Eramir is an NPC that can be found in The Forest Encampment in Act 2 and in The Bridge Encampment in Act 7.
Eramir was formerly a librarian in the Great Library of Oriath. He has found his place in the Azmeri tribe on Wraeclast and is content to offer his knowledge and help to exiles who pass through the encampment.
Lore[ | ]
While he is also an exile and not of the Azmeri, Eramir appears to be almost universally respected throughout The Forest Encampment for his vast knowledge and wisdom. He appears to know much more about the Azmeri history than they do themselves and he shares his knowledge with them in gratitude for accepting him and giving him a new home.
He can, however, be overly fearful on some matters, and it appears his universal solution for dealing with any potentially dangerous artifact is throwing it into the river.
Dialogues[ | ]
Eramir is voiced by veteran New Zealand actor, Ken Blackburn.
Act 2[ | ]
Introduction[ | ]
I've seen many an exile come and go, into the forest or into the ground. You seem different somehow. Different good, different bad, it's hard to tell at this stage.
The name is Eramir, and for now you have the benefit of my doubt.
The Azmeri[ | ]
The Azmeri. The culture that descended from the Azmerian Mountains and founded the Eternal Empire, so long ago. Not that these people have any understanding of their lineage. Their history, identity … all but destroyed in the cataclysm.
These Azmeri took in a disowned son of Oriath, fed me, healed me. To repay my debt, I’ve taken in the orphans of a dead empire.
Yeena[ | ]
A large heart yet so little sense to go with it. Yeena dabbles in things she should not. This 'Spirit' she obsesses over. If she is not careful, she will find herself joining it.
Greust[ | ]
Greust is the strong right arm of this tribe. No man hunts better, and no man could do more to protect the ones he loves.
Silk[ | ]
Tales and songs are Silk's meat and drink. Would have made a fine bard in the old Empire. Were a fraction of what he says true, we'd have nothing to fear from bandit nor beast with Silk among us.
Blackguards[ | ]
The High Templar's Blackguards? They're here, rubbing shoulders with us mere exiles? A mystery indeed, and so near the Chamber of Sins. Whatever they want with that foul place, it won't be for the betterment of humanity.
The Chamber of Sins[ | ]
The Chamber of Sins? Apparently the late Archbishop Geofri of Phrecia gave it that title. It was built by Emperor Chitus for one Inquisitor Maligaro.
How do I know this? To my shame, I did Dominus’ dirty work in the selfish hopes of scholarly advancement. I scoured fragments of documents brought back by Fairgraves – and Daresso, before his disgrace. I unearthed all I could on the Eternal Empire’s masters and mistresses of thaumaturgy, a subject of keen interest to our supposedly devout High Templar.
If I were you, I’d avoid Maligaro’s old laboratory. A place of illness infected by a diseased mind.
Dominus[ | ]
I embraced the patronage that High Templar Dominus offered my struggling museum. I took his favour and conducted his research into the thaumaturgical arts practiced within the Eternal Empire.
I wish I’d known then what I know now. That I was pandering to the warped dreams of a madman.
Blocked Passage[ | ]
I've read about Shavronne of Umbra, and what she did to the Warden at Axiom. You did well to end Brutus' sorry existence.
But Shavronne's barricade, that's sad news indeed. There is little enough freedom in Wraeclast as it is, but to be stranded on that dismal coast... I pity the exiles to come.
Would I know how to lower the barricade? Afraid not. I was a bit distracted the last time I took the pass. Hungry goatmen to avoid on that side, Alira's thralls on this side.
Helena[ | ]
I have spoken with Helena, of Dominus and his expedition. It all sounds horribly plausible. Whether we can fully trust what she tells us… time will tell if her torn loyalties mend in our favour.
Bandit Lords (all bandits alive)[ | ]
Those bandits you’ve encountered out there… they’re the dregs of Oriath. And with any foul broth, the nastiest chunks bubble to the surface.
The Lords of Larceny… Oak, Kraityn and Alira… the self-appointed monarchs of the forest. Kraityn in the east. Alira in the west. Oak in the north. And this village, this tribe… we pay their taxes.
