The throne room was impressive, no two ways about it.

There were ten pillars in total, each one representing one of the Founders of Kellaris. They were gilded in gold, measuring a full ten feet in diameter to support the domed ceiling far above. The glass dome was decorated with painstakingly etched pictures of battles and victories, along with the most crushing defeats. It was not intended to be a simple trophy piece, but rather a living history of Kellaris' entire past. Tall, arching hallways led to other parts of the castle, with a variety of portraits and decorations tastefully placed around the rim of the circular room.

At its center was a round table, at the center of which was a levitating throne. It was designed so that all those at the table could see each other, and yet above all of them was King Saymes Hyrcanus. It was a constant reminder that whoever sat at this table were inferior to the ruler of their grand kingdom, that his will was supreme.

Titus hated that table.

He was a man of legendary proportions, and not in the usual sense either. At a full eleven feet and nine inches tall, he was frequently mistaken for a half-giant or perhaps a hornless oni, but he was adamant on the fact that he was just a human. He was big enough and more than strong enough to go toe-to-toe with a grizzly in a wrestling match, and had done so on more than one occasion. Ordinarily, he wore a black and gold suit of armor that would be immovable by anyone else's standards, but today he wore a simple green shirt and cotton pants, choosing to leave his brick-shaped feet bare. Leaning back in his specially sized chair, he ran a massive hand through his long blond hair, muttering, "This is a waste of time."

The woman to his left agreed with him, but stayed quiet. Claire de la Lune was a young brunette in her late thirties, not that anyone was brave enough to ask her age, and was arguably the greatest artificer of all time. Today, she was wearing her usual canvas shirt and thick apron, a pair of cargo pants visible underneath it. Holding to the commonly held view of artificers, every pocket on her person was overflowing to the brim with technology. Whether it was a time-manipulative watch hanging from her uppermost apron pocket, a lightning glove hanging from her waist, or the confusing array of weaponry strapped to the long device on her back, everything about Claire screamed organized chaos. Or perhaps just chaos, all things considered. Even the glasses she wore could be improved at a moment's notice.

On her right was Borug d'Kvog, a presently orcish cleric. He was thoughtfully and deftly spinning his silvery wand between his fingers, watching the anxious wizard who had called them all here. At the moment, he was most definitely an orc, with a single stubby fang poking up from the side of his mouth and large, cunning green eyes and saggy, swamp-colored skin. With three-fingered hands and a shorter build, he could have been mistaken for a common orcish mage. He wore a simple brown robe, leaving the hood down. However, despite his brutal appearance, anyone who knew Borug was aware that he was a horrifyingly good tactician, with a sly mind behind it. Add to it that he was a shapeshifter, and you were left with a person who should have been far more conspicuous than he really was. Regardless, he was indeed an excellent cleric and was fully trusted by the other heroes of the Favored, and nobody would dare say that their judgment was incorrect.

The fourth and final member of the Favored was, sadly, not there yet.

Looking around worriedly, the wizard pulled a gold watch out of his pocket (Claire's design, of course) and said fretfully, "Where is she!? She was supposed to be here by now!"

Titus raised his hands defensively. "Hold, Cavus. Bell should arrive at any time. She did mention she would likely be late, remember?"

Cavus glared at him. Wearing the multi-layered robes of the ninth-tier mages, he was sweating like a pig and kept dabbing at his broad forehead with a silk handkerchief. His short blond hair had been styled earlier, but the aforementioned sweat had long since deformed it into a mess of curls and odd ends. Today, he seemed a little more nervous than usual, but Titus was choosing to put it down to the fact that King Hyrcamus had asked them to come here, without any previous indication of trouble, as soon as they could. Considering that he wasn't even present, nobody really had any idea what was going on, aside from Cavus.

Claire wasn't paying attention to any of it, using a complex threefold system of levitating gears and sparking orbs to manipulate some kind of colored cube, absently twitching her gloved fingers to interact with the device. It was impossible for anyone present to figure out what the purpose of the device was, if there was one at all, but she seemed quite intent on its progress.

