Valeris

🔈 (vuh-LAIR-iss)

Currently in Amberglow, the Feywild, Multiverse

Valeris
Valeris, the satyr, at Sunwine Hall

Valeris is a satyr, a storyteller, musician and gambler, cursed to speak only the absolute truth, unable even to sugar coat his words with lies of omission. No longer able to bluff at cards, embellish stories, or even tell a good joke anymore, he spends his days drinking and frustrated in Sunwine Hall.

He is lean and rakish, with curling ram’s horns wrapped in gold rings, and half-buttoned silk shirt. His eyes twinkle with mischief he can no longer act on, and his mouth twitches constantly, but whether in irritation or the desperate effort to hold his tongue is hard to tell.

For many years, Valeris lingered at Sunwine Hall, frustrated and isolated. He had been told that a truly selfless act could potentially end the curse, but at Lord Soven’s revel there was never any opportunity for a selfless act. Or, perhaps more accurately, all of his attempts fell flat because he was motivated by the desire to end the curse, not true selflessness.

So Valeris remained, stuck.

Until, in DR 1749, the Dunmar Fellowship arrived in Emberwine, seeking to find their way into Amberglow to find the Prismwell and free the Cloudspinner. Valeris offered himself as a traveling companion, hoping the journey might offer a selfless deed. He traveled through Emberwine and into Amberglow with the party, until at Redsun Watch the Dunmar Fellowship confronted the forces of Harrow and Wend and found a route to the Prismwell.

After the Cloudspinner was freed on Jun 13, 1749 DR, Valeris remained in Amberglow to help restore the realm, hoping this could provide a selfless act that might lead to freedom from his curse.

Valeris, on the Origin of HIs Curse

“It’s a long story, and honestly, I’m pretty sick of telling it. But if you insist—I can’t really say no. I mean, I literally can’t refuse.

“It was a while ago. I grew up here in Emberwine, not close to Sunwine Hall, but not far from it. It’s a beautiful place; just looking around, you have to admit that. Everybody comes to the revel. You can’t live in Emberwine without enjoying it.

“One time I came here, and there was this woman: Yasara the Golden. She was beautiful, aloof, radiant. She wasn’t from here. She was from Everlight’s Bloom. Honestly, I don’t think she should ever have left Everlight’s Bloom. What was she doing here? She didn’t fit in.

“She walked through the world as if it were a story she was only half aware of. She liked to dance, and she made extravagant promises that never seemed to cost her anything. But one shouldn’t swear oaths in the Feywild that one doesn’t intend to keep. She swore that she would love her dance partner forever. Everybody knew it wasn’t true.

“I don’t know why I thought I should step in. I think I was arrogant. It was a challenge: could I tell a story that would bend fate itself? Maybe I felt sorry for her.

“But I didn’t really do it for her. If I’m being honest—which I have to be—I did it because I wanted to prove that I could twist fate myself. A gambler who could change reality with stories? Come on. Isn’t that the best thing you could say of yourself?

“And, to be brutally honest, I did it. I told a tale so compelling and strong that reality shifted around it, and her oath was undone.

“And I could never lie again. Damn it. Why did I waste my time with that stupid lady?

“Anyway, that’s what happened. And now I’m cursed to be blunt.”

Settings