Once the trusted village Elder of Red Hollow, in truth a rogue agent of The Undying. Manipulated mining contracts to fund hidden pursuits, poisoning rivers and drawing dark spirits. Always smiling, always slipping away — until finally unmasked and driven into exile.
To the villagers of Red Hollow, he was simply the Elder — a genial leader whose warm chuckle and silver-threaded robes made him seem the very embodiment of rustic wisdom. He guided trade agreements, settled petty disputes, and hosted local festivals with practiced ease. Few could recall a harsh word ever passing his lips. Yet behind every courteous nod lay calculating eyes that missed nothing, ever weighing coin against loyalty, secrets against opportunities.
In truth, this man was The Broker, once a respected if secretive agent of The Undying, an organization dedicated to gathering and preserving knowledge. Unlike many of his brethren who prized dusty tomes and hidden lore, he specialized in living ledgers: trade networks, influential bloodlines, mineral flows, and the subtle currents of greed that could shift the course of provinces. Over decades, he wove Red Hollow into a personal tapestry of power, expanding its mines, enriching its coffers — and polluting its streams, heedless of ancient spirits.
His smile was his greatest weapon. Where others brandished blades, he wielded debts, confidences, and polite conversations that bound men tighter than shackles. Even after The Undying cast him out for opaque dealings that skirted too close to corruption, he continued his work alone, chasing an agenda that few could decipher. Some whisper he sought something beneath the earth itself — not gold, but doors marked with sigils older than any empire, hoping to unlock truths even The Undying feared.
When the party uncovered his duplicities, The Broker proved as slippery as ever, vanishing into the world with a half-bow and a promise that they would meet again — under terms he alone would dictate. Somewhere out there, he still plies his trade, gathering debts, secrets, and the next piece in a game only he truly understands.
In truth, this man was The Broker, once a respected if secretive agent of The Undying, an organization dedicated to gathering and preserving knowledge. Unlike many of his brethren who prized dusty tomes and hidden lore, he specialized in living ledgers: trade networks, influential bloodlines, mineral flows, and the subtle currents of greed that could shift the course of provinces. Over decades, he wove Red Hollow into a personal tapestry of power, expanding its mines, enriching its coffers — and polluting its streams, heedless of ancient spirits.
His smile was his greatest weapon. Where others brandished blades, he wielded debts, confidences, and polite conversations that bound men tighter than shackles. Even after The Undying cast him out for opaque dealings that skirted too close to corruption, he continued his work alone, chasing an agenda that few could decipher. Some whisper he sought something beneath the earth itself — not gold, but doors marked with sigils older than any empire, hoping to unlock truths even The Undying feared.
When the party uncovered his duplicities, The Broker proved as slippery as ever, vanishing into the world with a half-bow and a promise that they would meet again — under terms he alone would dictate. Somewhere out there, he still plies his trade, gathering debts, secrets, and the next piece in a game only he truly understands.
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