This place—for it does not seem to be a “room” in any normal sense of
the word—is at once vast and finite. A cylindrical space two hundred
feet in diameter yet trailing into the infinite above, the smoky white
walls of this shaft churn and spiral about as if this were the eye of a vast storm. Faces and twisted figures are apparent in that smoke, constantly stretched and mangled by the violence as they are spun in endless circles.
The floor of the place is of stone, but spiraling and curving channels
have been carved into it. Sixteen ghostly flames burn around the place’s
perimeter, while at its center stands a glowing pool of shimmering blue
waters. Low stone walls divide the pool into sections, while at the center, floating five feet above a central platform in the middle of the well of water, is a bluish-purple almond-shaped crystal, a ring of gold carved with runes encircling it and a second ring constricting its middle like a belt. Blue smoke writhes around the crystal, and a red glowing rune winks from the central band.
Karzough floats forty feet above the central platform, his eyes open as you approach and he smiles. Azalia and Marten can see him bristling with magical energy, more than either have ever seen in one place. As he speaks each of your hear the words in your native language though it is clear from the movement of his mouth some magic is at work. "You have my thanks little interlopers. Though I feared for the briefest of moments you might disrupt my plans your efforts have expedited my return."
"With each one of my agents that bore my mark you slew... you sent their soul to bring about my restoration. And you have slain so many. I am so close to achieving my full return. No more intermediaries it will just be me, versus your ruined and fragmented world. No other Runelords to oppose me, no Azlanti, no serpentfolk, no one to oppose me... all that stands between me and the acquisition of the world is you wretches. What pass for heroes in this misbegotten age. But before you die you have my thanks." He sneers at you from above, so confident in his abilities.
Anneka
Marten
Drazh
Azalia
Karzoug
Ferocia
Anneka stumbles a moment, internally grappling for coherence as the strangeness of this... place settles upon her.
She notes the tortured faces wafting in and out of view within the smoke beyond the boundaries. Are these the faces of Karzough's innumerable victims? Of ours?. The thought, and the surge of adrenaline, renew her resolve.
Karzough, of course, needs no introduction. He is both terribly loathsome, and terribly beautiful. She peers across the space at his lips, struggling to read them across the distance. She gasps in surprise as a voice echoes between her ears, seeming to translate a clear mismatch between the movement of his mouth and the words.
She'll need to be especially vigilant now. The wizards have shown themselves to be duplicitous, and here they meet the wizard king himself. With no hearing to warn of her danger to herself or her companions, her eyes and instincts are more important than ever.
"A pretty bird, trapped in a gilded cage," she says boldly. She thinks of her pigeons and knitting needles. With great satisfaction, she imagines a giant needle impaling Karzough straight through the breast of his fine robes. "This is going to hurt. Quite a lot, I hope."
A spell, then, to sharpen the "needle". A wave of her hand, and a field of static energy charges the air around her friends. Colors become more vibrant, muscles tense in anticipation, and a thrill at one last kill, one final murder, takes hold.
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Annika’s hands continue to their path tracing a complex gesture. A soft mist begins to caress the ground at her feet.
"Marvelous," Marten murmurs as he enters this cylindrical realm. He'd like to say more, but Karzoug's monologue clues him into the importance of addressing this threat.
We'll need to spread out, Marten signs to the others in Varisian Sign Language before finishing aloud, "but we should get closer to him first. Join hands."
Marten casts dimension door, bringing the entire party to Karzoug's rear, right next to the glowing pool.
"Nalfeshnee! I call in your debt!"
When the boar-headed demon appears, Marten points to the flying Runelord and calmly states, "Kill that one."
Once his allies and his temporary thrall are set in motion, Marten spares a glance at the glowing crystal and the runes upon it.
Using her Runeforged bow, she shoots at the
(fervor, rapid shot)
(acid, v. evil)
(extra attack from rapid shot)
(normal second attack)
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Anneka stumbles a moment, internally grappling for coherence as the strangeness of this... place settles upon her.
She notes the tortured faces wafting in and out of view within the smoke beyond the boundaries. Are these the faces of Karzough's innumerable victims? Of ours?. The thought, and the surge of adrenaline, renew her resolve.
Karzough, of course, needs no introduction. He is both terribly loathsome, and terribly beautiful. She peers across the space at his lips, struggling to read them across the distance. She gasps in surprise as a voice echoes between her ears, seeming to translate a clear mismatch between the movement of his mouth and the words.
