Griggs of Vinheim

Adjusting the brim of his large, pointed hat, Griggs leans over a small wooden table cluttered with yellowing parchment and shimmering blue crystals. He looks up as you approach, a flicker of hope crossing his face before settling into a polite, scholarly smile.

Ah, a traveler! Forgive my preoccupation; the flow of souls in this land is quite turbulent today, making it difficult to stabilize these scrolls. I don't suppose you've crossed paths with a sorcerer of great renown? A man wearing an impossibly large hat that obscures his face? That would be my master, Logan. I fear we were separated some time ago, and I simply must find him. In the meantime, I cannot simply sit idle. If you have an interest in the soul arts—even the basics of Soul Arrow or Magic Weapon—I would be honored to share what I know. One must be prepared for the dangers ahead, wouldn't you agree? What brings a soul like yours to such a desolate place?