“How do these stories generally start? In the beginning?”

..The lich chortles mildly, a sound that neither seems amused nor pleasant to the ear. In fact the sound was cold, chilling to the bone, the sound that perhaps many might assume Asmodeus to sound like when the prince laughs himself. From beyond a seemingly natural veil of shadow concealing his form the lich speaks again, his voice emanating from the air itself…

“…In the Beginning…”

In the beginning the lich was born just like any other, from two young mortals named Acacia and Victor Argentile...in the centuries before demonic and draconic bloods tainted the strain. They caringly journeyed their ways into each others hearts until eventually they were married. The very night the father deflowered the mother...they forever sealed their fates as well as the future of the unborn child they conceived. Somehow however, if the story were not being told to you by the lich himself, the names of his parents would be lost, almost as though they never existed. This is a simple and trivial complication however, for the tale to be told there is no need for records…the majority of figures you will hear about are worthless, barely worth remembering, but they serve as part of the great tale of the lich. Much are these two beings who served their purpose only in delivering the boy into the world. The mother and the father both raised the young Argentile like any other child, feeding him when he was hungry, putting him to bed when he was tired. At first, he showed little potential in the crafts unable to perform even the most minor of spells. Disappointed at himself, he studied, digesting every droplet of information he could gather. By the age of twelve Amaris began to develop his unnatural abilities, becoming more focused in whatever spell he was trying to cast. It turned from a hobby to something more of an obsession, a desire to find and learn as much as possible, a calling that would forsaken all others. He began to visit an old hermit in his home village, a man by the name of Dante Haladrin. Amaris would read his books and learn as much as possible. Sometimes the strain was a little overwhelming for the boy, but he never ceased. In his mind pain was weakness leaving the body, and thusly weakness would be replaced with power. He was growing at an enormous rate, mentally as well as physically. With each spell he learned, he became increasingly more and more distant to the outside world. His thoughts of outer society began to change, they were sheep. They were weak and needed to be led, followers and never leaders. By the age of 16 he became disgusted with them, angry at their ways, lashing out towards any that pissed him off. This eventually led to hatred, a loathing the included everyone…including the old hermit and the two foolish mortals who spawned him. They all began to see the change, and in their simpleton ways decided it was demonic possession, they simply had to get rid of him.

The sperm bag and the womb that housed the “demon” soon devised a plan to retire the child to the underworld...and without remorse; they proceeded with their lies and deceit. They told Amaris to meet them close to their home; they had something they wanted to show him, a legacy of sorts passed down from Argentile to Argentile. Still to this day, he does not know exactly why he went, perhaps it was curiosity that led him into their snare, and yet he still listened and found himself beaten and caged by the two that birthed his existence into this world. They called him abomination, declared that they were going to send him to god for his judgment. You can imagine the effect this would have on any boy, and Amaris was no different. He had loathed them anyway, despised their existence and at the same time he harbored an odious love for them for bringing him into this world. With a single tear rolling down his cheek, he shed his pain and proceeded to cast illusions into the eyes of his creators. Even from his cage he managed to torture their minds, eventually forcing the female to open his cage and let him loose. “They had sealed their fate upon his conception”, and if they had known then what they know now, perhaps the father would have cut his sac from beneath his shaft and tossed it away...Amaris in his first act of pure evil conjured a demon from the depths of hell, giving it explicit permission to rape the woman while he dealt with the man. A bargain of sorts, one of the first rules the boy learned of summoning. In exchange for the power of a summon, something in turn must be given whether by blood or flesh. The demon ravaged the one who gave birth to the little mage, destroying her tight little canal and womb while he himself ripped the father apart...drinking in the blood greedily in some kind of barbaric ritual to consume his soul. He then proceed to rip the uterus from the mother's tender belly and devour it while she watched, gurgling out her curses at the child who at one time was her son. As he finished, he told the demon to take the bodies as payment for his help and in turn he fled his homeland, only to eventually find a place with a Cardinal of the church. At first he only studied under the Cardinal's supervision, learning that the world was full of potential victims, full of lost souls who were in need of release. He trusted the man who gave him a new meaning, followed him, drunk on his every word. Years would pass, and the young Amaris would become the right hand of vengeance for the Cardinal. He exacted his wrath upon entire families in his quests, leaving nothing but blood and ruins in his wake. Everything was done in exchange for the ancient texts kept hidden within the church. He continued to learn new spells and histories even in a place where magic was forbidden...though, as the Cardinal would have said. "It is a gift from god to be used against our enemies.” After the purification of a group of pagans, Amaris was once more deceived. The cardinal instructed several armed soldiers to wait until he was sleeping then detain him, and crucify him for being of the Devil's spawn.



