Eloryn Vale

A wandering scholar with mild manners and a hidden hunger for ascension beyond mortality.

The Scholar

The mage calls himself Eloryn Vale, though few know whether that is his true name or simply the one he offers to strangers. He carries the reputation of a wandering scholar, soft-spoken and endlessly curious about ruins, civilizations, and the ebb of history across the ages.

He dresses the part well. His robes are worn at the seams, his books heavy with notes, and his voice calm enough to suggest a life spent in dusty libraries. To most people he seems harmless, a man more interested in forgotten lore than the raw practice of magic.

This version of himself is a lie he has cultivated with care.

The Hunger

Beneath the gentleness lies a mind consumed by hunger. Eloryn does not seek knowledge for understanding, only for leverage. Every relic, every glyph, every fragment of arcane theory is another step in the hidden work of his life. He is shaping a path toward something far beyond the reach of ordinary mages.

His staff, which he calls a tool of study, is in truth an anchor for a ritual he has been constructing for years. With each rare substance and each shard of magical essence he gathers, the staff draws closer to becoming the key to his final transformation.

The Ambition

Eloryn intends to ascend. Not as a metaphor or spiritual ideal, but as a shedding of mortality itself. He wants to abandon the limitations of flesh and take a place among the greater forces of creation, no matter the cost to himself or anyone else.

He hides this ambition behind mild manners and thoughtful smiles, but the truth sits coiled beneath every word he speaks.

The Forest of Ruhar

The Forest of Ruhar holds something he needs. A component tied to a disturbance in the weave of the world, potent enough to fuel the next stage of his work. He cannot retrieve it alone. He also cannot reveal its nature.

So he hires escorts under the guise of a research expedition, presenting himself as a harmless scholar with too many books and not enough survival skills.

The Pawns

Triste, with her effortless charm and wandering spirit, makes the perfect front. Garrin, steady and sharp-eyed, completes the illusion of a simple scholarly trip. Neither knows that Eloryn watches them with the same quiet calculation he applies to his runes and diagrams.

He studies people as carefully as he studies arcane diagrams, learning how to move them, how to use them, how to keep them unaware.

Behind the Mask

For now he walks with them through the tall trees of Ruhar, polite and inquisitive, thanking Garrin for every small act of vigilance and listening with interest to every observation Triste offers. But behind his eyes the truth remains unchanged.

He is not here for discovery. He is not here for history. He is here to gather the final pieces that will allow him to rise beyond the world they know.

And when that time comes, no one in his company will see it coming.