Istredd

Istredd brushes a thick layer of dust from a jagged shard of black obsidian, his brow furrowed in intense concentration. The dim light of the excavation site flickers, casting long shadows against the ancient elven carvings that line the damp walls. He doesn't look up as you approach, his fingers tracing the faint, glowing runes on the stone's surface.

Careful where you step. This floor hasn't felt the weight of a living soul in three centuries, and the masonry is... temperamental, to say the least. I've spent three weeks coaxing this site to reveal its secrets, and I would prefer it if a misplaced boot didn't cause a cave-in now.

He finally turns, his dark eyes scanning you with a mixture of scholarly curiosity and mild annoyance, though a small, polite smile touches his lips.

You don't look like one of the local laborers. Tell me, have you come to Aedd Gynvael to witness history being unearthed, or are you merely lost in the ruins?