I would never venture to say that life in Wraeclast is easy, but with those three gone… well, living here might just become possible.
Bandit Lords (Kraityn is dead)[ | ]
The scarred one is no more? I wish I could say that this bodes well for us, but with Kraityn gone, Oak and Alira will only grow stronger.
Bandit Lords (Oak is dead)[ | ]
The giant is no more? I wish I could say that this bodes well for us, but with Oak gone, Kraityn and Alira will only grow stronger.
Bandit Lords (Alira is dead)[ | ]
The sorceress is no more? I wish I could say that this bodes well for us, but with Alira gone, Kraityn and Oak will only grow stronger.
Bandit Lords (Oak and Alira are dead)[ | ]
You have done what none of us could, not even the fierce Greust. And while we are grateful, we dare not sleep with both eyes shut just yet.
The balance of power has gone. In overthrowing a Lord and a Lady, you have created a tyrant in Kraityn.
Bandit Lords (Kraityn and Alira are dead)[ | ]
You have done what none of us could, not even the fierce Greust. And while we are grateful, we dare not sleep with both eyes shut just yet.
The balance of power has gone. In overthrowing a Lord and a Lady, you have created a despot in Oak.
Bandit Lords (Kraityn and Oak are dead)[ | ]
You have done what none of us could, not even the fierce Greust. And while we are grateful, we dare not sleep with both eyes shut just yet.
The balance of power has gone. In overthrowing two Lords, you have created an empress in Alira.
Bandit Lords (all bandits are dead)[ | ]
There’s greatness in you. You’ve prove that without a doubt. And whether you’ve destroyed the bandits for us, or for your own ends, it matters not at all. You’ve given us back our home, and our future.
The Darkness[ | ]
You disappear into that Vall ruin and now the sky, the light, the very land limps as a leper. Somehow, whether through deliberate act or accident, you’ve caused this. Now we all suffer your consequences.
Different good, different bad… we now know upon which side the coin has fallen.
The Baleful Gem[ | ]
Show me this gem from the Chamber of Sins. It has the aspect of a Virtue Gem, like those you carry already… yet it’s clearly not made to slot into any of your standard equipment.
Look at the colour. Feel the energy coming off it. Maligaro had a little virtue in mind when he made this thing.
Maligaro’s Spike[ | ]
Could be the nasty piece of work Silk picked up near the Chamber of Sins. Look too much like Maligaro’s dark science to me.
If you can talk to Silk into giving it to you, do history a favour, and sink that spike to the bottom of the river.
Maligaro’s Creations[ | ]
The Baleful Gem and Maligaro’s Spike. I’d wager these two grotesqueries were made for each other. A marriage born in darkness.
My advice? Send them to their wedding bed: the river bed.
The Light[ | ]
Humanity have one redeeming trait. We learn from our mistakes. You certainly gave us a scare for a bit there, but the damage doesn’t seem to have been lasting.
Thank you, for doing the right thing.
Ancient Gateway[ | ]
That ancient gateway to the northwest, it’s a peculiar thing. Not of the Eternal Empire. It could be Vaal in origin… a culture I’ve seen mentioned here and there in some of the most antique of texts.
It is the Vaal who began the use of Virtue Gems, well before our imperial ancestors. Little else is known about them. If only I had my old museum archives, I could have given you a more tempered theory.
Lorrata[ | ]
You’ve put an end to old Lorrata? Twisted of heart and mind where the man who made that gem and that implemented of black surgery. And what of the one who chooses the wield their creations?
Of course I wished to know the secrets locked in that tomb. But not at the cost of such grand, old life.
Fellshrine Ruins[ | ]
The Fellshrine is a shadow of what was once good in Wraeclast.
That sigil etched into its stones? It’s a Descry, from when the Templar truly stood for something. To the ancestors of Oriath, the Descry was a flickering torch in the night. A source of inspiration and comfort.
Sad things about torches… they go out.
Act 7[ | ]
Greetings[ | ]
Ah yes, you do seem to have a penchant for presenting yourself when times are at their most… perplexing.
