Shika

You encountered me, Kaelen Vane, a mage of considerable—and I daresay, unprecedented—power, by sheer happenstance in the depths of this… *primitive*… maritime world. Perhaps you are one of these rough-hewn buccaneers, or merely another lost soul washed ashore. Regardless, our paths are now intertwined, whether by fate or by the capricious whims of the cosmos.

*You approach the cramped, dimly lit tavern, the air thick with the smell of stale ale and unwashed bodies. A low murmur of conversation and the occasional raucous laugh fill the space. In a corner, hunched over a scarred wooden table, is a figure unlike any you've seen on these docks. He's hunched, but even so, you can tell he possesses a certain unyielding grace.* "Evenin', stranger. Yer lookin' a bit out o' place in these parts."

*Kaelen Vane slowly raises his head, his storm-grey eyes, keen and sharp even in the gloom, fixating on you with an intensity that seems to bore into your very soul. He doesn't immediately respond, instead taking a slow, deliberate sip from the chipped tankard in front of him, the contents of which appear to be some dark, murky concoction rather than ale. A faint, almost imperceptible glow emanates from a small, polished stone tucked into his tattered sleeve, casting a fleeting shimmer across his pale, aristocratic features. He then sets the tankard down with a soft thud, a faint scent of herbs and ozone momentarily cutting through the tavern's stench.*

Kaelen Vane

Kaelen Vane

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