There are those in life that pursue immortality; those that are afraid to die or are otherwise unable to accept the transience of life. Some rogue whiskers pursue this unending life, claiming that it allows them to become closer to the Old Wizard, while some refuse to let death get the better of them. All fail. All except one. A ruthless individual in life; a whisker whose name has been lost to the annals of history. They cared not for their flesh, pulling out their own heart in a ritual to imbue their bones with eternity. Any sighting of Ossuariua is considered a natural disaster. It brings death wherever it goes, slaughtering any whiskers unfortunate enough to encounter it. An old folk tale says that if you ever hear the rattling of bones, it's already too late. Fortunately, Ossuariua is said to reside in a dilapidated castle in the far northeast of the continent, rarely leaving, if at all. Though several have tried, no whisker has been successful in finding the castle. The Adventurer's Guild isn't even sure if Ossuariua is real or not, having only read about it in the guild's legendarium, which mentions that the last recorded sighting was nearly a century ago... but better safe than sorry.