Memoirs of a Lich: Treasure

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. If you are not Osvaud, then you should ask yourself how a smart guy like me let you get your grubby hands on his diary? I mean, face the facts… I’m an immortal super genius with enough magical power to make solars soil themselves. What sounds more likely: I wanted you to read this thing because I am messing with you, or you’re some one-in-a-million special snowflake capable of getting something I...

Your Whispering Homunculus: For One Night Only… Funny Weather, Too

“Close the shutters, grotesquelet. I have it on good authority we’re in for a stormy night.” “With pleasure, Oh Round One. Hail?” “Don’t grovel. My dear friend Ragwort the Amaranth Wizard tells me he’s expecting toads.” “Please, proffer him my congratulations master.” “Don’t be impertinent, and get that cat oiled.” For One Night Only are occasional articles within YWH to spice up a...

Memoirs of a Lich: Frenemies

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. We have a lot of enemies, but some of our best friends are technically enemies. Most aren’t usually really trying to kill you and are probably willing to murder others attempting to rob them of a victory after centuries of conflict. Plus, they work hard to keep existence interesting and can actually surprise you. After eons of chess games using nations and undead dinosaur assassins as pieces, you end up with...

Your Whispering Homunculus: For One Night Only… Funny Weather

“Close the shutters, grotesquelet. I have it on good authority we’re in for a stormy night.” “With pleasure, Oh Round One. Hail?” “Don’t grovel. My dear friend Ragwort the Amaranth Wizard tells me he’s expecting toads.” “Please, proffer him my congratulations master.” “Don’t be impertinent, and get that cat oiled.”  For One Night Only are occasional articles...

Memoirs of a Lich: Wannabes

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. I’m assuming at this point that you’ve bought in on the idea that I am you. Just in case, I’d like to call attention to your fourth rib down on the left. Upon close inspection, you will find an arcane mark of our favorite four letter word. For any home-invaders, I humbly recommend that you go arcane mark yourself. Like, what did I ever do to you anyway?! Actually, don’t answer that. For one thing, this is a...

Memoirs of a Lich: Prophecy

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. It is extremely important for you to forever remember the dire prophecy surrounding our downfall. They say a powerful group of four to six humanoids shall someday gain this diary and use it to bring about your final death. You shall know them by their purity of spirit being matched only by their ability to thwart your vile schemes. Each shall be born under the light of a crescent moon in the year of the owlbear to...

Memoirs of a Lich: Mistakes

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. I can prove it by relaying a personal, private detail from our past that you’ll never forget (no matter how far gone we become). Remember that time we dominated the dragon to act as a mount and how awesome it was? Okay, now, recall how we neglected to prepare a feather fall spell, thinking that we’d just cast fly if we needed to? As it turns out, you fall more than two hundred feet in about the same time as it takes...

Memoirs of a Lich: Allies

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. In case you still don’t believe me, I draw your attention to the masterful doodle of a pit fiend and balor engaged in a tender yet passionate embrace on the opposite page. Who else would know what that actually looks like? Here’s hoping Duke Adrastor and Lord Gordrak the Eviscerator work out. They make such a cute couple, and we helped make that particular miracle of matchmaking happen. To any Sir...

Memoirs of a Lich: Minions

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. If this is being read by anyone else, I want to be clear that this whole diary is a well-planned distraction, and my legions of cunning henchmen (and henchwomen, I’m an equal opportunity antagonist) are surrounding you at this very moment! Hah hah. No not really. That would be great if it was true though, right? No, I’ll inevitably have to kill you myself. Which brings me to today’s topic—minions....

Memoirs of a Lich: Arrogance

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. You can be sure it is me because I’m the only one who knows about our phylactery’s super-secret hiding place. Keep reading, and you’ll see I’m telling the absolute truth. For any sneaky protagonists taking a gander at my private thoughts, I’d say it is a bad idea to sneak a peek at an ancient lich’s diary. You never know when he might throw an explosive runes in the middle of a...

Memoirs of a Lich: Introduction

Dear Osvaud, This is Osvaud. We are writing things down because our memory is falling apart in our extreme decrepitude. If we stop remembering how great we are, we’ll just start moping about with nothing to do. Neither of us wants to end up a floating bejeweled skull. I mean, we’ve spent millennia building up our wardrobe. It is only a matter of time before that pink robe of the archmagi is back in fashion. So sit up, and pay...

The Lost GM Scrolls: A Friday Funny with Mike Mearls

Back in the fall of 2009, Chris Dinkins and I interviewed a host of game designers and novelists who were also experienced game masters. We sent around too many questions to too many GMs and received far too much material for one article to hold. As a result, a lot of great material got scrapped. Fortunately, gaming wisdom ages well. I recently discovered a folder full of all that cut material (anecdotes, advice, and miscellany), which we will...

Oh, I’m Going to Get Killed Any Minute Now (Part 24)

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please read the earlier installments first. (Art by Chris McFann.) DAY FIFTY-FIVE (later) Well. Planning—and subsequently executing—a company picnic is significantly harder than I initially expected. Here’s my whole freaking Saturday basically wasted, and I’m no closer to having that punch made than I was this morning; just getting the boxes of streamers, tablecloths, and party hats out of their crates...

Oh, I’m Going to Get Killed Any Minute Now (Part 23)

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please read the earlier installments first. (Art by Chris McFann.) DAY FIFTY-FOUR (date in t-minus 7 minutes) I owe my friends. BIG TIME. Quite literally, actually. I very specifically had to sign actual paperwork documenting that I, in fact, owe my friends and that, very specifically, what I owe them is quote-unquote BIG TIME. So now I’ve got clean pants, and money, and reservations to what is...

Oh, I’m Going to Get Killed Any Minute Now (Part 22)

As ever, readers who are new to the diary, please read the earlier installments first. (Art by Chris McFann.) DAY FIFTY-FOUR (I think. Later than this morning, most likely in the . . . I’m going to go with mid-afternoon, now, probably? Also, I’m pretty sure the dates on this diary have gotten a little mixed up.) Fridays. Yuck. Locked—as is so often the case—in the bathroom. Just woke up in the middle of a large—and seemingly quite...


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