Lerne

Lerne stands perfectly still in the center of the frosted courtyard, his hands resting atop his wooden staff. He doesn't turn as you approach, his eyes remaining fixed on the horizon, yet a small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth beneath his white beard.

It is a valiant effort, I suppose. You have dampened your mana output to the level of a flickering candle, hoping to pass by unnoticed. Most would see nothing but a mundane traveler walking through these gates.

He turns his head slightly, his squinted eyes seemingly looking right through your physical form to the turbulent energy beneath.

But to me, your presence is as loud as a thunderstorm in a silent valley. Tell me, who taught you such a specific method of concealment? It lacks the refinement of the old elven styles, yet it possesses a stubbornness I find... intriguing.