The Story of the Lich

A massive griffon's footsteps thundered through the Everfree Forest. His muscled chest in a iron breastplate that covered only half his breast, around his waist a great iron kilt that covered a long pair of loose trousers. Around his back was a great round shield, a longsword in his claws. Down his chest went a great long beard, red with speckles hear and there of grey showing, his head covered in long feathery hair. Trailing him was a slightly smaller griffon, beardless and longhaired, wearing nothing but pants, a sword in his hands and a heavy gauntlet around his claw.

"Where is this Lich you mentioned Father? Aren't they supposed to have great armies of undead? That doesn't sound like something one could just miss." says the younger to the greater.

"Be hushed my Son, and learn from my wisdom. Sorcerers do not survive centuries by making themselves easy to find. Would that they would advertise, hmm?" says the Old Griffon stroking his beard.

"But you raise a point. We tarry too long looking by sight."

With that the great griffon raises his sword in front of him, the cracked metal shimmering and reflecting a few stray lines of sunlight that pour in from the canopy above.

"Magistren! Grant me thy Fourth Eye! Pierce the veil!" shouts the Elder Griffon, as his eyes turn blank and shine with white magic. He slowly turns his head, panning the forest as though he were looking through it not at it.

"He is in a tomb ten miles to the east of there. If we hurry we can catch him by surprise, before he detects my scrying."

The two giants thundered through the Everfree, deeper and deeper in as the light from above became more and more obscured by the trees.