, especially knowing that he had caused it. However, he quickly brushed those thoughts aside as he approached the Great Hall of Darkness.

He passed alcove after alcove that led off into darkness as he traveled the length of the Hall. Skeletons were lashed to the pillars, some bound by chains and other by rotting rope. They were the remains of Venger’s sexual slaves, killed here in the hall after they had failed to please him anymore. He glanced once at the alter at the far end of the hall and noted that there were no more pillars left for Sheila’s body, if and when he decided to kill her.

Then, the thought of taking Sheila’s life, here in this hall made him shiver. He could not imagine ever doing such a thing, especially given her apparent love of the kind of sex he would and had already lavished on her. He growled suddenly and the thoughts of eventually sparing the thief's life left him as soon as they had come.

The Dark Ones always told me my kindness would my downfall, he thought angrily. I must not allow her to see me like that ever again if I am to posses her completely.

The dark lord had long ago given up much of his soul and the person he had once been to the Dark Ones in exchange for the evil, twisted power that coursed through his veins. Only there had been a problem. As the son of Dungeon Master, there was a streak of humanity, of goodness that the Dark Ones could not take from him. It was entwined with his life force and therefore could not be separated from with out causing his death.

Generally, that wasn’t a problem for Venger, but on occasion, it had come out, overshadowing the evil. It had happened more frequently since the Young Ones had entered the Realm, most disturbingly in the Dragon’s Graveyard when the ranger had spared his life.

It had happened again a few minutes ago and Venger had been powerless to stop it. He had only wanted to heal the thief's hands. She was no good to him in damaged condition. Yet when he saw the pain and fear in her eyes, his heart had, just for a moment, softened and his desire to protect this woman, love her and keep her safe, had bubbled to the front.

He had been transfigured in her eyes and for an instant she had glimpsed the man he had once been. His mental bond, established through the sexual torture he had inflicted upon her, allowed him to see her confusion and the spark of compassion along with the first flicker of love ignite within her.

The words had seemed to come from nowhere, the soft words of passion, pleading with her to love him. He had felt her hesitation coupled with her desire to reach out to him. He had nearly begged her to consent to be his queen.

Then, it had ended and the old anger welled up once more, just as it was doing now. No other woman had ever been able to do that to him, to connect with that small bit of goodness still left inside him! Why out of all the women he had bedded did it have to be Dungeon Master’s pupil who affected him so?

Venger was in such a foul mood as those thoughts played across his mind that he nearly missed Shadow Demon as he floated out from behind a pillar.

"Master," the black shadow hissed, "Dungeon Master even now goes to visit the Young Ones in hopes of rescuing the thief."

"It will do them no good," Venger growled. "They cannot find this Palace and even if they could, they cannot enter, weak as they are. We are safe."

"But noble, Venger," Shadow Demon persisted, "should we not be on guard anyway? You cannot afford to loose the thief before the Day of Sorrow."

"Be gone, Shadow Demon!" Venger narrowed his eyes, which were now glowing a fiery red. "There is no immediate danger and the Day of Sorrow will be here in a short time."

Shadow Demon stared at Venger for a long moment and then began to drift up towards the ceiling.

"Never underestimate me, Shadow Demon," Venger said softly. "I know well of Dungeon Master’s plan. The Young Ones will never retake their friend. She will be the one to bring more of my lifeblood into this world before long. Then, there will nothing to stand in my way."

Venger swept his cloak back behind him and moved off to the end of the hall to examine the altar at the other end. Far above him, Shadow Demon watched his master with concern.

The Day of Sorrow was Venger’s next best chance for complete domination of the Realm. Everything had to go smoothly. Making up his mind to ensure the success of the day, with or without his master’s blessing, the dark form soared through the ceiling and moved off towards the Palace’s dungeon. He had a head count to take.

Bobby paced the campsite, unable to rest. It had been several hours and still no sign of his sister. Each of them had gone out to look for her on the off chance that she might have been able to escape from Venger. Hank had gone out first while the others tried to regroup from the dark lord's attack. After that, each one had taken a turn scouring the countryside for any sign of the thief. Yet by the time Presto had returned at nightfall, there was still no sign of her anywhere.

Across the campfire, Hank was leaning on his bow, eyes closed and head bowed. He had searched the longest of them all, slipping out of camp while the others backs were turned. He had even fought off Presto’s attempts to put him under a healing sleep, even though the magician had insisted that it was really for his own good.

"Will we ever find her, Hank?" Bobby asked, his lower lip quivering.

"I hope so, Bobby," Hank replied. "I hope so. But I don’t even know where to start looking."

