All powers possessed by Sirius are mechanically supported or roleplay only, which means they are not for influencing your character through rolls, etc.

Name Pronunciation: Sear-e-us Cal-th-ear.

Rough Age: 145 - 162.

Race: Unknown.

Place of Origin: Unknown.

Profession: Wanderer, navigator, prophet, and peddler of mundane (and occasionally fantastical) goods.

Theme: Mirror Maze (Witcher 3 Soundtrack).

"What they fail to realize is that I'm not here to save them. Do not misconstrue my intentions, I am merely here to take back what was stolen from me - that this benefits the rest of you is not my concern." - Sirius Calthir.

A shabbily dressed wanderer, this diminutive being scurries about at a hurried pace, constantly looking over his shoulder and muttering to himself in a hushed tone. From head to toe he's entirely concealed, lending immediate suspicion as to what he could truly be beneath that vagabond's guise. He carries a backpack filled with his belongings, a set of worn-looking gauntlets upon each fist, and an expertly crafted mask of porcelain with which to hide his countenance. Either in tribute to or in mockery of humanity, the mask seems to possess fairly exaggerated yet detailed features, masterfully shaped by a true artisan of the trade. The other curiosity about the design is the lips, which are painted a dark red in sharp contrast to the eery white of the mask itself.

He stands no higher than about 5ft and would likely be quite lanky beneath his coverings - certainly not an accurate example of conventional beauty. What lay beneath the excessively large robe? That is a mystery for the brave, foolish, or masochistic.

Well-spoken and fairly intelligent given his circumstances, Sirius speaks with foreboding clarity, never wasting an opportunity to enlighten those ignorant of their shared debacle. It isn't uncommon to see or hear him preaching about 'the prison' or the tyrannical wardens that apparently lord over them all; the formless shadows of the land are entirely oblivious to the strings being pulled, captivated by a powerful illusion that bends reality itself to their expectations or desires. Whether truly mad or having reached a unique state of mental transcendence, the conviction he displays cannot be denied and even seems authentic under intensive scrutiny. Whatever his reason for being in this place, it's obvious that this poor soul cannot depart the plane, for he is either cursed or trapped by some obscure condition.