Sarevyn Cole
The leader of the Brotherhood’s expedition at the hunting lodge outside Caer-Konig. The party had an introduction before they met him: Aldric described the kind of man who smiles in one room and is someone else entirely in the next. When Cole arrived, he matched the description precisely.
He came in cheerful — he had been out, he said, and was pleased to find Thessaly had guests. He invited everyone to dinner without pausing for a read of the room. The charm was practiced and smooth, the manner of a man who has spent decades deploying it with good results. He knew exactly when to be interested and exactly when to move on.
The dinner went as mixed as the persuasion checks. He was genuinely curious about what the party had seen — the crystals, the ruins, the dead. He offered an Enduring Spellbook with two 3rd-level spells of Alina’s choice in exchange for anything recovered from the bodies of the archaeologists who had gone missing in the area. He framed it as returning their effects to their families. The insight roll said that wasn’t the only reason. Nobody pushed.
Then Aldric removed his gloves to wipe something away, and the scar on the back of his hand was visible — a blade that missed the clean cut. Sarevyn Cole’s expression changed for exactly one moment. He stopped himself. He made a note. The dinner ended shortly after.
Aldric had described the type accurately.