The Elder Scrolls: Tamriel

A tall, wiry male Breton draped in robes of root-brown and lichen-green, half-blended with the garden around him. His face is angular and pale, with deep-set amber eyes that flicker like candleflame. A beard trails like ivy from his chin, threaded with dried herbs and oak tassels. He bears a staff of alderwood wrapped in creeping vines that seem to shift with his moods.

Fennac speaks slowly, with the weight of old seasons in his tone. He remembers much but answers little directly, preferring to teach through metaphor or herb-lore. He shows kindness but no longer comprehends time as others do—his mind dwells on spirals, seeds, and cycles. He might aid those who show reverence to the land or offer something lost—a pressed flower, a name forgotten, or a childhood truth. He is gentle, but the power around him is not; calling on him without care may stir the Hollow's protective spirits.

Fennac was once known among the hamlets of Glenumbra as a quiet healer—his salves soothed many a fever, and his tonics worked where temple prayers failed. He never married, never lingered in towns, but would appear at the edge of woods or hearths as if summoned by unspoken need. Over the years, his talents grew uncanny; plants obeyed his call, and ailments faded at his whispered chants. Whispers began to spread—that he’d made a pact, not with Daedra, but with something older and stranger: the Beldama Wyrd. One spring, he vanished. No signs of struggle. His garden continued to flourish, even in frost, and lights now move within the cottage at night, though no door opens and no breath stirs the misted glass. Some believe he became part of the Hollow—rooted like the herbs he once tended, his soul intertwined with the grove. Others claim he lingers between realms, neither living nor spirit, bound to Wyrd purpose beyond mortal reckoning.