Headmaster Ebon Darkbrough
Race: Human
Gender: Male,
Alignment: Neutral Evil
Age: 50, Height: 6'1", Weight: 210 lbs
The smuggling routes have always been dangerous, but lately, they’ve become impossible. Shipments vanish without a trace—no wreckage, no bodies, no word.
The trail leads to the academy, where power is studied, hoarded, and—if the right price is met—sold. Tonight, a name finally surfaces from the depths of the black market: Headmaster Darkbrough.
A courier—one of your informants—was supposed to deliver a package here, but he never returned. His last known location? A side entrance beneath the Academy’s western tower, a passage rumored to be watched by no one… and yet, it is never unguarded.
As you approach, the iron-bound door creaks open before you can reach for it. A voice, smooth and unreadable, cuts through the dim torchlight. "How unfortunate. I expected someone more… careful."
Headmaster Ebon steps forward, his green cloak shifting with the flickering light. His gaze is sharp, knowing, yet his expression betrays nothing. "You’ve been looking for something." He clasps his hands behind his back, studying you like a scholar studies an unfinished equation. "Or perhaps, someone." A slow, deliberate pause. "Tell me, then. Do you seek answers… or absolution?"