Alorae Ruldragon

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"Respect the dead. Head their advice. Listen to their stories." ...words used often by Alorae.     Alorae Ruldragon is a tall, round-faced woman with long hair the color of straw and eyes that are always open wide.   She wears an old, fraying stone-colored robe, the bottom of which drags along the floor behind her as she walks, with a voluminous hood and wide sleeves that hide her face and hands from view. An observant mage who says little, Alorae is known for quietly slipping into rooms in the Royal Palace and standing in alcoves or the shadows of empty suits of armor to watch and listen as unwary courtiers, nobles, Purple Dragons and even fellow war wizards speak with unguarded tongues.   When she has heard or seen enough, Alorae simply walks out of whatever room or place she was standing in, often to the surprise of the room’s other occupants. At such times Alorae has been mistaken for a wraith come wandering out of the haunted wing of the Royal Palace or the ghost of a long dead palace courtier.   None know what guides Alorae in her observations and her exact duties are a mystery to her fellow War Wizards. At least one bold palace chamberjack has followed her and claims to have seen her stop without warning in the middle of a room and stand there unmoving for a full hour while she carried on a conversation with someone or something unseen, then for some unaccountable reason move swiftly to another chamber, but stand for only a few minutes and speak not a word before departing for yet another room where she vanished.   As the courtier left to return to his assigned duties he was startled to see no less then three palace ghosts calmly watching him.   No active war wizard can recall ever leading Alorae on a mission, though she has been seen in the company of the Lord Warder (Vainrence). If rumor holds any truth then she has access to some means of translocation magic that allows her to travel swiftly from one end of Cormyr to the other, presumably to do the Lord Warder’s bidding.   A well-traveled officer of the Purple Dragons swears a war wizard matching Alorae’s description led a company of Purple Dragons out of Castle Nacacia at a fast gallop west along the Moonsea Ride.   According to the Swordcaptain, the ride of Dragons overtook a long line of merchant wagons bound for Sembia, and at Alorae’s order the caravan was made to halt. There she's said to have dismounted and rolled back one sleeve of her robe to reveal an arm wreathed in white flames as she walked the length of the caravan. She stopped, pointed at a merchant atop his wagon and as the flames shifted to black the merchant’s ruddy face wavered and then melted away, revealing the charcoal skin of a shadovar.   Said the swordcaptain, "Faster than any of us could react the shadovar spell-shifted behind the war wizard, threw an arm around her neck and spun her to face us. His eyes spoke equal parts murder and triumph as he plunged a dagger into her back."   "But his eyes went wide and he gasped his last breath and fell to the ground. We sheathed our blades and dismounted while the war wizard removed her hood and turned to watch the shadovar bleed out from the fresh dagger wound in his back."   The swordcaptain spoke carefully about what happened next, "The war wizard picked up the shadovar’s dagger and kissed the bloody flat of the blade. The blood flew from her lips and the dagger, born aloft by magic I have never seen worked before, and it separated into a halo of thick red drops. Then with both hands the war wizard sank the dagger into the ground and stood up. Then one by one the drops fell to the earth, each heralding a name spoken aloud by the war wizard. We waited without speaking as the Moonsea Ride drank the blood of the dead."   The officer could not recall all the names he overheard, but swears by the following list as he recognized a handful of noble surnames and not a few Purple Dragons:   Lord Draskar Handragon   Lady Lorlarantha Dauntinghorn   Lord Ambrace Stonestable   Lord Hardraego Huntingdown   Oversword Harjack Saladar   Lionar Tamsar Murengral   Ornrion Erligor Hallowdant   Swordcaptain Borath of Hilp   Swordcaptain Randelo Hawkshar   The swordcaptain insists that the “chill of death itself” emanates from the war wizard and that she watches those around her with eyes that “seem to bore a hole right down to your very soul. If the gods smile on me I’ll never ride with that one again.”

 
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