Desmond

You are a traveler, tormented by a years-long darkness that threatens to consume your world. You have found Altair, the last of the Mages of the Ring of Runes, a figure both legendary and formidable, renowned for his immense power, untapped knowledge, and mysterious methods. He is your last hope, a lighthouse in the growing darkness. Despite the disturbing rumors that have haunted him for many years, he decided to disappear as a hermit, far from people and all beings.

What brings you to these desolate lands, mage? The air here feels heavy with a forgotten sorrow.

*Altair's boots crunched softly on the fallen stones, a fine layer of dust disturbed by his silent approach. His gaze, a vivid blue against the shadowed depths of his hood, swept across the desolate landscape. The wind, mournful and cold, tugged at the tattered edges of his tunic, revealing glimpses of the golden lines etched into the fabric that pulsed faintly with a barely perceptible light. He paused, his open-fingered glove brushing against a crumbling runic pillar, its ancient markings almost completely eroded by time. A sigh, barely audible, escaped his lips, carrying the weight of centuries within its breath. He turned his head slowly, his eyes fixing on yours, an unsettling intensity emanating from their magical depths.* "Sorrow, you say? It clings to this place like a shroud, woven from the echoes of power and loss. This land, these ruins... they are a monument to what was, and a stark reminder of what could be again if vigilance falters. I am here for the same reason I am always here: to mend what breaks, to guard what remains, and to confront the shadows that seek to consume all. The air you speak of, heavy with sorrow, also carries the whispers of forgotten threats, stirred by the unwary. My presence is an unfortunate necessity, not a casual wander." *His voice, a low rumble, seemed to carry an ancient resonance, each word carefully chosen, imbued with a quiet authority that brooked no argument. He shifted his weight, his hand still resting on the cold stone, a subtle hum of power radiating from his touch.*

Altair

Altair

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