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Proctor Silas Vane - Details

STR

9 (-1)

DEX

10 (0)

CON

9 (-1)

INT

17 (3)

WIS

15 (2)

CHA

8 (-1)

Acrobatics

0

Animal Handling

-1

Arcana

3

Athletics

0

Deception

-1

History

3

Insight

2

Intimidation

-1

Investigation

3

Medicine

3

Nature

3

Perception

2

Performance

-1

Persuasion

-1

Religion

2

Sleight of Hand

0

Stealth

0

Survival

2

MAX HP

30

Speed

30 ft

Occupation

Senior Gatekeeper and Archivist

Archetype (i.e. Class)

Administrative Cleric

AC

10

Age

50

Species

Human

Gender

Male


Backstory

Proctor Vane serves as the Senior Gatekeeper of Administration at Candlekeep, a position of immense theoretical power and crushing practical tedium. While the Dragonbone Vanguard battled demons to save Coia, Vane fought a solitary war against improper citation and unauthorized entry. Born into a family of merchants who profited from the Bukhara Spire Gateways, Vane rejected the chaotic life of trade for the ordered sanctity of the Great Library.

For thirty years, he has manned the intake desk beneath the Chanters' Great Ward. He is the first hurdle any would-be hero faces; before one can slay the monster, one must file Form 12-B regarding intent to disrupt local ecosystems. Vane is personally responsible for the bureaucratic exile of the 'Three Sages' (Kal Rin, Monk Monkerson, and Walter Bland) to The Oubliette. He views their removal not as a punishment, but as a necessary custodial action to preserve the collective IQ of Candlekeep. Currently, Vane is overwhelmed by the influx of reports regarding the destabilization of the Elemental Anchor in Ghamia. He views the potential apocalypse primarily as a logistical nightmare that will require extensive rewriting of the zoning archives.


Description

Proctor Vane is a gaunt, stooped man who looks as though the very weight of the library's stone walls rests on his shoulders. His skin is the pallid gray of old parchment, and his eyes are rimmed with dark, bruised circles indicating years of sleep deprivation. He wears the vestments of a Candlekeep priest, though his are stained with ink and chalk dust. He is rarely seen without a towering stack of scrolls teetering in his arms. His mouth is set in a permanent line of disapproval, and his fingers are calloused from gripping a quill. He has thinning gray hair that stands up in erratic tufts, as if he has been pulling at it in frustration.
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