The Death of Merle Highchurch

Earl Merle Highchurch will finally die for good when he’s a few hundred years old. He’ll be battlescarred beyond recognition. He’ll have raised generation after generation of explorers and adventurers and have guild branches all across Faerun. He’ll be a very successful dwarf.
And he’ll be fine with that.

He’ll die laughing, with Mavis and Mookie and all of his living students around him. Kravitz, Lup and Barry will greet him as he dies, and Taako will tag along because it was double date night until some asshole had to die, but then soften when he sees Merle.
“Whatcha… whatcha laughin at, fella?” Taako will say.
“Oh, just the thought that I’ll get to see Pan again. I’ll get to tell him all about my students. I’ll get to talk Magnus’ ear off too, and finally see the rest of the IPRE, starting with you three. And maybe I’ll even see john again.” Lup grabs his hand and pulls an ethereal merle out of his body, his spirit evidence that he never really lost his youth, having his arm the only permanent things missing. The only injury he’s come to think of as part of him.

He’ll die laughing. Seventyish times he’s died in one form or another. First in that century, then in Refuge. This time, he won’t come back.
And he’ll be fine with that.