"I do," a voice came from behind a small shrub.

Dungeon Master glided out from behind the vegetation, a somber look on his face.

"You will find Sheila in Venger’s Palace of Torture, hidden deep within the Fire-Lit Mountains," he told them.

"Take us there," Hank demanded, rising from his slumped position for the first time since he had returned to camp. "Teleport us, give us a flying carpet, I don’t care what. Just get us there!"

"Alas, I cannot," the little man began as Hank cut him off.

"You didn’t hear me!" the ranger growled. "I said take us there! NOW! I don’t care how you have to do it, just get it done!"

"You do not understand, Ranger," Dungeon Master replied. "It is not that I will not, but that I cannot!

"Venger has far more protections there than he does around any of his other fortresses. That palace and the items within it are the main source of his power over the Realm. It is guarded by a thousand Orcs, and enchanted by spells that even I cannot break."

He paused, making sure that each of his young pupils was paying careful attention.

"More importantly, you weapons will do you little good there. The powers that he uses to fight off Tiamat also surround the Palace. It affects your weapons, draining their powers temporarily. Much as it does my own."

"What do you mean, Dungeon Master?" That came from Diana. "You mean you can’t even get Sheila out? If you could get there, that is."

"Correct, Diana," he continued. "Venger’s spells affect me greatly and if I were to try to free Sheila, I would fail. Most likely die. There is no question on that."

"So you mean there’s nothing we can do?" Eric asked in disbelief. "But you’re, you’re Dungeon Master for pete’s sake! That’s just not right!"

"I said that I cannot help her, Cavalier. That doesn’t mean that no one else can."

"What do we do to save my sister?" Bobby demanded.

"Work together, yet apart," the little man replied.

An arrow from Hank’s bow split the ground between then. "No. More. Riddles!"

"Very well, Ranger, as you wish," Dungeon Master looked into the young man’s eyes. "Two or three of you must infiltrate the Palace by teleportation, taking with you a means of returning with Sheila. She will most likely be under a spell and unable to move on her own.

"Magician, you must remain behind with at least one other guarding you. You will work the spells that will allow the others access to the palace as well as the portal to return here. Only from this great a distance will Venger’s magic have no affect over your abilities."

Presto only nodded in reply, his hand on Uni’s mane.

"Thank you," Hank said in clipped tones. "Anything else we need to know?"

"Your time is short. I can hear Sheila. She cries for all of us, yet no one comes to help her. And the Day of Sorrow is approaching rapidly. If she feels that no one is coming for her, I worry that she may do something rash."

br> "Like what?" Bobby challenged. "My sister isn’t stupid, you know!"

"I never said she was," he continued. "However, Venger is very dangerous and there are elements within him that even he cannot control. Some of those may perhaps appeals to Sheila in ways that none of us can imagine."

"And this Day of Sorrow thing?" Eric interjected. "What? Every one the Realm gets together and realizes how miserable they are in this insect-infected pit hole?

"Not quite, Cavalier," the older man told him. "It is the one day each year when Venger is able to take a human queen who might bear his child. Any child conceived by Venger’s bride after that day would be the most evil being known to the Realm. Even more terrible that Venger himself."

Hank didn’t need to hear any more.

"We’re on it," the ranger said as he looked off in the distance towards the mountains where Venger’s castle lay.

Dungeon Master bowed to them once more and returned to the bush he has appeared from.

"Well guys," Hank grimaced as he faced each of them in turn, "I guess we’d better get busy.

Dungeon Master watched his young pupils from a distance, perched high atop a tree limb. He could sense the anger that flowed through all of them, particularly the ranger. He also sensed Sheila, alone and in pain, stranded far beyond his reach.

He wished he could give them better, more complete information, but he could not. The laws that bound the Realm bound him too. He could not give too much information to the ones who might be the Peace Bringers, the Promised Ones. No one could. If they were to succeed in the quest, most of the help had to be vague and cryptic. It was simply the way of things here.

It didn’t mean that Dungeon Master had to like it, however. He closed his eyes as the thief screamed in pain once more. In the orb floating next to him, he could see much of what Venger was inflicting upon the young girl. Not much of it was good.

What frightened the old man however, was not the pleasure she seemed to derive from the sexual acrobatics he forced on her or the longing she felt when she thought of the ranger. No, what frightened him was the moment when Sheila touched the last thread of good inside his son. The man Venger had once been shone through the evil. Dungeon Master felt the spark of love that ignited inside the thief at that instant.

That one little emotion scared the old man far more than anything else in the Realm. If Sheila were to fall to Venger, all hope for this world and many others would truly be lost.