Obegard's Mission

Somewhere between the too-fresh ghosts of Corinth and the ancient ghosts of the Ghostwood, Obegard rides quietly, following the rest of the delegation from the Arak Spire. Despite the unseasonably gentle weather, it's a somber procession. Even the most phlegmatic of his fellow wizards were shaken by the sight of the ruined city beyond the barrier. Sometimes a wizard understands too much too easily: counting the heaped bodies without conscious effort, tallying the signs of unnatural death, and worst of all knowing how far that total falls short. Those who died in Corinth, and stayed dead in Corinth, were the lucky ones.

Obeg's practiced calm (his classmates style him "the Mild", respectfully for the most part) serves him well now. It doesn't hurt that none of his family were in Corinth, at least as far as he knows. His older sister Galea, trained as a healer, has been travelling with a group of clerics of Neus. Obeg hadn't heard from her since the last time she was in Corinth, about six months ago. His mother Tollys is back in Estrough-by-the-river, book-keeping and scribing for the great trading houses. He lost friends in Corinth, but the Arak Spire -- his home, his affiliation -- yet stands, with most of his graduating cohort riding ahead of him in the delegation. Beyond the Spire, the Free Kingdoms have somehow found a reprieve, a chance for peace. With doom apparently averted, the return to the familiar politics of uncertainty and threat seems almost hopeful.

Ostensibly a junior member of the delegation, without responsibility or power to treat at the coming Agreement, Obeg conceals a separate and potentially more important mission. Tucked away in an inner pocket, he bears a list from his Masters: names and watchwords, people and places to observe and record and report back. A minor agent of the Spire, little enough glory in it, but a welcomed opportunity to serve. The respect and trust of his Masters of the Spire might just accelerate his own deeply-desired acclamation to Mastery.

Beneath these surface thoughts and recollections, Obeg's subconscious seeks ever to find the pattern, to make connections, to assemble fragments of time and place into law and understanding. Trained in Divination and the other highest Arts for the majority of his conscious life, his attention on the here and now is colored by a constant awareness of the elsewhere and elsewhen. This is his center: the sure knowledge that order and truth are never irrevocably lost. Chaos and destruction tear the world apart, but the whole can be recovered and known, at least to the enlightened mind. The peace of other times and other places exists even on the battlefield; the company of friends and family exist even when alone. Like old Furst used to say, "Diviners seek the Whole."*

As the horses plod onward, Obeg meditates to gather his calm and his will, reluctantly suspecting that the Ghostwood gathering may rather test his discretion... and his luck.

Description: Obegard's appearance is unremarkable; he wouldn't stand out much in a crowd of city-dwellers. His hair is light brown and swept back, neatly trimmed just short of his shoulders. Obeg's skin is lightly tanned but only faintly weather-worn. At 5'7" and 150 lbs., a light horse carries him and his modest belongings comfortably. Eschewing robes, staff, or familiar, on this trip he looks like any other traveler of average means. A small crossbow hangs from his saddle, and a utilitarian dagger from his belt. Like his colleagues of the delegation, he wears a pendant identifying him as a representative of the Spire (the Master of Glyphs and Symbols spent a hurried night crafting variants of the usual tokens to give the delegation appropriate status, exceeding lowly Studenthood but without the impious implication of Mastery).

Game Information: Obeg is a male human Wizard (Diviner) 4. His banned school is Necromancy. Alignment: Lawful Neutral. Feats: Scribe Scroll, Able Learner (RD 150), Inspired Divination (CM 44), Extend Spell. Alternative Class Feature: Glimpse Peril (PHBII p70), in exchange for losing Summon Familiar.

Footnote: *Obeg remembers, too, the muffled snickers at Furst's edict -- Mage humor spans the gamut from the most arcane polyglot poems, with readings in Common and Abyssal and Celestial, down to the sophomoric "Detect Naughty Bits".