Rising for thousands of feet above a region of deserted villages and crumbling castles, seemingly untouched by the passage of time, this scintillatingly untouched symbol of ancient decadence is the brainchild of the delusional illusionist Akka DeMeeya (female human lich wizard 10/loremaster 1), a noble inheritrix from the early days of humanity, who bankrupted her father's once-prosperous kingdom in order to build a fastness in which she could retreat from the world, leaving her overtaxed populace to starve without either leadership or magical assistance from herself.
Akka never chose to become a lich, and in fact never took conscious action to prolong her life; her state is a consequence of having become completely detached from all reality, withering away through simple lack of human contact until all that was left of her was dead-white parchment-like skin stretched tautly over clattering bones. Her only social grace is a rigid adherence to codes of social protocol rooted in the cultural norms of a long-dead civilization, from an age when life was cheap and formalities were necessary to prevent wars from being declared at every misunderstanding; these rules of etiquette make no sense in any modern context, and it's all but impossible to have a peaceful interaction with an individual this completely out-of-touch with reality. She spends much of her time every day crafting golems (inevitably in the shape of prim, narrow-hipped female scholars, loosely resembling the version of her youthful self she would have wished to be, had she been entirely free to neglect her queenly responsibilities), which alternate between patrolling the Tower for intruders or marauding the local countryside, collecting either general wizardly supplies or specifically materials for the manufacture of more of themselves (despite having had nine thousands years in which to advance her class level, Akka's extremely retiring lifestyle and the constant expenditure of her XP on Golem-crafting has prevented her from gaining even one level in that time).
When she's not building more of her minions, Akka generally just sits around daydreaming, and in the process also spamming the tower's several top floors with high-level Illusions, more than a few of which simply cover the decorative windows with apparently impossible corridors or doorways - several adventurers have fallen to their deaths as a result of failing to notice these un-defusable "traps". Wearing pristine white clothes at all times (kept clean with Presidigitation) but ignoring her hereditary tiara of leadership over the nation she abandoned to its fate, Akka has a 20% chance to not even notice a group of adventurers entering her main chamber on the tower's third-from-top floor, even if they walk right in front of the throne she lounges upon while staring off into the distance. If they make significant amounts of noise, however, they are likely to rouse her from her oblivious state; it has been so long since the wizardess has seen a human being that she's forgotten the existence of males, and will react to them as if they are some blasphemous alien horror who must be purged at any cost the moment it gives even the slightest signal of hostility (not that women are greeted much better; negotiating peaceably with Akka requires, at bare minimum, speaking her long-dead language with a flawless accent, and achingly precise obedience to the high protocol of her aristocratic regime). Though she doesn't actually do all that much, Akka's alignment has naturally slid into Evil through sheer apathy; her Phylactery is the cushion on which she sits all day, and she takes no particular action to defend it beyond remaining seated, for not even an assault on her life motivates her to move around the room more than is minimally necessary to maintain her daily spell allotment and crafting regimen.
Roll your own. Dice, that is...
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