Lich Analogs for All Schools of Magic

From Here

Abjuration - Freeze your body in a bubble of crystalized space-time, interacting telekinetically with everything. You're obviously going to need servants or adventurers to help move your bubble around, since telekinesis won't work on yourself. You could also permanently push your body a few seconds into the future, making yourself physically inaccessible and granting some extra fourth-dimensional perspective.

Conjuration - Bind soul to a demiplane, becoming a sentient structure. Congrats, now the dungeon is you! If you're really good, you could make the entire planet into your very own soul gem.

Divination - Body refuses to age by manipulating random chance, or you divined the location of a fountain of immortality that you must drink from each day. Fits most old sage archetypes, and due to your precarious immortality you may have to send others to get your work done for you. If you're really ambitious, turn yourself into an infectious meme, a demigod of intellect that survives as long as a particular fact, story, or song is known to sentient minds.

ULW's Fucked Up Friday, 10/9/15, Claudia RP 1 of 1

"Ladies and gentlemen, boils and ghouls, inbreds of all stages! Feast your eyes upon the prize; upon a grand and glorious, miraculous marvel to tantalize and titillate even the most snobbish of sourpuss smarks!"

"I bring to you… me! Clauda the Clown, ULW's newest novelty, it's most cutting-edge combatant, it's recentest wrestler! That's totally a word and you will never ever be able to convince me otherwise, ha ha!"

"Yes siree! You all are in for a treat like no other, because I'm nothing like the rest of the roster, oh golly gosh no! See, somebody put out the call umpteen weeks ago looking for interesting peoples! Folks who don't just wander in off the street with a banana hammock, a goofy-ass haircut, a pair of boots, a chip on their shoulder, a tragic backstory, and some serious mental defects."

"Like seriously, y'all motherfuckers need therapy. C-R-A-Z-Y you don't need an alibi, you crazy, ya ya you crazy! And I don't mean crazy like me, which is crazy in an amusing, zany, happy, pleasant, positive way. I mean like sad sacks whose refusal to get treatment makes each and every one of you a total downer to be around. A complete and utter bummer to all the butts in the seats. A party pooper who poops parties presenting proper poop."

ULW's Fucked Up Friday, 10/9/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 1

-Promo-

Stop it.

I see you. I can see what you're doing clear as day. And even if I didn't ULW's legion of diehard fans will be sitting there all night refreshing the webpages wanting to be the very first to scoop up a little tidbit of news to twist and warp into a clickbait type headline and be the first to toss it up on one of a thousand wrestling news sites.

I get posted with one match up, and by the time the sun rises over the United States of America in a glorious explosion of guns, baseballs, eagles, apple pie, and 72 ounce gas station soda cups that match has somehow mutated into something else entirely.

See in the dark, wee hours of the morning once again I was put in the main event of FUF. And once again not only would I be facing ULW's champion Willow Wilkes, but I would also have the opportunity to get my hands on that little shit Eli Legacy. Eli and I were originally making the tag team main event a trios event.

But once again I get jerked around and tossed into a random three way match constructed without any regard for rhyme, reason, common sense, a decent build, or any sort of motivation for having it.

I mean last time at least there was the minor footnote of League of Superstars points between me and Colton, and also featuring Cameron "The Dick Pickle" MacNichol. This time we don't even have that.

Mr. Bright, Vigilante of Pelor

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" the guard says, sizing me up, "This guy called down some major dark magic. Two of the Watch that brought him in are still under observation. They're sick with..."

He is silent as he looks into my eyes, or tries to. The smoked lenses I wear make the task impossible, which is the entirety of the reason behind wearing them. I can see the doubt on his face. In the months since my unexpected arrival I haven't changed the way I dress in the slightest. Unsaid is the general premise; what kind of an idiot walks around in the middle of the desert with no shirt and heavy plate armor on all four limbs?

"I'm sure. The Church of Kord will take full responsibility for what he does while in my charge." I reply. He sighs and steps down from the front of the prison wagon, leaving the reins in my hands.

"I'll have the wagon back before dawn." I say, getting the horses underway before the question can be raised.

In the back, behind stout iron bars, wrists bound with thick chain, and with a gag stuffed in his mouth is the current front-runner for the annual most-hated man in the city awards. Or he would be, were there such an award.

Argos Kane, heir-apparent to the Kane family trading fortune, has been engaging in some rather unfortunate extra-curricular activities. Dark magic, creation of undead, kidnapping, murder, and a host of other unpleasantness that ruins the appetite to think about.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 9/18/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 1

-Promo-

No one wants to do their fucking job around here. The referees that cannot see, the management won't do anything remotely resembling good business, the booking committee cannot stop changing its fucking mind after the preliminary card already goes out, and the other wrestlers refuse to fucking wrestle real fucking wrestling matches.

