- I would get me a nice little ice cave, with loads of stalagmites, stalactites and the skulls of my long-dead apprentices and army comrades.
- I would begin raising my apprentices from the dead. They were an incompetent bunch in life—doesn’t mean that they have to remain useless in death.
- I would discover that death really hasn’t done much in the way of improving my pupils’ skills, communication or otherwise.
- I would bury several bags’ worth of bones. A speech for the fallen pupils would be in order.
- Time for a change! You know what a newly-created lich needs? A necropolis! In the sky! No more of that damp icy cave! Time to outsource some necromantic goodness to the world.
- I would begin with the kingdom I served in life. No place like home. Step One: Raise the dead. Step Two: Profit…If by profit you mean mayhem, slaughter and eternal ice covering the land.
- Now that I’ve got a proper ice lair – just look at that landscape, it’s got all the stalagmites! – I can look above and beyond!
- I would inadvertently look at something terrible, mystical and not-at-all friendly.
- Demons would invade from the terrible, mystical, not-at-all friendly place that will –oh no!—suddenly turn out to be a horrible-no-good portal. The ice will melt, and so will my icy exterior. And interior. Every –erior in a several hundred mile radius.
- I would find myself horribly, terribly dead. My soul at the mercy of demons. Oh, well. If you can’t beat them…join them.
Liches are a lot more punctual then wizards. Even when those liches used to be wizened old wizards in the first place.
What will happen next? What didn’t happen? Find out next Friday and Monday! Yey! *claps excitedly*
The Grimoire Reliquary 