Out came Nyastren from the Vault. The ancient Archmage of Chaos had been transformed into an exceptionally twisted lich in order to survive his long self-imprisonment in his Vault.

Much death did Nyastren rain down upon the would-be plunderers of his Vault. Eventually, they started to get the upper hand... but Nyastren, who had caused such trouble for Thera with the many defenses to his Vault, had one more card yet to play...

His ancient form battered and broken from fighting half of Thera, the lich Nyastren retreats from the battle with the mortals who would dare pillage his Vault.


Glaring at his enemies across the storm-tossed Sea of Despair, his raspy whisper echoes like thunder.


I have not waited these thousands of years to be beaten by you pretenders to the legacy of accursed Order!


You desire what has been stored in my Vault?


You wish to see the untamed might of Magic?

You lust after the power of Chaos?

THEN HAVE IT!

Pouring the remaining strength in his undying form into a final spell, Nyastren collapses, uttering a single arcane word.

In answer, the immense magical power stored within the Vault's mana well ignites, fueling a primeval spell of annihilation, augmenting its potence beyond imagination.

Although a storm of destruction consumes the area, it is the effects of the spell's assault upon the very fabric of reality that will be remembered...



All the leaking energies from countless magical items and artifacts stored in the Vault of Nyastren had, for Ages, been trapped and focused into a unique mana well. During his long imprisonment, Nyastren had begun to believe that those he meant to permit to claim the contents of his Vault would never come. He had prepared a magical weapon of last resort using the mana well in case one of his many hated enemies should open the Vault. With his back at last to the wall, he used it, assaulting the weave of magic and even the very nature of reality with Chaos magic of untold power.

A magical rift has been torn open near the former dig site in the Sea of Despair; death waits for all who near it. Not even ghosts are safe. A victory over Nyastren had been won, but at too high a price.

It seemed that as part of his final stroke, Nyastren had also dispersed the contents of his Vault to the four winds. Some of these items have already resurfaced and are in the possession of adventurers; others are not yet accounted for.