Demon plane of Oblivion, City of Ash Year 192 in the Rule of the Dead "Do we go to our death - or worse?" Malkom Slaine gazed over at his best friend, Prince Kallen the Just, wishing he had a better answer for him, anything to ease the apprehension in Kallen's eyes. As the vampire guards shoved them along, deeper into their stronghold, Malkom suspected death might be welcome before the night was out. "The rumors are likely untrue," he lied, putting up a renewed resistance as the dozen guards forced them down a flight of stone steps. But his bonds were mystical; Malkom was unable to teleport or break free. At the base of the stairs lay a subterranean chamber with an ornate throne on a dais. Though the floor was of packed earth, the walls were hung with rich silks and tapestries. Rare crystal and glass adorned the room. At once, Malkom began analyzing every inch of the area for an escape. Ahead, a pair of winded demon slaves stood beside a freshly dug grave. More guards lined the walls, with swords at the ready. In the back, a black-robed sorcerer worked at a vial-cluttered table. Gods, let the rumors be untrue ... those whispers of the Scarba - the abominations. Kallen muttered, "Can you see a way out of this?" Normally, Malkom could. Without fail, he figured his way out of seemingly impossible predicaments. "Not as