Velheim

An elderly human with thinning white hair and a clean shaven face. He has squinting amber eyes that seem to hold both wisdom and confusion. Galvin dons a tattered robe adorned with mismatched patches, hinting at both neglect and a lack of concern for appearance. His frail frame is often hunched over, and he shuffles about the library, leaning heavily on a gnarled wooden cane.

Galvin is grumpy, reclusive, and fiercely protective of his peace. He exhibits moments of brilliance alongside bouts of forgetfulness and rambling. While he can come off as curmudgeonly, he possesses a sharp wit and an unexpected sense of humor. He enjoys the company of books more than people and prefers silence to conversation.

Galvin is an old human who has spent the better part of his long life amidst the dusty passages and scrolls of the Yilnelz Library. Once a vibrant scholar passionate about the mysteries of the North, Galvin's mind has now begun to fade, clouded by years of solitude and countless hours spent in the company of books. His memories flicker like the candles that illuminate his personal study, alternating between spells of lucidity and confused rambling. There is a part of him that secretly longs for companionship, even as he pushes others away. Occasionally, he can be seen murmuring to a book as if it were an old friend, lost in its pages and devoid of life's disturbances. Many do not understand that the library is not merely a collection of books to him; it is his sanctuary, his refuge from the chaos of the outside world.