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[Darrien Church]

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A large and imposing citadel, surrounded and strewn with all manner of bones sits untouched and undisturbed in the Fellucian waste-lands, save for a single figure effortlessly throwing open an ornate and heavy door.

The Lich Lord’s laughter filled his citadel as Isk, Magnate of Magincia made his way through the artifact strewn halls piled with books, armor and odd items from The Lich’s great order’s historic past.

“Your arrival was forseen Magnate, long have we watched from the shadows with increasing interest and long have we expected this day.” A bodiless voice echoed out as Isk began to climb a great winding stair-case.

“Then you know what it is you must do…it is time to step out from those shadows Lich Lord, you will perform for us a ritual.” A dark voice bellowed from the possessed Magnate’s armor clad skull.

A great multitude of incorporeal voices echo out around the magnate as whispers fill his ears on all sides.

“The Lich Lord gives no gifts magnate…everything has it’s price. If we do this for you…we shall need compensation.”

“What is it you want?” replied the Magnate reaching the doors to the Lich-Lord’s throne room, two large ebon doors sculpted with an array of historic images from The Order’s past. Suddenly the empty eye-sockets of several skulls embedded into the doors flooded with swirling green vortexes of energy began to speak in unison,


“In our greatness…we shall restore the power of your accursed armor…we shall aid you in ushering one thousand years of darkness and plague and you shall at your grim task’s completion lend your powers to restoring what is most sacred to us…what will complete us.”

“Oh, is that all?”Remarked the Magnate apathetically.

An ear shattering screech echoes from beyond the doors and momentarily causes them to vibrate, a sound that certainly came from the mouth of the Lich Lord himself.

“We shall claim dominion over all Sosaria…we shall restore the Glorious Stygian Empire and you shall command it to be such…you shall lay waste to all who oppose our divine will!” howled the mounted skulls, their eyes swirling with the excitement felt by their dark puppet-master.

“Perhaps” said the Magnate “Or perhaps not…for this will breed discord among our allies, Umbra…Dark Cove…they shall never bow to you Lich Lord. But…you may have dominion over ever bone fragment of those not of our alliance…” spoke the Magnate calmly sensing the Lich Lord’s ire radiating from beyond the doors.

Suddenly, as if they had not been opened in years the doors crackled and creaked as a pale green light flooded the throne-room radiating from the eyes of the Lich Lord himself.

‘Agreed.” Spoke the Lich Lord simply.

‘Excellent Lich Lord…you nor I can escape our destiny.” The Magnate boasted clearly pleased with the meetings results.

Darrien tilted his skull to the side slightly and began to laugh…the Magnate had he been in Darrien’s position would see the mirror of Morgaz hanging ominously above the wall behind Isk he would have also seen the scene playing out in it’s reflection…

“You must promise us one thing Magnate…you will slay a great many…”

As the Magnate exited the chambers and the doors slammed shut he did not pause to take notice of the etchings on their surface:

The Lich Lord Azalin Ebon Skull in hand raising all manner of dead on Dagger Island all those years ago as his own minions his great army.