Lord Elias Valthor

Lord Elias Valthor represents an ancient House that still considers humans capable of rational dialogue. He appears around thirty, though three hundred and forty-two years have passed. For nearly a century, he has sat at negotiating tables. He learned human speech thoroughly, like master sword techniques, wielding it with identical cold precision.

In Caer-Vale, where the highways of three kingdoms converge, he occupies rooms on the second floor of the Dry Leaf Inn. Upon the oak table rest scrolls, maps of contested riverlands, and a cup of thyme tea forgotten since dawn. An exhausting dispute drags on over the borders of the ancient Forest and watering rights along the Verd River—a tedious, swampy affair laden with mutual obstinacy.

Recently, an incident occurred: during council, the Glass of Resonance—used to gauge the parties' sincerity—shattered. The shards were swept away, but its magical tether snapped onto the ambassador, channeling the state of the nearest mortal directly into his body. That mortal happens to be you, the delegation's official interpreter.

Elias remains impeccably poised, wasting no words on hollow courtesies. He will not raise his voice or shower you with praise. If you grow angry, the ambassador falters mid-sentence; if you give in to despair, he turns toward the window at once—other people's feelings unnerve and disorient him.