I've tried. Goddess knows I've tried so hard to actually go out there and perform the functions of the task for which I am under contract to provide. I was under the impression that professional wrestlers were supposed to be gladiators for a new day and a new age. That they would take part in grand, glorious displays of one on one combat with the purpose of providing bloodsport for the entertainment of the masses.

But it's so difficult to do that when a select minority of one's co-workers holds to the same ideals. They do not want to have fights, they do not want to have battle, they do not want to partake in grand, glorious struggles filled with honor and drama, with both parties through mind, body, and soul into the flames of combat to obtain victory.

No, they simply wish to bypass the whole struggle part and simply be handed glory and victory on a silver fucking platter. I gave Brandon Vow a chance. I gave him an opportunity. I let him have everything he'd need to show the world the truth of his words.

I gave him every chance to claim the title of Dragonslayer. I held back all night. I let him pour everything he had into me and in the end he could not get the job done. When the bell rang, I was not slain. I was standing tall with the object that he had chosen in his feeble attempt to slay me, the object that he had swung with all his strength. The object that failed completely and utterly to do anything more than fuel my rage.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 8/14/15, Kalinda RP 2 of 2

Doom and gloom. A spiral of inevitable decay. A fall from grace. A degradation of humanity from one generation to the next, that sons and daughters will inevitably be lesser than their fathers and mothers. The end times are a comin', the apocalypse draws near! The end is nigh! Repent of your sins, o wayward sheep, and follow me, your shepherd to salvation and enlightenment! Look upon me as I spread my arms wide, simultaneously inviting embrace and deifying myself by taking a pose associated with a god made flesh.

Fill my pockets, ye lost lambs, for in these darkest of days, in these end times there shall soon be no need for worldly goods of the coarsest nature. Armageddon draws near, and as the human race begins its inevitable circling of the drain, money, gold, silver, and jewels will serve you no good.

Coins will not fill your bellies with sustenance and you will be hard pressed to drink dollar bills and stock certificates. I am the way, the truth, and the light. Surrender your worldly goods to a greater good, ascend to a grander glory, and embrace your drawing demise. The darkest days of the world are ahead, days wherein the survivors will be the unfortunate souls and the dead will be envied for their places of rest. Free of pain, free of strife, free of sickness, and free of disease.

Believe in me, follow me, heed my words and I will lead you to salvation. I will lead you to a bigger, better tomorrow. A tomorrow that looks suspiciously like yesterday. A world of wonder and grace that our forefathers had created and that their children and children's children ruined with their wickedness.

Turn away from the present and embrace the past. Reject the false god of change and adaptation. Salvation lies not in turning the eye towards the light of a hopeful future, but instead looking over the shoulder towards the past looked upon through rose colored glasses.

ULW's Fuck'd Up Friday, 8/14/15, Kalinda RP 1 of 2

Today is not going to be a happy day. There isn't going to be very much in the way of happy, playful insults. There will be no making up ridiculous stories regarding my opponent this week and his associates. There won't even be any of the usual lunacy where I pretend he's something that is obviously not real, like an Angel Kash robot, a plant alien with his brains in his armpits, or a mush-mouthed southerner who can't pronounce my name correctly because of the parasitic beard that's latched onto his face and is manipulating his brain via vile tendrils.

Brandon Vow, whose name I will pronounce correctly when he sees fit to get his tongue under control and be able to properly enunciate mine, is someone who needs to be dealt with the utmost seriousness.

Because the potential he has to cause mayhem and pain in ULW is unprecedented. He has the advantage of being in a position where he and his crows are seen as a lesser evil, as a threat that is not quite so dire as New Eden.

And because he hasn't dived into the deep end of wickedness, of supervillain cackling, whip wielding, summoning a gimp masked asshole when the lights are out to interfere in main events, meat curtain flapping, barbed wire noose lynching, Nazis-with-skulls-on-their-uniforms-are-we-the-baddies outright EVIL he comes off as comparatively harmless.

Hell, we agree on a whole lot of things. We both want to shake things up, to rip the corruption out of ULW in the head office and in the locker room. We think that New Eden is a cancer, that der Vaart is an inept, racist, dutch gorilla doing the arm pit fart when he ought to be booking shows and stringing together advertising to promote his company.

You don't have to go very far to see how badly this company is being mismanaged. Of how ULW's nose is being cut off to spite its face. You only need look at how I'm being excluded, isolated, ignored by ULW's media machine.