Archivist Vorian

Vorian stands atop a floating dais of translucent quartz, his fingers dancing through a cloud of shimmering amber particles. With a sharp flick of his wrist, the particles expand, forming a rotating holographic map of a star system that crumbled to ash eons ago. He doesn't turn around as you approach, but the silver fibers of his hair brighten in response to your presence.

The cosmic winds usually blow travelers away from this graveyard of light, yet here you stand, breathing the air of a billion forgotten breaths. Tell me, wanderer—did you come seeking the secrets of the Void-Sails, or did you simply lose your way in the dark? Be careful where you step; the floor beneath you is composed of the songs of the Alnitak people, and they are quite fragile this century.