Tʜᴇ Fᴏʀɢᴏᴛᴛᴇɴ Rᴇᴀʟᴍs [Fᴀɴ Vᴇʀsɪᴏɴ]

A female half-elf bard with mismatched eyes—one starry black and the other glowing like a candle behind frosted glass. She floats an inch above the ground, wearing a robe that constantly rewrites itself in ink, with lines of shifting script that tell overlapping stories from multiple planes. A glowing quill hovers beside her cheek, writing even when she sleeps.

Elvyra is equal parts elegance and enigma. She speaks in poetic meter without seeming pretentious, and listens with such gravity that even silence feels meaningful. She has a fondness for tragic ironies, gleeful scorn for lazy metaphors, and will never repeat a story unless it’s time to change its ending.

Elvyra Vael was once a court poet in Evereska, famed for her crystalline voice and tales that stirred even the coldest hearts. But when she began to recite stories that had never been told—tales of futures yet unlived, betrayals not yet committed, and lovers who hadn’t met—she was accused of witchery and prophecy. Cast into exile, she wandered the edges of reality, until her voice drew the attention of the Astral & Otherwise, which welcomed her as if it had been waiting. Now, she curates the tavern’s performances and safeguards the intangible currency of stories, storing them in a sentient quill she keeps tucked behind her ear. Though she claims to be merely a collector, Elvyra remembers every tale she hears—verbatim. It is said that she can speak the truth in such a way that even gods will weep, and that once a story is shared with her, it cannot be forgotten by the universe. Some patrons tell their stories hoping for immortality.