Ortus Tatravellan
Truestone Consul
A particularly obstinate member of the Alarith temple in Ymetrica’s Glib Stretch region, Ortus Tatrevellan has had a hand in securing several Lumineth cities and outposts over his brief 170-year career. More than an unyielding combatant, he also serves as an envoy for the Alarith, establishing contact with mountain spirits and mountain-dwelling mortals in realms beyond Hysh. The Glib Stretch’s Stonemage has recently tasked him with establishing connections in the Heaving Mountains of Ghyran.
Prior to arriving in The Lustrare River Valley, he was renowned in Chamon for establishing an unusual truce between Lumineth prospectors and the Bronzebite Mawtribe who dwell in the region. Shortly after their arrival, the Alarith Stoneguard and Mawtribe each developed a grudging respect (or the closest feeling to respect with which an aelf can regard an ogor) for the other’s monumental durability during their initial skirmishes.
After determining it would be impossible to rout the ogors from the area with their current numbers, Ortus approached their immense tyrant Garrul Bronzebitten to establish a mutually-beneficial trade deal. After all, what happens to the corpses and inferior equipment of the human, duardin, or beastman the Lumineth would slay in establishing their new territory would be of little concern to them.
Arven Stonewalker
An experienced Lord-Castellant, and veteran of the last days of the Realmgate Wars. As the de facto commanding officer of the Stonewalkers Chamber of the Celestial Vindicators Stormhost, he prefers a more aggressive methodology than would be suggested by his usually defensively-oriented station–though one perfectly in keeping with the mindset of his fellow warriors.
Torgillius the Chamberlain
“I believe I am on the verge of a breakthrough. Bring me more subjects. And no more half-starved weaklings – the last batch didn’t even last the night.”
Gorslav the Gravekeeper
“When ye hear the scrape, scrape, scraping of Old Gorslav on his walk,
The only sound he ever makes, for he ain’t one for talk,
Flee then, fool, and hide away, and hope he don’t come take,
And bind your arms and drag ye off to bury ye awake.’