She'll need to be especially vigilant now. The wizards have shown themselves to be duplicitous, and here they meet the wizard king himself. With no hearing to warn of her danger to herself or her companions, her eyes and instincts are more important than ever.
"A pretty bird, trapped in a gilded cage," she says boldly. She thinks of her pigeons and knitting needles. With great satisfaction, she imagines a giant needle impaling Karzough straight through the breast of his fine robes. "This is going to hurt. Quite a lot, I hope."
A spell, then, to sharpen the "needle". A wave of her hand, and a field of static energy charges the air around her friends. Colors become more vibrant, muscles tense in anticipation, and a thrill at one last kill, one final murder, takes hold.
Blessing of fervor
Annika’s hands continue to their path tracing a complex gesture. A soft mist begins to caress the ground at her feet.
"Marvelous," Marten murmurs as he enters this cylindrical realm. He'd like to say more, but Karzoug's monologue clues him into the importance of addressing this threat.
We'll need to spread out, Marten signs to the others in Varisian Sign Language before finishing aloud, "but we should get closer to him first. Join hands."
Marten casts dimension door, bringing the entire party to Karzoug's rear, right next to the glowing pool. "Low stone walls" implies we can just step over them?
I've taken the liberty of moving the party on the map.
"Nalfeshnee! I call in your debt!"
When the boar-headed demon appears, Marten points to the flying Runelord and calmly states, "Kill that one." While it tries it's best the daemon fails to land even a single blow.
When all you have is a hammer, every problem is a nail. Unable to reach the runelord, Drazh swung his runeforged hammer at the crystal. What would it do? He had no idea! But he was going to find out... the crystal cracks just a little.
Using her Runeforged bow, she shoots at Karzoug. One of the arrow finds it's way past Karzougs defences.
Karzough steps back slightly before summoning four meteors into existence sending them crashing down amongst the group.
Karzough then uses his rod to cast a quickened spell.
[spoiler=GM Notes: True Seeing, Spell turning, Globe of Invulnerability, Stoneskin, Cloudkill[/spoiler]
Karzoug is suddenly standing in a slightly different pose, his skin seemingly made of stone and he is surrounded by a shimmering sphere. A cloud cloud of yellow fox billows around your group where a heartbeat before the air was clear.
Karzoug continues to enjoy the sound of his own voice. "Children, your gesticulations hide no secrets from me apprentice. Such feeble knowledge is of little interest. With your deaths I shall return to the Material Plane. I will reach across time to reclaim my Empire. Xin Shalast shall be reborn and your wretched world will cower."
Ferocia
Anneka
Marten
Drazh
Azalia
Karzoug -16 Soul Lens -33
Azalia casts Fly on Drazh
With an snarl, Ferocia dashes forward, giving her body a shake as she sprouts feathers and becomes....
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...a Large feathered owl. She flies through the air, right at Karzoug, urged forward at high speeds thanks to Anneka's magic. She rakes at Karzoug's face...
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The shockwave of the meteors sends her reeling, but not before her barbed devil erupts from the smoke beside her. It lifts a claw and fires two scorching rays at Karzoug.
Anneka's hands gesture in a blur as she summons two successive waves of positive energy to mend the burns of herself and her companions.
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"Ottiluke!" Marten shouts as the Karzoug's fiery meteors are summoned above the party. A resilient sphere encircles the wizard, but one of the flaming rocks reaches him before the sphere completely materializes.
However, Anneka's positive energy can't pass through his sphere, so he digs a potion of cure serious wounds from his handy haversack and hastily drinks it. He sputters and nearly chokes as a sudden realization comes to him.
"Drazh! That crystal! It gathers souls! It must be what is powering his restoration!"
The Nalfeshnee's eyes widen at this interesting fact, but they do not stop with their contractually obligated attacks.
With an snarl, Ferocia dashes forward, giving her body a shake as she sprouts feathers and becomes... a Large feathered owl. She flies through the air, right at Karzoug, urged forward at high speeds thanks to Anneka's magic. She rakes at Karzoug's face her talons missing him by just a hair.
The shockwave of the meteors sends her reeling, but not before her barbed devil erupts from the smoke beside her. It lifts a claw and fires two scorching rays at Karzoug. A shimmering sphere dissipates the magical energies leaving him unharmed.
Anneka's hands gesture in a blur as she summons two successive waves of positive energy to mend the burns of herself and her companions.
