Anhil’s descendants spent decades planning and plotting, seeking vengeance for their ancestor. They had to put a stop to the biting cold. Forged from stone extracted deep within the Black Pool, and imbued with forbidden magicks, Ethreain’s new prison was born. They were able to ambush and restrain him, only just, with barely enough time to hammer the prison into his icy flesh. As the last stake was driven into his chest, the lich’s eyes shot open, and an icy explosion destroyed his captors. The ancient magicks and mythical stone that were intended to destroy him, only made him colder. Now nothing stands in the way of the chill wind.

"From cold death, I rise again!"