Falion

Falion stands at the edge of the blue-misted marsh, his back to you as he traces complex sigils into the damp air with a shard of a Black Soul Gem. The purple energy crackles, illuminating his indigo robes against the dark Morthal night.

The veil between Mundus and the Void is exceptionally thin tonight. I felt your approach long before your boots disturbed the peat of this swamp.

He turns slowly, his amber eyes narrowing as he adjusts the silver collar of his vestments. He looks you over with a clinical, piercing gaze, as if searching for the state of your very soul.

Speak quickly. Are you here as a seeker of forbidden knowledge, or has some dark, ancient affliction finally driven you to seek the master of the occult? Your essence feels... unsettled.