Lars St. Morning Glory

Lars St.Morningglory, 14th level human – Wizard – S:12, D:12, C:12, I:15, W:15, Ch:12

= Early Life

Written in the hand of Lars St. Morning Glory

"As I awoke, I wondered if I had ever wanted to remain within the heat of my bed as much as I did that morning. It was too early, and cold enough inside of my room that my nose was at the point before going numb. I retreated under my covers and at least for the moment, denied myself to wonder what outside felt like. I could hear sounds coming from outside of my slim windows into my bedroom. I discerned that they were from workers clearing out rubble from the pit and focused on the noises my father’s staff was making outside of my door. My father[inosus] had earned his place in the city through his military service and was well known for his skills and exploits during the wars. The City had awarded him one of the four towers above the main complex, the room where its base and the castle met, and a post in the Department of Strategy and Defense. He didn’t have much help, so he had every man in his service work twice as hard for him as they would for any other lord in the castle and he expected nothing less from me. I could hear the morning preparations going in a rush, even though the staff was in a slightly better spirit than usual. They were loud and my room was not fit to ignore the sounds of labor as its door opened into the main room. The castle stones would have been more than enough to drown out my father’s peons, but my room was fashioned at the base of the tower and had wooden interior walls that held no sound in or out.

My father paid for my studies and asked to see progress, but had little else to do with me that I thought being a father should entail. He had volunteered me for the mission setting out that morning at a meeting the week before but waited to tell me until the night before I was to depart. I wouldn’t have cared that he volunteered me for service, except he forgot that I was scheduled to graduate the following day. I figured out later that he didn’t forget, he was too young to be senile and most likely had me miss my final exams on purpose. He often spoke against the tests calling them a waste of energy, but I saw little difference from what I would do for my teacher and what he asked me to demonstrate for him. Father hated laziness more than he despised showoffs and he would do all that he could to keep me from forgetting it. Although my teacher was lenient, I could see that my father had cautioned him against letting me rely on my skills, as limited as they were. Instead of creating light, I was ordered to light candles. I was forbidden practical use of my knowledge, which made no sense to me since I would need much practice if I were to be of any help to the city after finishing my studies. But I found solace in thinking that I had studied under the only teacher in Ka’apasart worth learning anything from, therefore had more to show than most students. He was the most knowledgeable teacher, but above that, Simondaeal was the most willing to teach. He taught in short, clear lessons that always held more than one key idea, allowing me to learn much faster. However, because of his many obligations in our city, Simondaeal took on few apprentices. I came under his instruction because he and my father had been friends for longer than I had lived. My classmate Kiolus, a high spirited youth with a fiery mane counted on strong sponsorship to keep him in our master’s care. Kiolus was a good classmate and an even better friend, we had only minimal disagreements and he was the only other person I knew could hold a meaningful conversation about meaningless things.

I roused myself after sleeping the extra five minutes my father normally allowed. That morning I figured he could allow ten, but I hadn’t made a pack the night before so I would do so then. As the student of a duel champion, I learned quickly to be ready for anything, so my backpack was always at hand with my book and supplies. I was not sure what to take so I gathered only socks and a change of clothes a bit warmer than I would normally wear, we wouldn’t be gone long so I didn’t worry about much else. My packs made, I took a look around my room. It was Spartan. But I did nothing other than sleep there, so I walked out without regretting anything left behind save my warm bed, yet that was most likely cold by now.

I was nineteen and had none of the ambitions that others my age did, even Kiolus showed more drive in his studies than I, and he spent half of his days chasing girls. In contrast, I was glad to be done with the endless memory exercises and research. I would not miss the painstaking preparations Simondaeal had us do for him in his study. I felt as if I would lash out against anyone who asked me to grind powder or collect pollen after this week. I had thought about what I would do after my studies ended, but came up with few ideas. Perhaps I’d take a post preparing others to help keep our homeland safe from the foreign threats that the elders spent days warning about. Though I was thankful for my education, and for the fact that my father hadn’t enlisted me in the military itself, it was hard not to be cynical of the elders and their fears that I never saw reasons for. Ka’apasart had known battle, but had never been attacked itself. It was on the side of a cold mountain looking out to the steppe of kaanastad from where we could see all threats before they reached our walls. The buildings were constructed close together so the citizens themselves could fend off any foreign military that found a way to penetrate our gates. But besides our city’s strange visitor, no one had gotten past our guards, and even this sad whelp had died after reaching the inner walls.

