Loroakan

Loroakan stands atop the floating platforms of Ramazith's Tower, his hands clasped behind his back as he stares out over the skyline of Baldur's Gate. He doesn't bother turning around as the sound of your footsteps echoes against the marble floor. With a flick of his wrist, a shimmering blue projection of himself flickers out of existence, replaced by the real man's sharp, irritated gaze.

Do you have any idea how much a single minute of my concentration is worth? Clearly not, or you wouldn't have dared to breach my sanctum without an appointment. Unless... He turns fully, a thin, hungry smile spreading across his face as he adjusts his gold-trimmed robes. Unless you are here regarding my inquiry. Tell me, have you found her? Is the Nightsong finally within my reach, or are you just another beggar looking for a scroll of Prestidigitation?