Koshchei The Immortal
The Lich
The Lich
Koshchei The Immortal
Personal Data
Real Name: Koshchei
Known Aliases: The Lich, The Immortal, The Undying
Age: unknown
Height: unknown
Weight: unknown
Hair Color: unknown
Eye Color: unknown
Biographical Data
Nationality: Russian
Place of Birth: unknown
Base of Operations: unknown
Known Relatives: unknown
Known Powers
As a powerful magus, a lich, and the founder of the Necromancy school, his abilities would be pointless to list. If he engages in spell battle with you, you lose.


Founder of the Necromancy sphere of magic and the first of the Order of the Black.


Excerpt from the Meeting of the Seven:
From the shadows beneath another line of trees, also from the east though much further north, came forth a man… if that is what it could be called. His pale skin was tight across his form, drawn and decaying, giving him a skeletal appearance. His robes were fine, if layered in dust and dirt, and the skin across his hands was so pale his fingers looked like bone. His blue-tinged lips smirked at the others as he approached, but he stopped a polite distance away, and the scent that came from him was the odor of the grave. Koshchei the Immortal, also called the Lich, leered suggestively at Lilith, but made no movement towards her as Baba Yaga cackled. They were old enemies, and sometime allies, but all past grudges were forgotten. His calling was life beyond death, and his continued existence was a testament to his power over the cycle of life.

Once upon a time, when deserts were green and abundant with plants and creatures, when the Nile was still an infant river, when the gods were young and the Pharaohs were not yet born, there was a king, who ruled upon the land which is today Egypt (though it was much vaster at the time). He was a great and beloved king. Under his reign the land prospered and his people lived happily and contentedly. Always the wisest among scholars, and bravest among adventurers, the king held in his hand many knowledge and mysteries, and they brought him immense power, which he in turns used to foster his kingdom. But if there was one flaw to the king, it was that he never married, for there was never a woman that could be his equal.

Then one day she turned up. She was a woman from a foreign land, who sought shelter in his realm on a long journey. She was a woman of beauty, whose eyes were as green as the Sahara jungle (which had grown since the beginning of time) and whose skin was white as the snow on Sinai’s mountain (which was much greater and colder than today). She was a woman of intellect, who had brought with her many tales and secrets of the outside world. And she was, most of all, a woman of power. The moment the king laid eyes on her, his heart was stolen away, and he knew he had met his equal. But when the king finally confessed his love to her, she politely refused and was soon on her way. It was then that the king carved out his heart, which was no longer his. He did not die, of course, for he knew the secret of how not to be dead, but he was no longer truly alive. He put his heart inside an egg, which was imbued with a magic none but himself can open, and threw it into the ocean, after which he summoned the ghosts of the sailors who died at sea to guard it for the rest of time. And then, the king departed.

Koshchei, who was the first among the undead, spent many eras wandered across the land. He traveled northwards, for the cold suited his lifeless body better than tropical heat. When he traveled, he gained much more knowledge, and in turns taught them to those who came to him for enlightenment. But because he had thrown his heart away, he no longer felt love or passion toward anything. Instead, Koshchei was cursed with eternal loneliness for the hole left within him, which he desperately tried to cover by raising the dead to be his companions (he no longer felt comfortable among the living). Nevertheless, he remained a quiet, patient, gentle and extremely powerful being, whom millennia of being undead had given a different, and perhaps wiser, viewpoint of life.

When the end of the age of the Seven drew near, in which some of them would perish and some would go into hiding, Koshchei split what was left of his soul into six pieces, bound them into six different objects placed in six different places and protected them with powerful magic. All of this was so that someday, a worthy successor of his order would retrieve all the objects and bring him together again when his strength and wisdom are needed.

The seventh piece remains forever his heart.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 3.0 License