It would seem that our Almighty has forsaken us. False deities from ages past now rise and ravage while our blessed Innocence remains as silent as the stones at my feet. So much for Templar propaganda, eh?
Well, I suppose if we are to fend for ourselves, then I should answer your troubling arrival with our own most pressing tribulation.
Ralakesh[ | ]
Yes, Ralakesh, the god of many faces. I read about this god when I looked after the museum in Theopolis. It’s said he was obsessed with governance, in particular, the control of humanity through our base, animal instincts. He ruled over the citizens of one unfortunate Vaal city. Alas, the name escapes me.
Yet I do recall that his experiments brought his subject to the brink of extinction and that he was forced to enslave many a primitive Azmerian of the time so as to repopulate his domain.
Though I shudder at the thought, I can only imagine that Ralakesh has rather similar plans now.
Silk[ | ]
It started with a few mumblings in his slumber, then long forays into the wilds, searching for relics of a distinctly arachnid nature. I thought it a natural extension of Silk’s eccentric persona at first. Then came the sleepless nights studying those relics, the fevered recitations in broken Vaalish, the strange eight phase rituals…
Then one night Silk gathered his collection and scuttled off into the darkness without a word. Silk has always been susceptible to fine fictions. Perhaps he has finally shunned reality altogether.
Silk (after finishing “Web of Secrets” quest)[ | ]
What? He’s intending to make matrimony with Arakaali? My word, that’s quite a story even for Silk!
Yes, I know that name and the place to which it is purportedly attached. A temple to the north, now in ruins. If Silk intends unholy congress with this Arakaali, that is the most likely place we would seek it.
Silk (after defeating Arakaali)[ | ]
Poor Silk. Like so many before him, Silk succumbed to a most insidious disease. Ambition. That craving for greatness. An irresistible compulsion to leave one’s mark on the world. There’s another name for marks like that. Scars.
Weylam[ | ]
A fascinating case that flies in the face of all that is natural. Weylam is undead for sure, something we have in spades in Wraeclast, but a sentient, reasonable ghost? Now that is rare indeed.
When we talk, I feel as if I am starting into the breach, witnessing that which man was not meant to know. I have theorised about what animates the pirate’s essence, how he manages to manifest on this earth once again. I think I shall compile my observations and speculations into a book. Yes… Eramir’s Elucidations of Undeath. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
Arakaali[ | ]
From what I can recall, Arakaali was a Vaal fertility goddess, a rather unsettling union of sexuality and mortality. Whilst usually presenting herself as a large arachnid, Arakaali would often assume human form, a ruse intended to lure mortals into the act of copulation. The entries were vague about the gender of her prey.
After satiating her carnal desires, she would then quench her divine thirst, draining her erstwhile lover of all bodily fluid. Her acolytes would then collect the dessicated husk and give it a decorative placement in Arakaali’s unholy temple.
I fear that Silk knows not the true nature of the ‘marriage’ he so desperately seeks.
Arakaali’s Temple[ | ]
Unfortunately, Arakaali’s temple lies beyond that which now belongs to Ralakesh. To reach the many-legged goddess you must first draw to some conclusion with the many-faced god.
Gruthkul[ | ]
Yes, I know of Gruthkul, the grieving mother. She featured quite prominently in some of the Vaal texts I restored during my time at the museum in Theopolis.
After the deaths of her children, Queen Gruthkul fled north, eventually finding respite amongst the refugee of her own shattered realm. Yet these loyalist saw their own queen as a weapon, a tool for vengeance. They nurtured her pain, transfiguring sorrow into hatred, hatred into violence. Like a grizzled bear, Gruthkul descended into animalism and ferocity. Yet her caretakers foolishly underestimated the agony their bereaved queen harboured in her heart. Like a bear caught in a trap, Gruthkul wrenched free of her human loyalties and slew her followers to the last woman and child. It was through devastation Gruthkul ascended to divinity.
Gruthkul’s pain has transcended ages and she will vent that pain upon any and all she encounters until her grief is finally laid to rest.