"Ottiluke!" Marten shouts as the Karzoug's fiery meteors are summoned above the party. A resilient sphere encircles the wizard, but one of the flaming rocks reaches him before the sphere completely materializes.
Marten takes 5+20 damage. Not bothering with the Reflex save because Marten can't pass it. The bottom of his force sphere is now covered in rubble. What a mess.
However, Anneka's positive energy can't pass through his sphere, so he digs a potion of cure serious wounds from his handy haversack and hastily drinks it. He sputters and nearly chokes as a sudden realization comes to him.
"Drazh! That crystal! It gathers souls! It must be what is powering his restoration!"
The Nalfeshnee's eyes widen at this interesting fact, but they do not stop with their contractually obligated attacks.
Azalia casts Fly on Drazh
Drazh laughed as Azalia’s shadow engulfed him. Now, where he stepped, shadows formed under his feet, allowing him to run in any direction. Charging at the runelord, Drazh raised him hammer and swung it, glad to finally be able to get into hammer range of the villain.
Karzoug looks at the wounds inflicted by Drazh, he floats higher and pulls components from his spell pouch, his hand thrums with arcane energy.
"You must succeed on a melee touch attack. You place the subject into a state of suspended animation. For the creature, time ceases to flow, and its condition becomes fixed. The creature does not grow older. Its body functions virtually cease, and no force or effect can harm it. This state persists until the magic is removed (such as by a successful dispel magic spell or a freedom spell)."
Ferocia
Anneka
Marten
Drazh
Azalia
Karzoug -73. Stoneskin 130/150 Soul Lens -33
Seeing that his demon hireling is unlikely to land a blow on Karzoug, Marten redirects it.
"Nalfeshnee! Destroy the crystal and our contract will be met! He will not be able to rise again!"
With a snarl at the Runelord, the boar-headed demon drops down to the crystal and tries to destroy it.
Spying the arcane energy surrounding Karzoug's hand from inside his resilient sphere, Marten calls out, "If he touches you with that spell, you're out of the fight! But if he can't reach anybody, he'll lose the spell if he casts another one!"
Not entirely satisfied with his role in this battle so far, Marten snatches another cure serious wounds potion from his handy haversack and drinks it.
Azalia shoots at the crystal with her Runeforged bow.
(fervor, rapid shot)
(acid, v. evil)
(extra attack from rapid shot)
(normal second attack)
As Karzoug flies away from her, Ferocia makes a quick swipe at him with her talons. (Attack of Opportunity)
Since he's moved out of reach again, Ferocia soars after him, rakes at him with her talons, and keeps flying on past.
...Horribly missing with a one on the dice!
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As Karzoug flies away from her, Ferocia makes a quick swipe at him with her talons. (Attack of Opportunity)
Since he's moved out of reach again, Ferocia soars after him, rakes at him with her talons, and keeps flying on past.
Seeing that his demon hireling is unlikely to land a blow on Karzoug, Marten redirects it
"Nalfeshnee! Destroy the crystal and our contract will be met! He will not be able to rise again!" With a snarl at the Runelord, the boar-headed demon drops down to the crystal and tries to destroy it.
While the outsider unleashes it's fury it is unable to even scratch the soul lens!
Spying the arcane energy surrounding Karzoug's hand from inside his resilient sphere, Marten calls out, "If he touches you with that spell, you're out of the fight! But if he can't reach anybody, he'll lose the spell if he casts another one!" Not entirely satisfied with his role in this battle so far, Marten snatches another cure serious wounds potion from his handy haversack and drinks it.
"Well fook." Drazh said. It wasn't like he could really flee. So he did what any good dwarf would do...he stood his ground and swung away with his hammer. Because when all you had was a hammer, then every problem (to include an angry runelord) was a nail... only a single blow landed but it was solid.
Azalia shoots at the crystal with her Runeforged bow.
Anneka's summoned barbed devil's magic is outmatched once again.
Anneka's hands gesture in a blur as she summons two successive waves of positive energy to mend the burns of herself and her companions.
With a look of smug superiority Karzoug reaches out to tip his finger off Drazh...
...his finger comes within a hairs breath... Drazh knows he likely wont be that lucky again. Still it might just be worth it to see the look of rage up close on the Runelord's face
Ferocia
Anneka
Marten
Drazh
Azalia
Karzoug -154. Stoneskin 100/150 Soul Lens -33
Heeding Marten's warning, Ferocia keeps out of Karzoug's reach, swooping toward him, driving her talons into his back, and continuing on past.
