Van Richten's Guide to Liches

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadful, for thou art not so,
For those whom thou think'st thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poor death, nor yet canst thou hill me.

- John Donne
"Holy Sonnets", no. 10

Who knows what arcane experiments are carried out by powerful wizards secluded in their mystical I towers? We who are uninitiated to the machinations of spells and other magical phenomena can only wonder about the events that take place in a mage's private study. We can barely fathom the voluminous tomes of secret knowledge upon which these men and women pour their attentions.

The fruits of such labor can be of wondrous benefit to persons throughout the lands. A goodly wizard's reward is the admiration and gratitude of us all, and the knowledge and satisfaction that our world has benefited and is a better place to raise our children. On the other hand, a mage also might elect to call forth the most vile creatures and evil magic we could imagine.

Sometimes, in exchange for assisting evil fiends from unseen planes who desire a foothold into our realm, unwise mages are granted great powers to wield over their fellows. I fear that too many mages pursue this opportunity over the considerations of the state of our world. For these mages, treachery awaits. Wizards who follow evil paths do not understand that one cannot trust a creature that, by its nature, lives to betray.

Still other mages seek those secrets of power of their own free will. They hope to gain knowledge that evil and powerful creatures jealously guard for themselves. Such a mage believes that it is better to enter the perilous halls of power himself, using his own efforts, than to rely upon the questionable graces of others. The magnitude of this struggle is great. Evil uses many secrets to pervert our world - secret elusive that a mortal must expend every ounce of his strength and spirit acquire them.

This devotion is, no doubt, the means by which the mage is subverted and changed. He loses sight of the pursuits of normal life and becomes obsessed with seeking the keys to power. Eventually, the mage realizes that he cannot learn those secrets in his short lifetime. He finds that he must secure method of continuing his researches and experiments for years, perhaps even centuries, to come.

For this incredibly ambitious wizard there is but one way: He must transform himself into a different creature, one that will outlive his mortal shell so that he might continue his arcane efforts.

During a full moon, this mage imbibes a potion that instantly kills him - yet his spirit survives! His spirit actually dispossesses itself of his body While in this state, the spirit acclimate itself to dark energies that are the source of pure evil. The spirit of the wizard becomes sympathetic to the heart of evil so that it may learn new and more potent secrets in the future.

The spirit eventually returns to the body, but in the interim the body shrivels and mummifies into a twisted mask of death. This corpse rises from its own grave, eyes alight with a scarlet lust for knowledge and power. The mage has died, yet it lives now and forever as a corpse. Now it has the means to pursue its twisted - nay, mangled - destiny.

Perhaps after this vile transformation the mage within the crusted shell reveals in its accomplishment. If so, it will likely be the last truly human feeling the former wizard experiences, for he has consigned himself to an eternal existence that denies the sweet, fruits of mortality and replaces them with the sour rewards of the pursuit of evil. The mage has forsaken his mortal identity altogether. Now the evil soul in the withered shell of its body adopts a new name, which it feels is more appropriate to its station. Whatever arcane synonym for evil the creature likes, we know it for what it truly is: a lich. It is a name to be uttered with curses and contempt.

I dislike expounding upon my exploits for two reasons: First, I am by nature a reticent man with little inclination to boast of or excuse my actions. Second, I have no wish to expose too much of myself to those who could see me halted in my quest to destroy the unliving dead. If the lich has taught me one thing, it is that knowledge is the greatest of all powers, so I would not have my enemies know too much of me. Nevertheless, I cannot expect the reader to accept this treatise without some qualification. Therefore, I will briefly introduce myself, then explain my involvement with and study of one of the most deadly beings to poison the mind with its ruthless ambitions.

I was a doctor by profession, and might have happily remained so had the black hand of Fate not closed upon me. One day, my beloved son was kidnapped by the Vistani - curse their gypsy hearts forever! - and sold to a vampire, a blood-drinking creature of the night who masqueraded as an honorable nobleman named Baron Metus. Even now it rends my heart to explain that I was forced to lay my own son to rest at the point of a wooden stake! In retaliation, Baron Metus murdered my beautiful wife, and thus was I cast out of happiness forever. Once I sipped the finest wine of family bliss, but now I choke on the bitter dregs of revenge!

Vampires became the first targets of my vengeance, and I dedicated myself to learning all that was humanly possible to know about them. I lost many friends and comrades along the way, each of whom was as dedicated as I to the cause of justice. It is of some comfort that their sacrifices yielded invaluable information, culminating in an extended treatise on vampires-a volume that I pray will save countless spirits from eternal slavery. It is with great satisfaction that I proclaim that Baron Metus is now a pile of dust in a sunny meadow.

Compilers' Note: Dr. Van Richten's "Guide to Vampires" was reprinted as Section One of Volume One of Van Richten's Monster Hunter's Compendium.

It was not long before my notoriety as a vampire hunter led me to the study of incorporeal undead. These beings had also taken their toll upon me and those I held dear. I have felt the chilling touch of a ghost upon my own breast, stealing precious years from my life. I have even studied entire volumes of my own research in order to relearn knowledge lost to the memory-sapping grip of one peculiar night phantom.

