Arcadia:Karkaras the Diviner
Dear friends, relatives, acquaintances and sages of the wizards council, it is my sincere hope that you are enjoying the festivities. My dear father has spared no expense in this celebration of my graduation from my training in the diviners art, as well as the arrival of my 110th birthday and, thus, my emergence in the realms of adulthood. As is the custom of our people, I have prepared a speech for this momentous occasion and I do hope you will indulge me as I am not the most proficient at this sort of thing. For this reason I wish to keep this short and simply speak of the person who has seen me through all these long years of study and growth.
Of all the influences of my formative years I can think of no greater molding force than the firm and unrelenting guidance of my father. Seeing from a young age my natural talents in magic, he enrolled me in the arcane academy at the tender age of 40. Himself being a prestigious member of that fine organization, I was never far from his watchful gaze. This did not stop me from managing to sneak away every once in a while to the halfling settlement that is but a stones throw from the fair towers of our fine city, but he was there to drag me back by my substantial ears and scold me.
But, as children do, I was quick to be off once again to the delightful halfling settlement where they were practicing their routines for the traveling circus. I imagine that many of you may not know this, but the halfling settlement is mostly just a location where they winter before going back on the road, all the while practicing their routines in their magnificent colorful tents. Should you have an opportunity, I urge you to go and see the show, for though old Marco may be some time ago passed on, his sons continue the trade with almost as much vigor and flare as the old man had.
Ah yes, Marco. A kinder man there never has been, but, as my father pointed out, kindness has its limit. For when he spoke to me of the daring trapeze artists tricks and how, back in his younger days, he had been a truly impressive acrobat, I was astounded at the tales he spun. I simply had to try it for myself! And Marco, kindly Marco, gave me that chance. Over the next several years I would sneak off to the circus to practice the acrobats art, becoming more and more skilled with time. Being still a young child and having the bravery that comes with youth, I progressed quickly at my new “profession”. Marco was ever there to encourage me and pick me up off the net when I would make a mistake. It was on my 63rd birthday when I was at last skilled enough for the harrowing experience of performing without the net there for safety. It was not a true performance of course, simply put on for the other members of the circus, but for me it was to be my greatest moment! And as I swung free from the trapeze bar, somersaulting towards the approaching handhold, I felt a strange and otherworldly sensation as the force of gravity was ripped from me. For there was my dear father, having scryed upon me with his magic and teleported to the tent to rescue me from this most terrible danger that I had placed myself in. A simple feather fall spell was all it took to remove any chance of achieving my childish goal of reaching that swinging bar, and as I slowly floated to the ground, I could hear the angry shouts of my father as he scolded Marco for allowing a child to engage in such a horribly dangerous activity.
Marco, for his part, was unscathed by all of this and simply stated that there had never been any real danger. For, you see, Marco was a sorcerer of some minor skill and had confided in me beforehand that he had knowledge of the feather fall spell in case anything went wrong. But, as my father later told me, one cannot be too careful when it comes to the lives of elves. For, as life would later reiterate to me on various occasions, the lives of lesser races are short and they can afford to waste them on such frivolous pursuits, for the worth of their lives is little in comparison to the vast wealth that is the life of an elf. This lesson has stuck with me father, and indeed, was driven home by word of Marco's death some few years later.
Ah, but my instruction in this particular lesson was not sufficient at this stage to save me from future heartache. For as a young man of 71 years of age, I found myself quite charmed by a human woman, a servant of another member of our auspicious school of the arcane. Angela was her name, a beautiful name if ever there was one. A married woman, that didn't stop the foolhardiness of youth from driving me to speak to her. I found her an interesting and worldly creature despite her being a third of my age, and I, for my part, was an exotic and welcome change from the, in her words, “aloof and detached” elves of the school. We formed a close relationship over the next several years, I barely changing while she grew older and had children with her husband. He was a decent man, but spent most of his free time away from the children at the tavern as his work was hard and backbreaking and the task of raising the children, in his mind, fell to the woman. I helped her as best I could and our bond only grew over time. It was some 30 years later that Angela's husband died and I saw my opportunity. After giving her a few months to grieve, and waiting for the rest of her children to depart, I spoke to her of running away with me into the world to live the remainder of her life together. She said that I was mad, for she was well into old age and had very little time left on this world. I confessed the depth of my feelings for her and explained to her that if the rest of our time together were to be nothing but me caring for her in her old age that I would find no greater joy than this. At last she consented to the plan, and I left to make arrangements for our departure.
As you can see by my standing here, the plan did not go as I had hoped, for upon my return to her chambers my father was standing there waiting for me. Knowing my feelings for her, he had sent her away with riches enough to provide for her comfortable retirement. Once more he explained to me the value of an elven life and the years that we may live, and how such years cannot be wasted on lesser creatures that would weigh us down from the greater tasks that lay before us. I would not be so easily swayed from my plan however and had resolved to go to her once I had come of age and graduated. This is no longer my plan however. Once more, the lesson of my youth was driven home to me as I have heard of a sickness that has swept through the city that Angela had made her home in. My Angela was one of the first to die but from the accounts that I have heard from her son Marcus, she was still awaiting my arrival once I was free of this place.
And so that brings me to the end of my speech good people. And the lesson of my all to long and bitter life. Indeed, this is but a brief glimpse at the sorrow and death that surrounds our unchanging world on every corner. Though you all may be able to avert your eyes from the gradual decay of the world around you, I cannot. I do not fit in this world that so quickly passes by, even as I cannot remain in this cold unchanging world of elves. For, you see, my father taught me a dear lesson: life is cheap. And dreadfully short. And the value of life is not in how much of it one has, but in how much one does with it. And it is with that comment that I bid you all farewell!
Dear Father,
It has been sixty years since I stole your collection of staffs and ran away. Well, teleported really. To have seen the look on your face when I suddenly disappeared at the end of that speech would have been a sight to behold. I'm quite certain that you have been searching for me for all these years and have found it quite a frustration that I elude your pursuits at every turn. As I am running short of resources to escape your agents, I will enact my final plan to bring myself beyond your reach. Over these many years I have been working all manner of jobs, and acquiring a great deal of knowledge of the world in general and am fully prepared to support myself in any environment I may find myself. For this reason, I have determined that the only place that will put me truly out of your reach is Arcadia.
As travel to this new world is expensive to say the least, I have made a deal that will prove quite beneficial to you as well. I have sold myself as a slave. In exchange for my substantial value as a spellcaster, I have arranged for the return of your full collection of staffs. All of them are depleted, but they are of course in perfect condition. I thank you most sincerely for lending them to me and wish you the very best. It is my intent to steal myself from my new owner at my first opportunity, but only time will tell if this plan will work. Do not seek me. You will not find me. Tell my dear sister I love her.
Most Sincerely,
-Karkaras the Diviner.