Liches are the remains of powerful wizard-priests who, through fell magics and sinister grimoires, have cheated death and live on beyond the grave in a decaying shell that still revels in awesome magical energies. Unholy magics and an unwavering devotion are not the only things keeping them on the prime material plane. Their souls are already traded to dark gods, but a spark of their essence remains that must be encased in a talisman of sorts. This trinket is a requirement of their Unlife, but no scholar knows how or why this is.

The lair of a lich will often be a complex underworld maze or a wickedly diseased stretch of thick wilderness, at whose black heart resides a tower riddled with magic traps and deadly guardians. Liches do not suffer the fools who would tread upon their mysteries.

Each lich will be able to cast an impressive battery of spells, and those with magic user abilities will have multiple copies of powerful spell tomes. Their magical ability, at a minimum, must be 18th, as only those mortals have travelled so far down the path of magic have even a hope of mastering the rituals of Lichdom. The mere touch of a lich will inflict 2 dice of cold damage upon the victim, and they must save vs paralysation or be held frozen to the spot for 3d8 turns. Anything below 6th level beholding a lich (even in a reflection or a projected image) must save vs magic or never return to the area again.

Often dressed in rich decaying rags that were exquisite in life, liches are now horrors to behold. They are cadaverous in appearance, with unholy pin-points of green light emanating from the otherwise empty pits that are the eye-sockets of its fleshless skull. Diseased and leprous tatters of meat cling feebly to ancient bones, reeking with the rot of the grave.

Liches are believed to feast on Soul Worms.