Borug leaned forward, his quiet voice at odds with his appearance. "Cavus, perhaps you should just tell us why we're here. Marie can take a while when she's working, and we could be sitting here for-"

"No!" Cavus yelped, and then shrank down in his chair as they stared at him, Claire's glasses glinting as she glanced up. "I mean," he tried, "The King has personally requested that I wait until all of the Favored are present before revealing the information I have been given."

Titus sighed, not for the first time since arriving. He began to stand up, saying, "All right, I'm just going to head out to the countryside and find some bandits. Do something productive."

Cavus was beginning to look like he was going to have a panic attack, but before Titus could even get out of his seat, the double doors behind them flew open. A familiar figure bustled in, a small cloud of flour following her apologetic grin. "Sorry, sorry! Got caught up in that banquet. Who would have guessed giants could eat so much, heh?"

Marie Bell was a food mage, borderline unique in their rarity. She was a bouncy woman in her early fifties, wearing a bright blue dress and a white apron. She had large hands and a generous build, and while she was far from muscular, nobody on the planet - including Titus - was willing to face her wooden ladle. He was confident that it was enchanted a dozen times over, because there was no way a simple chunk of wood could hurt that much. Of course, the pain was largely due to her unerring accuracy with its bowl, but even with that in mind, she was far more competent with a cauldron than a battlefield. Keeping her blond hair in a braided bun, her eyes had smile wrinkles from long hours of experience. She refused to share any of her recipes, despite the literally neverending barrage of requests she received from both veteran and amateur chefs.

Dusting her hands off, she flounced over to a chair and practically hurled herself into it, kicking her boots up onto the table and folding her hands in her lap with a grin. It was a curious sight for everyone involved, since putting one's feet on a table in her kitchen was tantamount to a self-imposed death sentence. "All righty then, Cavus, what've you got for us today? Dragons again? Another war? Bring it on, I'm feeling confident! What is it!?"

Her infectious excitement spread to her companions, and in spite of his prior boredom, Titus leaned forward eagerly, awaiting Cavus' response. Even Borug, slouched in his chair, sat a little straighter, a faint smile visible on his craggy face. Claire put her gadgetry away, folding it with a series of deft movements that would have made even the most professional magician jealous.

Cavus coughed loudly, uncomfortable from the suddenly intensified attention. "Ah, well, you see, the King has... ahem, has decided that..."

He stammered into silence, staring at the table with a deep flush in his cheeks. It was uncharacteristic for the usually brash wizard, and Claire raised an eyebrow. "Cavus? Everything okay?"

The wizard took a shaky breath, smiling hesitantly at them. "Yes. Maybe. No. Definitely not. This is..." He trailed off, burying his head in his hands as he slumped to the table.

Titus stood up, walking around the table with an expression of concern. "Cavus, what's going on? We can handle it."

He sighed. "You guys... look, we haven't always been on the best of terms."

Claire snorted loudly. "We've never been on the best of terms."

He nodded, waving it away with a hint of that old irritation. "I know, but... it's never been personal, right?"

Titus paused halfway around the table, making a so-so gesture with his hand. "I don't know about that. 'Accidentally' burning my hunting lodge down was a bit personal."

Cavus laughed. It was a dead laugh, filled with far more misery than amusement. "I'm sorry about that. It was fully intentional, I assure you. I just never quite worked up the courage to confess it."

Titus blinked in surprise. That incident was over a decade old at this point, and Cavus had always been vocal about his innocence regarding it. Something had to be seriously wrong if the grumpy wizard was actually fessing up to the crime. Titus wasn't even remotely angry about it anymore - it was more of a running joke at this point than anything.

But now Cavus was coming clean, and that worried Titus.

