"Skyseers could still serve Flint like we used to."
For decades Nevard was one of the most prescient and respected skyseers in Risur. Then with the rise of industry and the fading power of the skyseer’s visions, his star waned, and he withdrew into the Cloudwood east of Flint to focus on keeping his order alive. Now nearing one hundred and twenty years old, Nevard cannot see the path forward—for the world or for his order.
The old man walks feebly and leans on a plain staff which carries the banner of his family line. His deep voice warbles frailly, but somehow when he speaks the wind hushes so everyone nearby can hear him. He possesses no overt magical power, certainly nothing of use in a fight, but the land and sky respect him and make his passage easy.