TOWER OF THE LICHE EMPRESSIt does not die. Despite skin that long ago turned translucent, revealing the atrophied muscle beneath. It does not die. Despite a mind that exists only to ingest forbidden lore of forgotten civilizations. It does not die. Despite dried out eyes and lips shriveled a thousand years hence; despite fingers that shed dust from shrunken joints with every twitch. It does not die. It watches. It waits. And, slowly, its plans begin to take hold. How do you