Moisture on the walls have gathered to form a pool.

Colorful invertebrates wave up at the ghoul;

Or at least, this horse is undoubtedly undead.

They have kept low, and this world has forgot to dread

Magdrist the Lich, they were once quite feared by that name.

"What is dead cannot hurt me", some others proclaimed...

Those who thought themselves 'heroes' did fight the undead,

The Spawn of that Oneiros left those 'heroes' bled.

They were not evil, but they would fight to persist,

Even the undead had their own right to exist.

Before becoming a Lich, Madgrist heard it said

Oneiros knew how gift power to ones undead:

They sought him out, in search of that potential might,

Found him illuminated by the Furnace light.

"I come in search of power," Magdrist had then said.

"Would you trade your life to become one of the dead?"

Red eyes and an enthralling voice did so propose.

"If it gives me what I want, then yes, I suppose."

Oneiros saw their significant potential

For he made them an undead more consequential:

To become a Lich, it took years of self-study,

...Usually. He gave solutions so bloody,

And Madgrist, they started out as a student witch

It all sped up process for them to be a lich.

Now Oneiros, their teacher, he has returned.

No longer does he slumber for reasons unearned.

Magdrist is glad he is back, a least in a way.

They would not have wanted him to suffer and stay.

They disdain following orders, though he gives few,

And most orders are for his Spawn's sake, it is true...