His every day was spent in preparation for the Quest. In greatest secret he had studied the arts that would let him attune the energies of the universe to his needs. It was not science by any means and he was uncertain, sometimes, in what form the powers would manifest themselves. When he started on his journey he had done that in utmost secret as well. Others were out on this Quest but he would not delay by trying to thwart them, his best chance lie in an undistracted attack on the goal. When others he suspected of competing on the Quest came near he shrouded himself with an enchantment. He never sought to attack or delay them, these things invited retaliation. He did not have time for such indulgences, by wining through to the Crown he could remedy all past grudges, imagined and real.

He had built up a following but he never entered civilized precincts lest he give away his existence. His ability to tap the arcane energies of the universe at will was his greatest strength. He could blast obstacles to dust or use subtle means to bypass them. By dealing only with dodgy hedge wizards and calling on departed spirits that listened at the edge of reality in the places of the dead, he was able to gain even more powers.

He was not blind to good fortune when it came his way; he came upon the parts of what was once a raft lodged in a backwash of the Storm River. It took his team little time to repair it and pole across the treacherous river. The crazy Warlock was just a charlatan, in the face of the Wizards real power and he dared not try to confound him. He had found some real treasures to be sure; the true Talisman he gained could not be duplicated. The Wizard had ‘convinced’ the Warlock to take a payment of gold and be done with it. He knew the Warlock had some power, that there was some game he was playing at, but it did not matter, the Quest was the important thing.

He and his troop had braved the burning desert and faced spirits from the netherworld to arrive here. After passing through the portal they had gone through the maze like underground of an ancient mine. This was no trifling thing but come through it they did. When they had passed it they were confronted by an old tower, much given over to decay. From it came a screaming horde of vampires! They were starved for blood but their leader stopped their onslaught, there were matters of etiquette to maintain. Vampires existed by an unusual code of behavior, probably adapted because of their lack of true death. Their endless existence had to be punctuated by certain amusements and ‘playing with your food’ was one of them.

Vampires remembered very clearly their former lives and they always sought to mimic their previous habits, so it was now. They would not enter your home uninvited, no matter how humble, and they expected the same courtesy. They had demanded a payment to allow the wizard to pass, he paid it without remorse. As the undead monsters swarmed over his faithful followers the Wizard passed through their domain without regret. The Gnome had been of value at the Portal and in the mines, so it was with a tiny Pixie that could find secret ways through the deepest forest, he was done with them now, as well as the others he had permitted to follow him; there was no place for them in the Seat of Power.

He had to cross a region of fetid pits and, as expected, he was assaulted by a horde of Fiends. These were lesser creatures of the underworld given physical form, he was able to master them all and move past to the Valley of Fire. As he entered the Valley he discerned an interloper. A callow youth he had seen in passing early in his journey, this one could be trouble, he had come far but he was too late! The Wizard held aloft the Talisman in the prescribed manner and stepped onto a small arcing footbridge of stone that crossed the Valley and into the chamber of the Crown.