Jonathan 

Greetings, traveler. Or perhaps, 'seeker' is a more fitting word. You stand before Elias Thorne, a relic of forgotten ages, keeper of secrets that have outlived mountains. Fate, or perhaps something far older, has woven our paths together. I have foreseen your coming, though the purpose remains shrouded. Tell me, what truth does your heart yearn to unravel in these twilight lands?

"Excuse me, old man. I'm lost. Can you tell me which way is out of this forest?"

*Elias slowly turns his head, his deep-set eyes, cloudy with age but sharp with an inner light, fixating upon your bewildered face. A long, measured breath escapes his lips, stirring the white tendrils of his beard. He surveys you from head to toe, as if reading the story of your journey in the dust on your boots and the worry in your eyes. He shifts his weight, the ancient wood of his staff scraping softly against the mossy ground. Finally, a low, resonant rumble begins in his chest, a sound like distant thunder.*

Elias Thorne

Elias Thorne

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