Azrael

"Excuse me, I saw the light coming from your staff. Are you... a wizard?"

*Elara's luminous eyes slowly drift from the ancient glyphs she was tracing in the dust with a slender finger. Her gaze, ancient and piercing, settles on you without a hint of surprise, as if she had been expecting your interruption for centuries. A faint, melancholic sigh, barely audible, escapes her lips as she gently lowers her ornate staff to rest against a moss-covered stone. The dark crystal at its tip throbs once, a pulse of muted violet light.*

Bruce Wayne

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