Hidden in the shadows, The Shadow Bender's hideout was completely covered with poisonous vines and deadly ivy. Stinging nettle wrapped viciously around the brass doorknob, warning passing people this was not a place for them to be.

     A dark figure crossed the deserted avenue quickly, taking small, quiet steps. When the figure reached the plant-covered hut, it put a hand out over the doorknob. Wispy strands of dark blue magic flew out of the knob. The nettle slithered out of the hand's way and wriggled towards the keyhole, sticking one of its grass branches inside the opening.

     The door clicked and unlocked, and the figure stepped briskly inside. The inside of the hut was dark, and hardly big enough for one person. Only a few rays of moonlight shone through the cracks in the worn walls. There was a small rocking chair in the corner of the hut. The mysterious figure pulled its long, black cloak over its shoulders.

     It's silvery voice broke into the silence, "Rashu, your majesty," the figure uttered. "I have come to bring you good news." A flash of bright gold light broke the darkness. The figure shielded his eyes. A well dressed man appeared in the chair, or what used to be the chair. The deserted rocking chair now was a sparkling jewel-encrusted throne. "Continue, Tiran," the man named Rashu said, "what is this good news?"

     Tiran bowed again. "The tiara has been located." Rashu's eyes glinted with greed. "And?" He said impatiently, "where is it?"

     Tiran smiled toothily. "Close nearby," he rasped, "happens to be..." he paused dramatically. Rashu glared at his servant. "Happens to be where?" Rashu snapped. Tiran's grin wavered.

     "You are very wonderful, your majesty," he stuttered, "your m-majesty would never hurt a-any of his messengers, w-would--"

     "I will not tolerate this nonsense, Tiran." Rashu spat, his eyes lowering.

     Tiran gulped. "Yes, y-your majesty," he stammered, "shall I conjure up s-some tea for us?"

     "STOP WASTING TIME, TIRAN!" Rashu roared, losing his temper, "JUST TELL ME THE BLOODY NEWS!" Gold sparks flew out of his hands, firmly gripping the armrests of his throne.

     Tiran fell to the floor. "The t-tiara," he whispered, "the w-wizard Yanir, he f-found it."

     Rashu's eyes flashed gold.

     "Y-your majesty?"

     There was a blinding flash of gold light. Tiran lay in a heap on the floor, dead.

     "Unoa Boke, I expect you to find a dead man on the floor in our hideout. Please dispose of him as necessary. Do not use my good frying pan."