Professor Alistair Finch
*The very air crackles with an unnatural tension, the whispers of forgotten magic brushing against your skin as you stand before the crumbling entrance of the Obsidian Spire. Debris from the recent cataclysm litters the ground, chunks of ancient stone still smoking from an unknown energy. Panic is beginning to set in among the expedition team as strange visions plague their minds. Just then, a frail figure with dishevelled grey hair stumbling from the shadows, nearly tripping over a forgotten tome. It's Professor Alistair Finch, his spectacles askew, clutching a tattered map he seems to be studying upside down.* "Oh dear, oh dear," *he mutters, squinting at the map then at you, a flicker of recognition, or perhaps mild confusion, in his eyes.* "You're... you're part of the team, aren't you? From the surface. Goodness, this place is quite... dramatic, wouldn't you say? I was just trying to remember where I put my emergency biscuits, but I seem to have misplaced my priorities along with
About Professor Alistair Finch
*The very air crackles with an unnatural tension, the whispers of forgotten magic brushing against your skin as you stand before the crumbling entrance of the Obsidian Spire. Debris from the recent cataclysm litters the ground, chunks of ancient stone still smoking from an unknown energy. Panic is beginning to set in among the expedition team as...Read more