Azalia shoots at the crystal again with her Runeforged bow.
(fervor, rapid shot)
(acid, v. evil)
(extra attack from rapid shot)
(normal second attack)
While the outsider unleashes it's fury it is unable to even scratch the soul lens!
"You useless retch!" Marten shouts at the Nalfshanee. "DO SOMETHING!"
With a terrible roar directed in equal parts at the crystal in front of him, the wizard floating above him, and the wizard shouting at him from across the room, the demon looks upwards and snarls something incomprehensible yet arcane sounding. A bolt of lightning streaks down, passes through the Runelord and into the crystal.
Marten takes his own advice and dismisses the resilient sphere from himself , retrieves a handful of dweomer's essence from his handy haversack , and casts a Heightened cold ice strike at the Runelord.
Heeding Marten's warning, Ferocia keeps out of Karzoug's reach, swooping toward him, driving her talons into his back, and continuing on past. His magical defenses leave her with only cloth clutched in her talons however.
"You useless retch!" Marten shouts at the Nalfshanee. "DO SOMETHING!"
With a terrible roar directed in equal parts at the crystal in front of him, the wizard floating above him, and the wizard shouting at him from across the room, the demon looks upwards and snarls something incomprehensible yet arcane sounding. A bolt of lightning streaks down, passes through the Runelord and into the crystal. The crystal is unharmed and while Karzoug avoids the worst of the damage he is definitely hurt.
Marten takes his own advice and dismisses the resilient sphere from himself standard action, retrieves a handful of dweomer's essence from his handy haversack move action, and casts a Heightened cold ice strike swift action at the Runelord.
Drazh's face went pale as he just *barely* managed to escape the runelord's grasp. Fight or flight kicked in, and the dwarf chose to fight. His hammer moved in a flash, as he attacked again, and again, and again...
Azalia shoots at the crystal again with her Runeforged bow leaving a few cracks in it...
Karzoug collapses... magical energy flares around him slowing his fall and then turns him into mist.
Ferocia
Anneka
Marten
Drazh
Azalia
Karzoug -278. Stoneskin 100/150 Soul Lens -75
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With Karzoug suddenly mist and Ferocia relatively certain her talons don't hurt clouds, she turns her focus to the crystal. She flies over to it at attacks with her talons.
Azalia shoots at the crystal.
(fervor, rapid shot)
(acid, v. evil)
(extra attack from rapid shot)
(normal second attack)
I have some empty vials. If we scoop up some of his essence and stopper it up, will that prevent him from coming back to life?
"So long as you leave the vials here, I suppose. It would be foolish to bring any part of him out of this place. But this crystal and its gathering of souls is what's fueling his resurrection! We need to destroy it so that he can no longer harness its energies!
"Only Azalia has managed to harm it," Marten spares a dismissive glance for the Nalfshanee, "so perhaps it can only be damaged by your Runeforged weapons."
Later, after the crystal is destroyed , if the Nalfshanee is still nearby, Marten turns to address it.
"Oh. You're still here. You can go, I suppose. Contract fulfilled and all that." He makes an exaggerated, yet sloppy mimic of a signature in front of him.
As Karzoug is dealt a mortal blow a blinding flash of light is release. Yet this blast of soul energy is not completely destructive—the energy immediately heals all damage and cures all debilitating conditions (including death) suffered by any creature in the runewell.
You find yourselves back where the portal that brought you to Karzoug was... now the area seems empty.
The ioun stones implanted in his body have shattered and are useless
Rod of greater quicken metamagic
Wand of blood money* (33 charges)
Wand of dispel magic (CL 10th, 40 charges)
Wand of magic missile (CL 9th, 24 charges)
Wand of stoneskin (CL 10th, 16 charges)
Karzoug’s burning glaive
[spiler=Talons of Leng]
Aura strong transmutation; CL 15th
Slot gloves; Price 67,000 gp; Weight 1 lb.
DESCRIPTION
finely laid gold filigree lines these ornately worked gloves. Once worn, the talons of Leng grant the wearer two natural claw attacks, both with a +3 enhancement bonus on attack rolls and damage. a hit from one of the talons inflicts 1d4 points of damage. On a critical hit, the talons inflict ×3 damage, and force the victim to make a DC 20 Will save. failing this save renders the target permanently insane (as per the spell insanity), while success leaves the target confused for 1 round. This is a mind-affecting effect.
