Congratulations on your 12 year anniversary. That is an impressive amount of time spent within this institution, but nothing more than a grain of sand falling through the hourglass for the servants of Vecna, for whom even death is but an inconvenience. They who are asked “At what price, power?” and answer they shall pay any cost. Perhaps as little as an eye and a hand. Perhaps far more. Always at the cost of your soul. We wallow in the filth of this world, in forgotten ruins, trading in secrets and defiling the works of man and elves alike. Our cults are hidden in plain sight, in the heart of your cities, corrupting allies and foes alike. We are an inclusive blight. A spreading rot. You cannot defeat us. Do you not feel as though it is time to join us? Give in to the call of lichdom and secret your spirit away in phylacteries hidden the world over. Watch as feeble heroes stumble and flail, trying to cast down your dark designs, but only ensnaring themselves deeper within your webs. Watch as the tides of undeath swell and wash this world clean of the blight of the just and the pure. We are waiting for you. We have an eternity.