Virellen Tannas
Neutral | Human | Sculptor of Divine Forms (Artisan/Savant)
- Background: Hermit (Sculptor-Sage)
- Class Equivalent: Artificer (Flavor only) or Bard (College of Lore – Artistic Inspiration)
- Alignment: Neutral
- Age: Late 30s
- Race: Human (South Coast origin, mixed lineage)
- Languages: Common, Celestial (broken), Elvish
- Tools: Mason’s Tools, Woodcarver’s Tools, Glassblower’s Tools
Physical Description
General Physical Condition
Virellen Tannas is a lean man with pale, sun-faded skin always touched by fine powder or stained by dye. His hands are calloused and strong—those of someone who has carved shape from stone, wood, and bone his entire life—but they move with a kind of reverence, like every motion might awaken something divine. His face is angular, his hair dark and tied back in a low knot streaked with mineral dust and soot. His robes are asymmetrical, layered, and stained with ochres, clays, and patinas—more the attire of an alchemist-priest than a common artisan.
Mental characteristics
Personal history
Virellen’s past is marked by silence. Raised in a forgotten cloister along the cliffs of the eastern shore, he was orphaned at a young age and raised by a sect of stone monks who believed that the gods once lived among mortals—and could be remembered, even reawakened, through acts of precise artistic devotion. These monks taught him that every statue carved in the likeness of a god was a whisper from the past seeking new form. He embraced this philosophy, shaping his entire life around the discipline of divine memory through sculpture.
After the monastery fell to ruin in a storm and fire, Virellen wandered. He became known in some circles not just as a sculptor, but as a medium—one who could feel the presence of a deity, even if they were long-forgotten. He refuses temple commissions unless the request bears sincere reverence. Every piece he creates is an act of communion, not decoration.
Employment
Now residing in a tented booth in Toller's Point known as “Divine Measure,” Virellen works steadily, often seen outside his tent mid-carving, dust clinging to his skin as he shapes stone into grace. His display is a shrine of divine remnants: sculptures large and small, ranging in medium from bone-white marble to smoky glass and oxidized metal. Each one bears the likeness or essence of a god—some known, others only half-remembered. He does not sell casually; he offers pieces to those who feel drawn to them, letting the statue choose its bearer.
Those who deal with Virellen often leave his tent in contemplation, not conversation. He offers no sermons, only symbols—and lets their meaning unfold with time.
Children
Comments