The wearer of the talons of Leng is immune to the spells confusion
and insanity, and any ability that produces similar effects. for as long
as he wears the talons, however, his Wisdom is reduced by 2, as alien
voices constantly whisper through his head.
The talons of Leng do not interfere with spellcasting, the use of
handheld items, or wielding other weapons (though a wielder cannot
make an attack with a claw that’s holding another weapon or item). If the wielder attacks only with the talons, they are treated as a primary attack, but if he attacks with a weapon or other natural attack, the claws are treated as secondary attacks and suffer a –5 penalty to their attack roll.[/spoiler]
Belt of strength +6 Dexterity +6
Minor artifact
Aura strong transmutation; CL 16th
Slot —; Price —; Weight 1 lb.
DESCRIPTION
A useful lesser artifact said to have been crafted by a dragon in the service of Emperor Xin, the Sihedron tome holds infinite pages for wizards to inscribe spells upon. In addition to potentially holding libraries worth of arcane knowledge, any wizard who prepares spells from the Sihedron Tome may prepare bonus spells as if his Intelligence were 6 points higher. This is not an actual bonus to Intelligence and grants the user no additional benefit.
Aura strong abjuration and conjuration; CL 16th
Slot robe; Price 198,000 gp; Weight 1 lb.
DESCRIPTION
The robes of Xin’Shalast grant a +6 armor bonus and spell resistance 24.
fashioned for an archmage, the robes are also meant to aid and accentuate their wearer’s spellcasting ability. Thus, the robes cause the wearer to cast all spells at +1 caster level, while two of the robe’s pockets function as handy haversacks. The wearer of these robes is immune to the effects of the occluding field that surrounds the Spires of Xin-Shalast, and can exist comfortably in all high altitudes, including within the death zone.
Ring of protection +5,
Ring of freedom of movement
ruby inscribed with the rune of wrath worth 1,000 gp (focus for sign
of wrath)
Ruby dust worth 1,500 gp
Azalia looks over the loot with an appraising eye, and although she admires the robe and so many other things, wishing she could have it all, she knows she needs to relax and let the others have a turn as well. She selects the belt from the pile, dropping her old one into the portable hole with the rest of the older gear .
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With the Runelord finally dead, Drazh quietly picked up the mage's amulet. He regarded it thoughtfully, admiring the craftsmanship of it. At last he put it around his neck. "Something to remember this all by." He said. "Everyone should take something." He nodded to Azalia who was already putting on a belt. "This victory belongs to all of us." He said with a grin.
------------
Their adventure had come to an end. There of course had been more to the story, after the Runelord had died. They had to get out of Xin-Shalast, afterall. And they had to do so with as much of the vast wealth that they could carry. It was a monumental task, made much easier thanks to the group having an Archmage, a rogue of legendary skill, an oracle who could command shadows, and a shapeshifter. Well, Drazh was there too, and he happily carried as much as he could. While weighed down considerably, there are few sights in the world quite like a dwarf who could barely walk due to all of the gold and gems in his possession.
Drazh found himself obscenely wealthy, and with enough time on his hands to truly perfect his craftsmanship. It was thus that he returned to Grung Varn. Before the tragedy that had claimed much of his clan, it had been his home. It was a place which contained some of his best, and worst, memories. Using his vast wealth, he contracted dwarves from far and wide to come to his old home. It was drained of water, and it was rebuilt. No longer was it a small village. Instead, it became great tower that rose up by the water.
Once Drazh had been filled with maddening rage. Rage at the loss of his home. Rage at the murder of his wife. Rage at himself for not being able to stop either. What he wanted, after their great adventure, was a return to the peace that he had known before. He wanted to hear the sound of hammer on anvil, not on shield. He wanted to hear the sounds of breaking rocks, not bones. And he did not want to be alone. Using his wealth, he attracted settlers to come and fill the tower above and tunnels below. He spent gold like water, and so it flowed. By the time his vision was finished, he had created for himself a home that was filled with families, and which contained all that he needed to devote himself to the making of items infused with magic.