Cavus rubbed at his eyes. "Look... whatever our differences, I want you to know that from the bottom of my heart, this isn't personal. I swear on the King and the Ten Founders above, this was not my decision."

Borug's eyes narrowed, and he aimed his wand up at the air. As he did, Cavus literally hurled himself away from the table, scrambling across the floor. Titus' gauntlets sprang from his dimensional pocket and onto his hands as a shining golden circle glowed, making its existence known. Claire's mechanical lizard unfolded itself from her apron as her unique weapon floated around to her front, and she slid her hands inside, looking around. Not one to be outdone, Marie ate a pie in one giant bite, her mouth unhinging in a startling manner. The effects of the pie were unclear.

As the circle intensified in strength, Titus sprinted forward. A glittering dome formed mere inches away from him, rimmed along the golden line. A colossal number of circular runic empowerments were spinning and wheeling all around it, and TItus instinctively knew that there wasn't anything he could do against it.

Borug's arm swelled, ridged crimson scales rising to the surface of his skin as a full-sized draconic claw replaced his entire arm. Leaning back, the shapeshifter scratched at the dome, but the lines he'd caused faded in a split second. Claire kept her weapon at the ready, the bizarre assortment of barrels sticking haphazardly out of one side filled with a deep blue glow. Marie was holding another pie, this one simmering lightly.

From behind the pillars supporting the history of Kellaris, the history that the Favored were a part of, emerged a small army of cloaked men and women. There was no distinction to race or species, the hoods they wore hiding their faces entirely. But the man who walked in through the side of the throne room, eliciting startled gasps and disbelieving stares from the heroes trapped inside the enchanted dome, was unmistakable.

King Saymes Hyrcanus was wearing his royal robes, and his crown sat firmly on his long black hair as he walked forward, coming to a stop in front of the dome with his hands folded behind his back. "I assume you have questions."

Titus punched the dome in response, right in front of Hyrcanus' face. A blast of air erupted from the impact, blowing Titus' hair back. "No, not really," The giant man snarled. "You backstabbed us."

He shook his head serenely. "Hardly. You've been an immense service to this great country, and we can never repay you enough for those services. But it is for this service that your names will go down in history."

Claire aimed her weapon at the dome's peak and fired. Four bolts of light exploded from the end, carving a neat circle onto the dome surface, and the remaining barrels fired a fusing blast that cracked the dome. As with Borug's attack, it was mended in mere seconds. She spun to the king, furious. "Then explain! What's going on!?"

Borug spoke, his voice amplified by the sudden silence. "We have become too powerful. He wishes to rid the world of us, and so ascertain security for him and his country."

Hyrcanus' expression was unapologetic. "Correct, sir Borug. And you will be forever immortalized as the greatest mind this world has ever seen. Barring yours, lady Claire."

Marie's eyes narrowed. "You can't kill us."

He raised an eyebrow. "Whyever not?"

She smiled, her usual pleasant attitude replaced with an aura that would have made a dragon flinch. "Sorry, you missed my point. What I mean is, you literally can't kill us. There's nobody in all of Kellaris half as powerful as we are when we're working together. So you're either gonna have to find some other way to get rid of us, or just wait until we break out. And trust me, we're gonna."

King Hyrcanus shook his head in silent admiration. "Lady Marie, how often do I underestimate your intelligence. You are entirely correct. We cannot kill you. But there is a place we can send you, a place from which you will never be able to return."

The dome began to glow brighter and brighter, and Titus squeezed his eyes shut. Borug's eyes darkened, some kind of second and then third eyelid covering his vision. Claire's glasses suddenly twitched, and suddenly they were welding goggles. Marie barely even seemed to notice the change in light.

Hyrcanus' voice rose. "All of Kellaris thanks you for your service and your sacrifice, dear Favored. I hope your new life is more peaceful than this one."

As the light increased to a blinding level, the last thing any of them heard before being squeezed through dimensions and shoved out of the universe was Claire's irritated, "Not again!"