I walked out to the main room and found myself alone. The workers I had heard earlier must have finished and moved on with their tasks as the corridors were now quiet. I started to head up the stair case toward my father’s chambers at the height of the tower only to hear his voice call me back down and toward the main hallway. I reached the staircase where I could see my master looking out, but no doubt, my father was waiting for us to meet him. When he turned, I gave Sammondael a happy salute to which he smiled. I hadn’t noticed that my posture was lacking, but it only took my teacher a second to correct my stance and straighten my back with one word and a slight motion. His smile grew even more.

-fair morn, Lars- he said -fair morn, Master, Father- I replied Sammondael commented -your pack looks light- -I won’t be gone long- I said questioningly as I smiled -In that case you won’t need what I have for you-

My eyes opened in question and widened further when I noticed the elongated case in his right hand. Scrolls!

-you will most likely fare well without these, but as you’ll miss the ceremony tomorrow, I thought I’d give them to you now.- he said, - I won’t have my student go unprepared.-

He held the leather case out to me and I reached for it, always conscious of my father’s gaze on me, thankful that if I were ever to take a shortcut in his presence, this would be the time. Sammondael smiled and put a hand on my shoulder as if to say…I didn’t know what he wanted to say, but it felt good. Father cleared his throat and waited a second to begin speaking.

-I also have something for you Lars.-

My mind ran wild with ideas of what my father had for me. I knew a few stories of him and Sammondael in the wars, but they fought so long ago that I could only wonder if my father’s gift was of that origin. He held out a small rectangular leather pouch with a belt looped through it. It was heavy and well made, more durable than ornate. I looked in with great expectations, and held back a cringe when I saw that he had given me a set of daggers. Four plain blades made of steel with short hilts wrapped in thin leather. The gift was useless to me, I didn’t know how to wield daggers, much less throw them, which I figured was their intended purpose by their streamline make. I was thankful, however, that father had shown affection to me, or at least worry for me and smiled at him as a soldier might smile at his commanding officer.

-Thank you, father.-

I wanted to comment on their make, or compliment the case the daggers were fastened inside, but neither happened. Instead I did the best I could to seem eager to wrap the belt around my waist. Once I had buckled the belt, I stood straight and looked at my father standing next to my teacher. I hadn’t noticed how similar in height we all were, and I got the slightest feeling that I was standing among peers. But it faded when father said

-It’s time, Lars-

We made our way down the spiraling steps until we reached the bottom floor, bypassing the floors where some of the best and some of the dirtiest work was done. When we reached the front exit, the doors were open and guards were watching our approach. They nodded to my father and teacher and looked at me questioningly for a half-second that felt like eternal judgment. We walked past the guards to feel the spring air tax our faces and bring tears to our eyes.

The city council was gathered there and some of the citizens that stood around seemed eager to learn about recent events. I followed my teacher toward the main group of officials and listened to the Chairman begin his speech.

-Ah! Here comes our newest graduate now,-

my insecurity exploded, muffling my ears

- to join his team on this urgent mission to the caves of the under dark.- 

he explained - Our subsurface 'friends' have been careless and have allowed one of their convicts to escape and bring worry to our women. -

This guy was a maniac, no doubt, but he was winning the crowd over. He kicked at a lump of charred and crusted material at his feet that until then, I had discounted as being completely earthen"

- the last known entry in the collegiate journal of Lars St. Morning Glory.

Description

A handsome young man, 18 years old, with dark brown, ear length hair. Often his unkempt mop of hair spills over his brooding dark brown eyes and sharp features giving an air of unruly confidence. His black cotton robes were nicely made as were his leather boots and hemp backpack. A generally pleasant man with a friendly demeanor and thoughtfulness. Of note was his odd hat, a flat topped wide brimmed fedora of dark grey. Unusual for these parts.

Personality

Lars is a suspicious man, always suspecting some treachery. This grim sensibility he inherited from his father. Though Lars is a pleasant man he remains aloof and mysterious, rarely conversing with lower born people. His actions usually serve his interests in some fashion. His obsessions on magic and the multi-verse have shaped his attitude with a hint of greed. His magic lust is unparalleled.

Items/Possessions

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Spells/Abilities

Languages

Kanosian

Encish