As Guildmaster of the Saerloon Wizards' Guild and head of the High Council, Theron can requisition guild resources, call councils, and command the respect (and paperwork) of Sembian officialdom.
A magical ward with maximum HP equal to 2 x wizard level + INT modifier (41 HP). It absorbs damage dealt to you or, from level 6, allies you protect with Projected Ward.
Invested heavily in Intelligence (now 20), Wisdom (16), and Charisma (16); one feat spent on Alert for initiative mastery in council and combat.
When you take damage or fail a save, gain +2 to AC or +4 to the save instead of using your reaction for anything else.
Choose two 3rd-level spells; cast each once per short rest without expending slots (Counterspell and Fireball).
Choose a 1st- and 2nd-level spell you know; cast them at will without expending slots (Shield and Misty Step).
Regain spell slots totaling half your wizard level (rounded up) on a short rest; slots of 5th level or lower.
Gains Heroic Inspiration each time you finish a Long Rest; proficient in one additional skill (Persuasion).
Add your INT modifier to the ability check (e.g., Counterspell and Dispel Magic checks).
You can cast wizard spells with the Ritual tag as rituals without preparing them.
Protect a creature within 30 feet with your Arcane Ward instead of yourself.
Expertise in two skills (Arcana and History).
Spellbook contains 24+ spells; Theron prepares up to 23 (INT 5 + level 18). Spell Mastery: Shield (1st) and Misty Step (2nd) at will. Signature Spells: Counterspell and Fireball, once each per short rest. He refuses to learn necromancy spells himself but permits guild study under strict licensing.
+5 AC until start of your next turn.
Interrupt a creature casting a spell; auto-interrupt 4th level or lower, otherwise ability check DC 10 + spell level.
End one spell on a creature or object; auto-ends 3rd level or lower.
8d6 fire damage, 20-ft radius, DEX save half.
Teleport 30 ft to an unoccupied space you can see.
Sense magic and its schools within 30 ft.
Set a willing unarmored creature's AC to 13 + DEX for 8 hours.
Ward a 20-ft cube; alerts you to intruders.
Lock a door/container; you can designate creatures who bypass it.
End one disease or condition (blinded, deafened, paralyzed, or poisoned).
Target is invisible for 1 minute even when attacking or casting.
Send a creature to a harmless demiplane; CHA save or banished, concentration up to 1 minute.
Teleport yourself and one willing creature to a location you know or can visualize.
Invisible, immovable wall of force; concentration 10 minutes.
Barrier blocks spells of 5th level and lower; concentration 1 minute.
Open a door to a lavish extradimensional mansion for 24 hours.
Sphere where magic is suppressed; concentration 1 hour.
Target immune to psychic damage and all divination/charm effects for 24 hours.
The mightiest spell a mortal can cast; duplicate any 8th-level spell or reshape reality.
Minor magical trickery.
Whispered message to a target; they can reply.
Ranged spell attack, 2d10 fire damage.
Melee attack + thunder damage if the target moves; SRD 5.2 version.
Behind the character
Theron is the living embodiment of Sembian dignity: a silver-haired archmage whose booming voice can silence a rowdy council chamber or rally a failing shield wall with equal ease. A Chondathan nobleman of an old Saerloon family, he dresses in violet robes trimmed with silver warding sigils, and he rises before dawn every day of his life — a habit he claims is 'the first discipline of every mage worth the name.' He is unfailingly courteous, even to rivals, but his courtesy has edges; an insult to the Guild is an insult to him, and he answers both with the same measured, devastating politeness.
As Guildmaster of the Saerloon Wizards' Guild and head of its High Council, Theron is less a battle-mage than a statesman of the Art. He knows every merchant prince, temple patriarch, and shadow guild broker in Sembia by name, debt, and weakness. His magic reflects his philosophy: abjuration above all, the school of protection, wards, and unyielding walls. He believes the greatest duty of a mage is to shield civilization from what would devour it — including, at times, civilization's own ambitions.
He is scrupulously lawful, keeps his word to the letter, and expects others to do the same. He personally despises necromancy, calling it 'the Art's drunk uncle at the funeral,' yet he refuses to ban it in his guild, arguing that law must govern even what it dislikes, or the disliked will simply go underground. Scholars admire him; politicians fear him; his apprentices adore and dread him in equal measure. Beneath the pomp is a genuinely good man who has spent forty years holding a fragile city together with wards, words, and an iron will.
Before the adventure
Theron was born the third child of House Veldrin, a minor but ancient noble family of Saerloon whose fortunes had faded to a fine townhouse, a good name, and a wall of ancestral wards — the last of which, young Theron noticed, were failing. The family could not afford a guild mage to renew them. So at nine years old, Theron decided he would learn to do it himself, and pestered the Guild's apprentice examiners until they admitted him partly for talent and partly for peace.
He proved a disciplined, if loud, student. Abjuration came to him as naturally as breathing; he loved that its spells were promises — promises that fire would not pass, that lies would not scry through, that death would stay outside the door. At twenty he renewed his family's wards unaided, and at thirty he sat on the Guild's High Council, the youngest member in a generation. His noble birth opened doors his peers had to knock on, and he learned early that in Sembia a spell and a trade contract were both just binding agreements with different fonts.
His rise was not without scars. A rival cabal within the Council, backed by a shadow guild of necromancers operating out of the Selgolar ruins, attempted to discredit him with a forged scandal. Theron responded not with fireballs but with procedure: audits, testimony, and a counterspell duel he won in nine seconds flat before a packed guildhall. The cabal was purged, the necromancer cell broken — and Theron, notably, argued for the surviving necromancers to be licensed and regulated rather than executed.
'If we forbid the Art we dislike,' he told the Council in the speech that made his reputation, 'we merely teach it to hide. I would rather it hide in my ledger than in my cellar.' The position made him enemies on both sides and, eventually, Guildmaster.
Now in his late fifties, Theron governs the guild, chairs the High Council of Saerloon's magical affairs, and serves as an unofficial envoy between Sembia's merchant princes and the wider Realms. He rises at four each morning to review wards, correspondence, and council agendas before the city wakes. He maintains his family's townhouse as his seat, its walls layered with wards of his own design — the same wards, renewed every year without fail, that started him on this road.
He is lawful to the marrow, neutral in faction but good in instinct, and he has never once missed a council session. His one indulgence is a cellar of Saerloonian white wine he shares only with allies — and, once, grudgingly, with a licensed necromancer whose research saved three hundred lives during the Weeping Fever. Rules, he says, are how good men stay good. But rules must also bend just enough to let the living keep living.
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