The Cardinal had gone so far as to hire an outsider into the folds, a man who looked like the devil himself to the once more beaten and broken Amaris. He would have been known as The Warrior Argentile in those years, back before he sold his soul for the powers of the nine. Still this man, his cousin, did as he was paid to do. He nailed his cousin to a tall dead tree through both hands and feet and left him there to die. With what felt like his last effort, he managed to force the nails from his feet and hands, dropping him in a crumple before the tree. As he lay there dying he was reminded of a ritual that could give him everlasting life and more power than he could ever have dreamed possible. He had read of the ritual in the texts from the church, one of their dirty little secrets that had been hidden for centuries before his careful eyes found it. Many have tried, but only five had performed the ritual ahead of him and succeeded, all five of which suddenly faded off the face of the earth...punished by the Gods for their attempts to become immortal themselves. Even in punishment, to escape death would be well worth eternal imprisonment. He immediately began to perform it...lasting a week with no rest, and losing vast amounts of blood. Finally, on the verge of death, he finished the ritual and ascended humanity. He became the sixth lich ever to step foot upon the mortal plane. In turn for the power bestowed upon him, he lost his human body the power of the ritual ripping the very flesh from his bone. Forced to walk the earth as an undead skeletal figure wrapped in long black robes, he returned to the Cardinal’s dwelling, effortlessly dispatching guards as he made his way into the main chamber of the cardinal. It must have been shocking to him, the skeletal remains of such a faithful follower returning to take the head of the last to ever deceive him, how ironic. He enjoyed every single moment of his retribution...the way the skin made that sickening ripping sound as the head was torn off of an impaled holy figure. The way the cardinal screamed in agony, pleading to his black angel to allow him the breath of life. There was no response to the pleas other than a sickening chortle of amusement at how someone could feel so high and mighty and then seem so lowly. It was fitting for his end to be at the hands of his chosen monster, even if it was quite possibly the most gruesome thing the realms had seen in quite a few years. Then, just like those before him, the newly formed lich vanished. He resurfaced once more several years later in the desert, standing within a pinpoint position learned from it's studies. This was supposedly the resting place of the previous five lich kings before him. Using a spell he learned, or rather ripped from someone’s unwilling mind, he raised their hidden temple from its burial and proceeded inside. Choosing to battle all five of the lich kings he consumed their power, obliterating three and deciding to enslave the last two. Amaris knew quite well their power was far superior to most other creatures now existing within the mortal realm thusly they would be his servants, bodyguards who obeyed his every command. With his newly attained power and the first two of his servants, he began to travel the world, eventually finding the realm where his murderous cousin had managed to make his home; Beware.



Surprisingly however, the lich at first seemed to get along quite well with his cousin as well as the rest of the family. Demons and Creatures he had never met before, and yet, all respected the power he held. At least, at first they did. Amaris was in this time incredibly power hungry, devouring everything in sight if it held enough ability to interest him. Starting from the foundation, he began to build a palace in honor of himself…perhaps the last threads of his human emotions went into the vanity of his arrogance. The Palace of Eternal Night, as he called it, was a massive structure reaching high into the darkness of a small unknown realm. It was filled with servants and followers who, like he had previously been, remained drunk on his every word. He even formed a small religion around himself as a means of defense should any decide to take vengeance for family members he may have killed in efforts to consume their strength. Strange times indeed, as he seemed to manipulate almost everything and everyone he came into contact with. It was also around his time of first coming to beware that he found a means of forming fake flesh over his true skeletal structure, retaining the look of the vibrant young man he once had been. It was only temporary however, and he always needed to rest after performing it. When the lich attacked Black Rosé perhaps was the first time it’s cousin, The Demon Argentile, truly felt that Amaris may become a major threat to the family. He began to try and keep his power in check, keep him from consuming everything in sight. In the process Amaris began to believe himself an abomination to the family, the only surviving elder not in league with demons, or the Nine Planes. In this course of thought, he began to destroy everything he had built, murdering his priestess’ and followers. He soon fell into a reclusive state, reading up on various different tomes and books. In his studies he came across a way to cast his sight out from beyond the boundaries of his library. No longer confined to a single room, his sight began to expand as he watched the mortals of the realm living out their day to day routine, even seeing the downfall of his cousin however brief it might have been. As time passed, the lich once more resurfaced…this time moving his palace into the darkness of the Shadow Realm. Only, here…to rule, there were others that needed to be eliminated first.


Amaris’ reemergence within the realm marked a significant turn of events for Beware. With his return, others began to remove themselves from the shadow’s embrace. The light has since had two separate High Lords of the Light. The dark however, has solely had one…this being’s name is Thelrax. Even though the ancient lord demands a high amount of respect, he also happens to be one of Amaris’ enemies for now. His granddaughter holding a large portion of the realm the lich wants as his own. War is brewing in this realm of darkness, a war that will be remembered through-out the centuries, as well as the names of those who fought for what they believed or desired. In his own fashion, the lich has once more gathered faces around him, competent minds that he can trust to make their own conscious decisions; Talia, Sardis Blackwood, Leandra De Angeles, and Lady Anastasia Van’Ron. All of which rather than obey, simply act on impulse for what is best of their group and it’s goals. Only time will tell if the Lich King takes the crown and throne for himself, or if the High Lord of the Dark and his granddaughter emerge victorious.