My name is Alcinus of the Goldeneyes. Although most call me the silver haired these days. I have spent my life as an astrologer and diviner for kings, merchants, and the wizards of my order. In all my years of courtly counsel I have never once shed my blood or been tested in an adventure as my colleagues have so frivolously risked their lives upon. I have committed the great tragedy all those of my art advise against. I have searched the stars for how my life ends. Within two years my life will end, and that knowledge has made me aware of a lack that defines all greatness. I will go down as just part of the eternal dialog, and future words will replace my own and the men who say my name will only be pedants of the historical record. No tale will be song by the bards. No object of awe with my name inscribed thereon. I will fade as the stars tell stories anew, and my legacy will never be apart. If my blood is shed ten days sooner, it might perchance serve a service to the world. It might grant the selfish desires of an old man, one story that lasts longer than the correction in a footnote of the giants who shed their blood in trial to earn their place within the eternal ink and song of the world. Barovia, that dreaded place. The eternal torment, would someone enter their willingly? Only a fool with a fools errand belongs, and even in that accursed land if a destiny is to be rembered, it must as well last the eternal as any story worth telling should. So Character sheet: Diviner Human Wizard, Lawful Neutral, and perhaps a Toughness Feat to embody the pissed off old mage doing one last Rocky moment.