After the completion of my study of ghosts, for a brief time I hoped that I might finally lay down my sagely mantle and retire, but that sweet dream may be forever beyond my grasp. I have realized that my world is populated by a multitude of strange and evil things, but few are those who will chase them down and kill them, once and for all. It occurs to me that I have accrued extremely specialized experience that too many others have died pursuing. If I quit now, others will perish where I might succeed. A few more scars upon my heart and body might yet preserve the freshness and innocence of others.

With these convictions upon me, I am compelled by conscience and need to take up quill and parchment to write of one of the vilest, most damnable beasts to plague the world: the lich.

I became especially aware of the extreme danger of these creatures because of an event involving a wizard friend of mine, named Shauten. Shauten was one of my comrades-at-arms in the battle against darkness, and a powerful one at that. He was ever secretive, ever enigmatic, yet I accepted his eccentricities because his part in my cause was indispensable. More than once Shauten cast a last-moment spell that saved us all.

Yet Shauten's own agenda might be called traitorous by some. His part in our hunt for the most powerful of the undead was a quest for ever more knowledge of necromancy. As the time of our association lengthened, Shauten grew increasingly withdrawn, preoccupied with certain research of his own.

In the end, I learned of his attempt to make the leap to immortality - he attempted to deprive me of my beating heart, to facilitate his transformation to lichdom. He relented only at the last moment, and I believe in my heart that his feelings of friendship for me ultimately spoiled his most crucial spell and saved my life. For that - for all the times he saved my life - and for the invaluable information that he imparted along that way, I shall always name him "friend".

It was Shauten who opened the door to a stunning discovery of relevance to this whole work. I am afraid that lich is among us on our world. I shudder at the realization that this monster has been in a position of ultimate power over us for as long as anyone here can remember.

Our illustrious ruler, Lord Azalin, is almost surely a lich! I fear that he is no more the wizard-king he outwardly claims to be than it is safe to walk the countryside at night during a full moon know not what he called himself - what his true name was - before he transformed himself to lichdom. It does not matter, though, since that person died with the drinking of the lethal potion that began the ritual.

What is important for us to keep at the forefront of our thoughts is that we may be living under the rule of someone who is far from human. Although there has been talk of his extended life span, of how it seems he has outlived everyone in the entire realm, and how this has been achieved through his own magic - such is not true. If he is indeed a lich, then we must, through some monumental effort drive him from our land.

My knowledge of our ruler's true nature was not clear to me at first. It was Shauten who put me on the scent that led me to the discovery. We were in a carriage on the road between II Aluk and Rivalis, in my native Darken. I was during the day, as we had left at the break of dawn in order to reach our destination before nightfall.

We were passing through a forest, roughly at the midpoint between the two cities, when we rounded a sharp curve and found the road blocked. To my horror, I realized that the road was littered with bodies! I looked for an overturned carriage, thinking one might have taken the curve at too great a speed and turned to its side, but I saw none. My thoughts raced as I considered my function as a doctor. How would I care for so many people? How many could we take to II Aluk for care, and how many would have to be left behind?

These thoughts were disrupted when Shauten alerted me to a more horrifying fact: the dead in the road were rising up and moving toward us!

Each zombie appeared to have been rotting for many days at the least. Their eye sockets glowed with a dull red gaze. They moved toward our carriage, making no sound save for their shuffling feet upon the dusty road.

I shouted to the driver to turn us around, but my call went unanswered. I exited the coach to see what had happened to him, and he was nowhere to be seen! I therefore took the reins of the horses myself, calling for the driver all the while. Shauten joined me at the driver's seat, and we turned the horses around quite easily; they were only too glad to retrace their steps. Nevertheless, the undead were upon us and it became necessary to fend them off.

I reached into my black satchel and produced my holy symbol - an iron and silver relic that has always afforded me protection - and thrust it confidently in their rotting faces. They immediately grabbed me and pulled me into their midst! Only the quick words and fingers of dear Shauten blasted them clear of me and enabled our fortunate escape.

As I sent the horses into a gallop to carry us as quickly as possible from the encounter, I saw a lone, tall man, dressed in the finest robes and with a crown upon its head, standing beyond the undead on the road. I recognized in moments the raiment of Lord Azalin himself on the man! In that moment of recognition, I espied a bright crimson fire in his eyes matching that of his undead host. He appeared no more alive than they did!

Later, when I remarked upon the monsters' immunity to my holy symbol, Shauten replied that they were minions of magic, not of death. It was not until much later, when Shauten nearly consumed me in a necromantic rite of passage, that I made the connection between Azalin and his minions, and I knew that my land was ruled by the hand of Death.

Now, with a core of research and yet a few more harrowing experiences behind me, I present the latest of my guides to the creatures of darkness. As always, the reader must bear in mind that the evidence presented herein is largely anecdotal and that nothing in these lands can be taken for the absolute truth. Still, if experience is the best teacher, then the reader may profit from this honest effort to expose the well-guarded secrets of the lich. May it shed light upon the subject as the sun casts light down upon the dusty remains of Baron Metus!