>>63117657I believe I've never formally written down for you guys, so... (Warning, might be long)
I was born sometime in ancient times. When exactly? That's not important. Bottom line is, I was born with a special talent for magic, and a penchant for entertaining others with my craft. My parents had given me some pointers, too: especially my father, the court mortician: he was a necromancer in secret, and taught me the basics of this forbidden craft to stoke my future success... and maybe inspire my greatest project.
I studied magic, went to academies, reached the highest ranks, and spent a while in bard college too (why not?). I became an esteemed scholar, a valued mage with great power and even greater aspìrations. It didn't take long until I became the court wizard of my time.
My tenure was long and fruitful. My relationship with the crown and the locals was casual, but sincere: my tricks and lessons were widely appreciated by those who would listen. I would advise the crown from time to time as well. I was having a lot of fun bringing smiles to people -- maybe too much fun! But, no matter how much power I held... I knew it wouldn't last forever.
I grew old. Older than most should. Children would now mock and deride me for my long, white beard -- which even reached the floor -- and my tired, glossy eyes, yet as long as there were smiles on their faces, what did it matter? But the trouble came when I felt myself dying. That primordial fear that hits all of us shortly before our demises showed its shadow at my doorstep. Yet... I didn't want the fun to end. I COULDN'T let the fun end. And even more... I had the power to prevent my untimely demise.
To avoid the watchful eye of the court, I built a massive tower at the edge of the world. I conducted my experiments there, remembering my late father's teachings -- where he couldn't go, I knew I had to. Maaaybe I collected a corpse here and there, reanimated a skeleton or two, accidentally made a zombie or rattled a spectre -- what does it matter, anyway? By combining my alchemical knowledge with the wicked teachings of necromancy, I transmuted a source of infinite youth... in the digestible shape of a tasty pasta dish from a few kingdoms away.
It would've killed a lesser man to eat it, but upon ingesting the lasagna, I swiftly started to regain my youth! It was a miracle, a wonder! I couldn't be happier. But part of me feared returning to court after my short absence. I could've just hid there and disappeared, yet...
I went in for a final day. I wanted to teach and entertain those around me, but instead, their initial surprise turned to what I could only assume to be existential fear. The sitting king, who wasn't as fond of me as his father was, had me immediately tried for my wrongdoings by the Council of Mages. Tch, they're no fun, are they? As I was too powerful to be executed -- and frankly, not someone to be trifled with -- the Council convened on my punishment being eternal exile to my own tower, one that I swore not to break -- as frankly, I highly doubt they have the power to keep me cooped up in here against my will!
I grew bored. Bored, and frustrated. I could conjure familiars to entertain me, or simply watch the birds outside, hear the waves roar at the cliffs below the tower... but none of that could match the smiles of those I would mesmerise with my spells and enthusiasm. I would age, rejuvenate, age again, rejuvenate once more, grow old yet again and finally regress into a child-like state all over again as I looked across worlds to search for my next audience...
Until I found all of YOU!
I am boundlessly thankful for the day I reached into your dimension, my apprentices! Will you keep this old wizard company just a little longer?
