The Grey Lord sought to harness the power of the Power Gem. Many nights he toiled in his study pouring over runes and conducting experiment after experiment, trying to find it. One night while sending off his young apprentice Theron, the Grey Lord shared some good news.. he had found it. Before Theron could ask any more he had been thrown across the countryside on swift winds of magic. Later that night the Grey Lord called upon magic so powerful the heavens shook and the world was torn asunder. Magic tore through his every limb and burned his soul. From his soul was ripped his own darkest side and the Grey Lord was no more. Only Lord Chaos, his twisted twin, and his helpless spirit, now calling himself Lord Librasulus, meaning 'restorer of order' . Theron survived as well but not as one would hope for, he was no longer of the world either. He was only a whisper in dark spaces. He had magic left in him though and he was the only one who could enter the Dungeon of Chaos's creation.

Chaos has had a few years in which to build it and many have entered into its depths only to meet their doom. Chaos in all his twisted humour collected their souls and placed them into magic mirrors for display. A warning to any others who would stumble through the front doors. Those souls now await their chance to be freed... Theron... Free them ...find the Firestaff .. and free me ..