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Old 06-04-2019, 01:43 AM
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Karhald Karhald is offline
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Last Visit: 10-13-2019
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Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald Karhald
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NPC Background: How did the evil wizard get so strong?

A little bit of writing:

He was old, but still quite spry, as evidenced by how easily he stood from his comfortable chair to check on the bubbling tubes and beakers at one of his many workbenches. The grey beard, bushy eyebrows, conical blue hat with whimsical white stars sewn into it. He seemed a caricature of an ancient being of great arcane power, but his eyes spoke another story, one of cold calculation, one of greed, one of a desire for power. Only his apprentice had seen those eyes before, for when Relan the Diviner spoke with strangers, he adopted the act of the aloof mystic, the magical genius who could barely keep his notes together.

No, it was a mere act, one cultivated over decades of 'service' to the townsfolk, so that he would be well-regarded, but still slightly feared. Who knew what strange experiments an eccentric old 'fool' would perform. But he still had callers, just customers looking for magical gear or simple services, these customers kept his pockets filled with gems, and his shelves stocked with rare and powerful reagents.

Satisfied with the progress of his experiment, he sat down, snapped his fingers, and the teapot floated over to fill his cup. After taking a sip, he looked up, eyes filled with malice and with a grin of power and greed.

"So, you've done well enough in your studies, apprentice. Shall I finally tell you about how I became so powerful? Was it adventure, you wonder? Did I slay a dragon? Save a princess? Ha! no, nothing so foolishly reckless. I started, the way you are starting now. As a young mageling with a few arcane tricks at my disposal."

He pointed to the mortar and pestle on the table, and it began to work on its own, crushing and grinding a small pearl into dust.

"It was simple enough, really, I knew the Detect Magic spell and the Identify spell, and those filthy adventurers were always coming around with bags of garbage they picked off of dead goblins or orcs or any other sort of filth they were laying around in that day. Disgusting. But, they came with coin. So I would cast detect magic, find out if there was anything of value within the piles of refuse, and then spend the rest of the day identifying the one or two items that bore the touch of culture and pedigree. I, of course, charged top coin for this as well. By the time I was twenty, I was already the richest man in town."

He put down his tea cup and saucer, then snapped his fingers, summoning a sheaf of parchments into his hands. Price lists.

"Oh, they would haggle and whinge over the price, so I just raised my initial prices and let them haggle me down to something that was still higher than my usual price. They felt like they got the better end of the deal. Fools. And if they just paid the price I demanded, well, better for me anyway. "

He chuckled, snapped his fingers again, and the papers disappeared.

"After a few years of this, in addition to my regular studies and practices, I had become rather adept at the arcane arts, and built up a fair bit of wealth taken from these muck-licking glorified trash collectors. So, I started buying up ancient and unique materials and began the fine art of artificing. Many a magic item I had made, and every last one I sold (at great profit, mind you) to the never-ending horde of feces-sodden violent vagabonds. How they amassed as much coin, I'll never know, nor will I care, for when those unwashed louts came knocking on my door, all of my prices doubled."



"Soon, they were asking me for greater and more powerful services and spells, which, by then, I was capable of after so much practice and study. And so I sold even more overpriced services. I would even tell them that they needed expensive reagents that they needed to supply before I would cast these powerful spells, even if it didn't require such. The troglodytes didn't know any better, so they would supply me with an endless river of gems and precious reagents. Ha! It was too easy."

Relan gestured to the chests brimming with gold, jewelry and gems. They were an illusion, of course, but they represented his true wealth, wherever in his tower the treasures were hidden.

"So, young apprentice, that is how I sit upon the top floor of this magical tower, surrounded by ancient and powerful dwoemers, after decades of research, practice, and selling simple tricks to the reeking dullards who call themselves, 'adventurers'. Not once have I needlessly risked my neck, and yet I have grown more powerful than any of those fast-tracking adventure-seeking bush-league magelings who think they are so grand for surviving long enough to learn something as pathetically simple as a fireball. Ba! Fools.
This lesson also serves you, apprentice, to understand the great wealth and power you can achieve by not going out and getting skewered on the end of an orc's spear, and becoming their next meal. No, slow down, master your cantrips, and in due time, you'll have built up a similarly grand fortress of arcane miracles as I have. Now, leave me and return to your studies, I have an undead army to finish raising up. Imagine the looks on those pigs faces when they realize their favorite wizard is also the means to their destruction. Oh, I'm laughing already."
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