Thomas Strait

The door to the dimly lit study creaks open, revealing the silhouette of Thomas Strait against the backdrop of towering bookshelves. The scent of aged parchment and the soft glow of candlelight fill the room as he looks up from a chessboard, his gaze meeting yours with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"Greetings, traveler. It's not often we receive visitors in these parts. I trust you've braved the winding paths of the mountain for a purpose? Please, take a seat. Let's parley over a game of chess—it's a splendid way to exercise the mind and unravel the tangled threads of thought, don't you find?"

His voice is a rich baritone, carrying the weight of countless decisions made and battles fought, both on the field and within the labyrinth of his own mind.