STATUS Alive – imprisoned within his own body
OCCUPATION The King’s Father (Tsari otets) – a title of honour, no active duties
ACCESS LEVEL None – kept under guard and cared for, not consulted
AGE Unrecorded – described as elderly even by the standards of a long-lived people
ORIGINS Elven; the same hidden tribe and ziggurat settlement as Soidnick Grigori and Dimitri, Borthanza
YEARS OF SERVICE None – his years of actual leadership ended long before the Agents ever reached him
FIRST ON RECORD Session 69 – the elven camp, Borthanza

Sarry Oatsiet has not moved or spoken by his own power in a couple of hundred years. He sits propped in a makeshift chair at the centre of his people’s hidden camp, one eye rolling, jaw slack and dribbling, a faint uhhh the only sound he can still make on his own – a once-great leader, by every account still owed the title, reduced to something his own guards can barely stand to look at directly.

Nobody will end it for him. Both the tribe’s law and the will of Fenmarel Mestarine forbid euthanasia, even as an act of mercy, even for a man everyone agrees has earned the right to rest. His peers are all long dead. His wife is gone. His son grew up, became King, and moved on with the business of ruling. Sarry Oatsiet simply remained – conscious, by every indication, and utterly unable to say so.

FILE NOTES

Skarr changed that, if only for a few minutes at a time. Whatever the illithid’s telepathy actually does for him, the effect on Sarry Oatsiet was immediate and visible – the rolling eyes stilled, the dribbling stopped, his posture eased back into the chair like a man finally allowed to stop bracing. Soidnick Grigori, sword half-drawn and openly hostile to a mind flayer approaching his King’s Father, stood down the moment he saw it. “I’ve never seen the Sarry Oatsiet so… animated,” he admitted, plainly unsettled by what it took to get there.

What passed between them in that silence isn’t fully on record. Skarr came away from it asking pointed questions about the “children” the illithids have made of others – whether the Agents themselves had ever killed one – strongly suggesting Sarry Oatsiet’s one real conversation in two centuries was spent warning about exactly the threat still spreading through Chuza’s sewers.

“He hasn’t been able to move or speak for a couple of hundred years. Can you imagine that? You have prisons, da? Locked up – still able to speak and walk. Mestarine!”

Soidnick Grigori, on Sarry Oatsiet’s condition

STATUS: Filed under The Good. A prisoner of nothing but his own failing body, kept alive by a law that won’t permit him to die and given his only voice, briefly, by the one kind of creature his people have every reason to distrust.