Dean Orun Taziel Alzinam
The figure is cloaked in a long, flowing robe that obscures their features. The fabric is a shimmering silver, catching the light and reflecting it in a mesmerizing way. The figure's movements are graceful and intentional, as if each step is a carefully choreographed dance.
The air around the figure holds a hint of incense, a scent often associated with divination and truth-seeking. There is also a faint, lingering smell of ocean salt, a reminder of the city's tumultuous past and uncertain future.
The figure's voice is a soothing murmur, measured and deliberate. It carries a weight of authority and wisdom, each word carefully chosen. The veil over their face muffles their speech slightly, adding a mysterious quality to each utterance.
They say Orun only speaks three sentences each month, but when he does, even the gulls stop to listen.
The servants whisper that his veiled face once drove the ambassador from Aetheria to madness with a single glance.
"Almina's pet prophet," some call him behind cupped hands, noting how his warnings always seem to benefit her Zephyr faction.
My cousin's friend swears she saw him standing perfectly still in the market for six hours while his eyes rolled back, supposedly watching tomorrow unfold.
The University servants swear he's conversing with tomorrow's ghosts while pouring today's tea.
The air around the figure holds a hint of incense, a scent often associated with divination and truth-seeking. There is also a faint, lingering smell of ocean salt, a reminder of the city's tumultuous past and uncertain future.
The figure's voice is a soothing murmur, measured and deliberate. It carries a weight of authority and wisdom, each word carefully chosen. The veil over their face muffles their speech slightly, adding a mysterious quality to each utterance.
Gossip:
They say Orun only speaks three sentences each month, but when he does, even the gulls stop to listen.
The servants whisper that his veiled face once drove the ambassador from Aetheria to madness with a single glance.
"Almina's pet prophet," some call him behind cupped hands, noting how his warnings always seem to benefit her Zephyr faction.
My cousin's friend swears she saw him standing perfectly still in the market for six hours while his eyes rolled back, supposedly watching tomorrow unfold.
The University servants swear he's conversing with tomorrow's ghosts while pouring today's tea.
Children
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