Azdun eyed the ghost warily, his sword drawn and his other hand resting on the book chained to his waist for good luck. These were not the Dwarf-Ghost's halls, he knew. Never were. He merely stole them from the Great One. As he had stolen His gold and defiled His subterranean darkness, driving it back with torches and fire. But darkness had reclaimed this place, and this 'King' was but a shadow of his former self. Such is the fate of those who deny the true master of this world.