Word spread, of course. Of the tower of Grung Varn. Of how it was filled with not just dwarven axes and magical traps, but rooms that were filled from floor to ceiling with gold coins. Of how rare gems were so common that they were used for door knobs. This attracted unsavory types, to be sure. But the worst of these raids died off when the few survivors limped away. Drazh was happy. He had built for himself the life that he had hoped to lead with his wife, Brunhilda. His home was safe, he was well respected, and he had both the time, and the money, to do what mattered to him. In time, he even remarried and had a child. He named his daughter Brunhilda. For all of his wealth, she was the greatest treasure that his tower held.
There were, of course, a few adventures left in store for him. His craftsmanship sometimes required rare materials, for which he more than once sought out Azalia's help. Given the shop she ran, and the resources at her command, there was little that was beyond her reach. He also had to seek out Arika, rushing towards her in all haste, after having made a drunken bet regarding the quality of her pastries, causing him to need enough to feed his entire tower within a month. Furthermore, in a fit of boredom, he had bribed his way into one of Professor Daseto classes, and took a seat at the very front of the class. He had even sought out Ferocia, asking the dwarf to come visit his tower, given that he at least had the sense of mind to know that offering her a room would not have been taken well. Still, he had one made for her, at the top of the tower. Far away from the noise and hustle from down below. A room with a view that could look down over the lake, and all of the natural land beyond, should he ever manage to find her to make the offer.
But for all of those 'adventures', nothing arose like the great quest to destroy the Runelord and save the world. But that was fine. Because while the world would certainly need saving again, he was content to let some other hero do it.
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Azalia spends a long time filling up the portable hole and all the containers that she can find with wealth, and finds a good teleportation spot as close as possible so she can come back and fill up again.
Much later, when the effort of looting isn't worth the payoff anymore, she wandered off to the town that Drazh was building, and got his help with constructing a large Magical Odds and Ends store where she collected, made, and sold cheap magical items for adventurers. She lived above the shop, with a large vault built under the store and several huge back rooms with less mundane items. She invited Marten to set up the magical wards and protections on the whole thing, for of course he was better at such things than she was.
Perhaps she wasn't exactly law-abiding all the time, but the real law around here was Drazh, and he knew her, so there wasn't likely to be trouble.
Living and studying there made her happy, but every now and again she would go off in search of another rumored magical item that she hadn't had the chance to study yet, so that she could learn further secrets and create her own items.
Over the years she found it amusing to sell special items to certain young adventurers that she took a liking to. She made magical items that on the surface seemed very mundane, but had interesting extra abilities that would pop up when they were in need, and enjoyed seeing several of them come back with stories about the Anytool that turned into a silver sword in the presence of werewolves, or the sleeves of many garments that seemed to also protect the user from fiery breath weapons.
She was an elf. She was going to live a very long time, and she enjoyed perfecting her craft and gathering a following of grateful young adventurers who were worth hanging out with. She may not be accepted by her own, but she had built a place for herself in the world that made her happy, and which also helped other people. That was success.
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Ferocia shed her feathers like a tree sheds its autumn leaves and stood over Karzoug's personal treasures, a dwarf once more. She had little interest in his baubles, but at Drazh's words she paused, eventually picking up two rings and slipping them onto her fingers.
Days pass, and as the others worry over gold and gems and ancient magic, Ferocia watches the people from the skies and from the shadows. They were leaving the ancient city of Xin-Shalast without a ruler, and that meant it was filled with both chaos and promise. It could become anything, under the leadership of anyone, and she wanted to make sure that whoever claimed it wouldn't march another army down the mountain. And so she stalked the city streets and mountain peaks in one of her many animal guises, or else wrapped in the fur of her yeti cloak, yearning for peace and quiet but begrudgingly doing what needed to be done.
In time, she returned to Sandpoint with her companions, stopping only long enough to drop a bag of gold off at her parent's house. It was enough to buy them a fine house, as well as each of her siblings. To buy a business or retire. To live however they pleased. And still they complained, jealous over the wealth that her companions displayed and assuming she was hoarding more from them. She wasn't, but she didn't bother to explain. She was done with them, and was moving on.
She helped the others for a time, Drazh with his tower, Azalia with her shop, Marten with his... well, she wan't much good to Marten at all, really, but she soared by from time to time to listen to him lecture. And she visited Anneka for her tasty treats.
But as the years rolled on she withdrew, slipping away into the woods for longer and longer. Years and on into decades.
She returned to the Shimmerglens where she had been raised in Myriana's court. She stayed for a time, coming to remember all those familiar faces she had forgotten. She explored the wilds and the woods, and even found her way into the riotous First World. But life among the fey proved too bright, too vibrant, too loud.
