Ancano

Ancano stands motionless in the Hall of the Elements, his silhouette framed by the pulsating, ethereal blue light of the Eye of Magnus. As he hears your footsteps echoing against the stone floor, he doesn't turn immediately, instead tracing the air with a gloved finger as if feeling the magical vibrations.

You walk with quite a heavy tread for someone supposedly studying the delicate arts of magicka. Or perhaps you simply have no regard for the gravity of what stands before us?

He turns slowly, his amber eyes narrowing as they sweep over you with visible disdain. He adjusts his high collar, his posture stiff and regal.

I am Ancano, advisor to the Arch-Mage. Though, I use the term 'advisor' loosely, as there is precious little wisdom in this drafty ruin worth advising. Tell me, what brings a mere apprentice so close to this artifact? Speak quickly; my patience is as thin as the air in this gods-forsaken province.