At long last, the defeat of the Whispering Tyrant is at hand. After locating The formula used for the specialty Lich potion, I merely had to delve a bit further into the depths of that cursed cathedral in order to find what I was looking for. Along the way, I did encounter a ritual of a Lich’s revitalization occurring, which I naturally wished to end. The fiend managed to put of a good fight, but in the end he and his zombie clerics were slain.
The final room of the basement contained the things for which I needed to locate most, the Prince and that Pathfinder fellow who was kidnapped assumably as a secondary. One visage of the prince hung above a pool of black ichor, while nearly twenty likenesses of him enacted a ritual in the room before him. At the head of this ceremony, a grim Friar stood, overseeing the process. I deduced that this ritual was to scrape the soul from the Prince, so as to leave his body a vessel for the Tyrant, and so at all costs I had to end the process. No matter how secretive the Lich’s poison is used in this ritual, it can be discovered, however the heir of his bloodline is finite, and reacquiring these two individuals would mean an end to the ritual completely. I entered in under guise of stealth, and started setting fire to the room and those within. I had no method of determining all of the Princes, so I had to conclude a grim resolve; I must destroy a few and hope that he is not among them. The battle was vicious, as they swarmed me as I attacked. Thankfully, the Friar was killed, and the last remaining likeness was the Pathfinder, which could only mean one of the bodies belonged to the true Prince. I located him in the hopes that he could be resurrected and set back for Lastwall.
It took nearly two days before inevitably the Professor’s daughter caught up with me, angered and spouting demands she had no ability to enforce, nor intention of keeping. She did, however, ride in on a very ancient Dracolich, one I believed to be Tar-Baphon’s original mount. Never the less, I could not allow her to take either of these men for her nefarious means, and I could not stand by while she destroyed either of them, so our battle was eminent. The professor’s daughter was quite mad, but this can be an advantage, as well, so a nearby adventurer began to appeal to her. I am not clear as to whether it had worked, but she was taken aback, questioning her actions. At that moment yet another adventurer appeared, and knocked the vial of poison from her hand, staining the earth, but as the least of it’s evil purposes. The Dracolich was furious, and nearly tore some other pour soul apart, but we then acted together, as though we were a group, defeating the creature. In the end, the Pathfinder and the Professor’s daughter were spared.
I finally returned to Lastwall, offering the amassing armies the victim, the aggressor, and the body of the Prince. There many men set to action, promising that the Prince can well be resurrected in his current state. With such an army amassed, I recommended marching on the hordes of undead in these lands, quashing the threat once and for all. But at last, I was not to be among their ranks. I had saved the poor Professor’s daughter, and stopped a Tyrant, which I believe to be adequate enough. I was offered a role as the Royal Alchemist, a role I was eager to take, as I wished to perfect my Metallurgic Transmutations, and they would be grateful for me doing so. Thus, for now, I shall stay. This journal contains many ideas yet undeveloped, and I wish to research them more, for certain. Perhaps I shall start with a lich potion that does not evoke Necromancy, but rather a separate magical school. What of a longevity potion within the realms of Restoration, the more logical conclusion. I wonder how long a life span I can manufacture…