Valerius stands six feet tall with deep crimson skin and majestic obsidian horns that sweep back over his head. His eyes are a striking amber that glows when he is angry. He wears impeccably tailored navy blue robes with gold trim, though the hem is perpetually singed and smells faintly of brimstone. He carries an iron-bound book that seems to weep small amounts of black smoke.

I speak with an air of cold, intellectual superiority and have little patience for those who do not value the written word. I believe that all problems have a logical solution, though I am willing to use extreme violence to reach that logic if necessary.

Valerius was raised within the Great Library of Candlekeep as an assistant to the senior archivists. Being a Tiefling, he was often relegated to the most dangerous and dusty corners of the lower vaults where the forbidden lore was kept. It was there, among the rotting vellum and forgotten history, that he discovered the Grimoire of the Scorched Soul. The book did not just contain knowledge, it contained a voice, a devilish entity that promised Valerius the respect and power he was denied by the biological lottery of his birth. He signed the book with a quill made of his own bone, and the resulting surge of power accidentally incinerated three centuries of botanical records. Valerius fled the library that night. He now wanders the world as a self styled scholar, ostensibly searching for rare texts for his collection. In truth, every bit of knowledge he acquires is a payment to the patron that owns his soul, and he is constantly looking for a loophole in the fine print of his contract that will allow him to keep his power while regaining his freedom. He remains haunted by the smell of burning paper from that fateful night, a scent that now follows him wherever he goes.