Kaelor Stonescour is a Sun Elf whose life has been one long experiment in humility—an uncomfortable condition for anyone of his lineage. Born among the gleaming towers of Evereska, he grew up surrounded by pristine marble, impeccable architecture, and elders who insisted that stone should be shaped, not touched. Kaelor, however, preferred touching it. Preferably while smashing it apart. His fascination with raw earth and quarried stone earned him more lectures than praise. Elven stonemasonry, after all, is an art of delicacy, symmetry, and centuries-long patience. Kaelor preferred the dwarven style—hammer, sweat, stubbornness, and enough noise to wake the Ancestral Fathers. His instructors called him 'unrefined.' He took it as a compliment. After the chaos of the Mount Hotenow eruption, Kaelor traveled north to Neverwinter, determined to prove himself in a city rebuilding from ash. He joined dwarven salvage teams in the ruined Tower District, learning the rhythms of stone fractured by heat and magic. The dwarves found his enthusiasm exhausting, his optimism suspicious, and his lack of beard deeply unsettling—but they could not deny his work ethic. When he lifted a collapsed lintel beam by himself to free a trapped worker, he earned his first grudging nod of approval. Kaelor claims he treasures that nod more than half the medals Evereska awarded him. Stonescour Holdings began as a single rented storeroom and grew into a bustling stoneworks specializing in reclaimed masonry—blocks carved from collapsed walls, rubble transmuted back into clean slabs, and rare volcanic glass polished into obsidian tiles. Kaelor installed shrines to Moradin along the workshop walls, not from faith but respect. The dwarves know he does not kneel there, but they also know he keeps the altars dust-free and the offerings honest. The workshop is loud, hot, and perpetually coated in rock dust. Dwarven masons bellow advice at him; Kaelor bellows back like he's been doing it his whole life. He still works with elegance, but it is the elegance of controlled power, not delicate elven artistry. His hands, once soft from Evereskan comforts, are now calloused and scarred—and he wears those marks proudly. Customers trust Stonescour Holdings for three reasons: the materials are strong, the work is fast, and Kaelor refuses to embellish a lie even when it's profitable. He tells clients exactly how long a wall will last, what faults lie hidden in a foundation, and whether a stone has been touched by lingering magic. His honesty frustrates corrupt guildmasters and delights adventurers who want their fortifications to stay standing. Privately, Kaelor hopes to craft something that will outlast him—a bridge, a hall, perhaps even a restored wing of the scarred Merchant Guild Hall. Not for glory, but because he wants to reshape the world with his own hands rather than the expectations he was born into. The dwarves still don’t call him 'brother,' not yet. But they do call him 'Stonescour,' and in dwarven company, a good name earned through sweat is worth more than any elven title.