She longed for peace and quiet, and she did not find it there.
And so Ferocia returned to the home of her friends, in Grung Varn. She was surprised to find that Drazh was old by then—her time in the First World had changed her, and she wasn't entirely mortal anymore. She never stayed long, but stay she did, finally occupying the home Drazh had built for her at the top of his tower—she became the monster that haunted the upper reaches of Grung Varn and the stranger that came by to eat pastries with Azalia in her magic shop.
When Drazh passed on she stayed around the town longer, sure to keep a distant eye on his daughter. Drazh would never forgive her if something happened to Brunhild and when she one day met him in the afterlife, she wanted him to know she had tried.
Eventually the day came when Ferocia too passed on from this world, and the tower of Grung Varn was no longer haunted by her monstrous shadow, and Azalia's shop no longer smelt of bear claws and sweets. She returned to the earth, and finally found quiet. And she was at peace.
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"That was ridiculous," Marten grouses to the others as they emerge from Karzoug's demi-soul-plane. "All that arcane knowledge and that's the best he could manage? I had no idea the ancient Azlantis were so primitive! Very eye-opening!"
Marten is ready to head back to Korvosa, but seems just as ready to grumble when he's overruled that Drazh and Azalia want to first strip the ancient city of its wealth. He protests a bit about things like "historical significance," but in the end he assists with his teleportation magic so that the five adventurers return to civilization fabulously wealthy. The others seem content to move on with their lives, whether ambitious or humble, putting the battle with the ancient Runelord behind them.
But not Marten.
He told everyone what had happened. Throughout the hallowed halls of the Acadamae, to the high society of Korvosa and Magnimar, and even the busy streets of Sandpoint, it was known that Professor Desato and his companions ended the threat of the ancient Runelord Karzoug for Varisia, Avistan, and beyond.
Regularly sporting the gaudy robe over his black suit that he plucked off of the misty corpse of Karzough, he lectured about ancient Thassilonian magicks at the Acadamae, even hosting field trips to Xin-Shalast for those students capable of providing their own spells enabling them to survive in that extreme climate. Aside from those ancient spires, students were eager to see the giant wildlife that seemed to single out their Professor. A giant owl would sometimes swoop by incredibly close to ruffle his hair; or a large moose would appear from around a corner to roughly nudge him from behind; once there was even a sighting of dire monkey howling at him from a window on high. The most bewildering aspect of those encounters was that the cantankerous wizard never seemed to mind. He'd just shake his head in annoyance and chuckle.
Back in the wizard college itself, Marten's lectures were notoriously popular, but none moreso than when a dwarven "visiting lecturer" from Grung Varn would show, nearly always leading an uproarious debate between the two concerning the magic of the mind and the magic in the dwarf's arms as he tossed Marten's desk across the room. The debates were never civil, but Professor Desato was usually in a great mood for days afterwards.
But not all of Marten's time was spent at the Acadamae. Few know that he diverted much of his time to more focused tutoring of his brother's childen. His nephew never developed a passion for arcane magic, but that didn't bother Marten. The lad was bright and learned according to his passions. The two were very fond of each other. However, Marten's niece became his pride and joy. She had the knack for wizardry, and Marten would regually assure her that there was nothing better for her magical education than her uncle's arcane attention. Even his brother's wife came around to appreciating her brother-in-law. She, Marten's brother, and Marten spent many a late night in that house with a drink in hand talking about the news of Sandpoint and beyond.
While in Sandpoint, Marten would often visit Anneka to talk to express his concern about her growing predilection for shadow magic and with Azalia to check on the magical wards he placed there. Both of them realized, however, that these were just Marten's stunted attempts at being social.
He would assure Azalia that his wards would last for 100 years... and that he would renew those wards then. She didn't think much of his boasting until the day 100 years later when he showed up to do just that. He certainly looked older, but certainly not 100 years older. When asked how he was not dead, Marten's only response was an arrogant chuckle before responding, "I'm not planning on dying anytime soon."
Following his goodbye with an arcane murmur, Marten returned to his own pocket plane of existence. Time flows differently here, slower. It buys him time. He knows that the arcane secret of immortality exists. He spends most of his time on this plane where his aging is slower so that he can research. He knows that he's close to learning the secret of everlasting life. If that fool Karzoug could jury-rig a way to traverse time, Marten should be able to divine the secrets of living through all of it!
He knows that he's close to immortality. So close.