"On the second layer of Elysium, Eronia, there is a great mountain. It defies the senses with its size, and its depths are bountiful and ever-giving. Every hundred years, a roc lands upon this mountain and sharpens its beak upon the mountain's surface. When the whole mountain is worn down to nothing by this, the first second of eternity will have passed."
- Unknown Planar Philosopher

This figure is dressed in expensive and elaborate robes of deepest midnight purples, with green-gold armor and adornments made of electrum, and the fur mantle of some unknown beast hanging upon his shoulders - bearing all the semblance of a nobleborn sorcerer or wizard lord. He stands well above six feet in height, with his robes hanging loose and broadly, obscuring his actual physique and figure; the only indicator as to otherwise being the rare moments when his exceedingly long sleeves fall back to reveal the skeletal digits of a fleshless hand. Beneath his cowl lies the skeletal grin of undeath, a jewel beset upon the skull's brow, whilst piercing red dots of unlife glow in the sockets.

When he speaks, however, his voice carries none of the typical cadence or disembodied echoing that normally accompanies many of the undead. Rather, his voice is as clear as though he were speaking with the full functions of a voice-box: a deep, gravelly voice of a middle-aged man, though his tone being pleasant enough, often spoken with a calm and measured manner and with an air of authoritative politeness.

When seeking to disguise his undead features, he dons an iron mask and a pair of gauntlets to cover his most apparent traits, allowing his long, heavy robes to hide the rest.

((Still A Work In Progress - More To Follow))