"Sounds like a real tyrant," Torinn comments, grimacing at the thought of a lich controlling a city. The mental image of fear and sadness in the eyes of every citizen who was more than a rotting husk made perverse puppet made him grind his teeth in anger. He snarled, "I never liked tyrants in storybooks. They always ran their kingdoms into ruin and made the people suffer for their own selfish whims. Greedy and rotten to the core, every last one of them." He pauses to indulge in another half-remembered piece of a story, smiling bitterly, "Their inevitable downfall due to their own callousness and carelessness was always the most cathartic part of the story..."
Realizing he went off on a tangent, Torinn coughs politely, "But I digress. Your people still suffer under his oppression, yes? If nothing else can stop such a... Thing... From holding a kingdom in its bony clutches, then I woul send him to his overdue grave by my own hand and establish a benevolent ruler in his stead."