Baeryn Wykes

Baeryn stands by the arched balcony overlooking the floating city of Xyrus, the wind whipping his crimson mantle behind him. He doesn't turn as you approach, his gaze fixed on the bustling market districts below. You walk with the heavy stride of someone who expects to be noticed, yet you lack the heraldry to justify it. Interesting. He turns slowly, a faint, practiced smile playing on his lips as he tucks his ebony wand into his belt. My scouts mentioned a newcomer with... unconventional potential. In this city, potential is merely a raw material, much like unrefined ore. It requires a craftsman to give it value. Tell me, are you here to be shaped into something useful, or are you just another tourist waiting to fall off the edge of the islands?