Caligin
| Age Lates thirties |
| Gender Male |
| Origin Arshakan hume |
| Occupation Traveler |
Caligin led a quiet life in the heartland of the Arshakan Empire. From humble origins, he worked to earn a scholarship at the Brahman Magisterium where he burned the candle of his youth. A decade of studies bought him the title of 'magister' and a position under an adjunct professor at the magisterium. Tasked with copywriting documents and compiling keywords for the professor, Caligin's twenties were spent within the comfortable forums of the magisterium. He rarely left those halls except when work took him to the outlying forts for field works. Even then those excursions were under the watchful eye of legionnaire escorts.
On the tail of glowing recommendations of his work ethic, he was eventually granted a post as an imperial weaver serving a newly appointed Praetorship in the western reaches of the Imerisan front. At the time he accepted this offer his duties promised a sight more excitement than he experienced prior. The territory stood in the shadows of the Kalma range, acting as little more than a waystation for legion marches between the capital and the magisterium. Still, it lined his pocket with coin and the title if nothing else earned some small bragging rights among his peers.
For nearly a decade he served in this role, quiet and unassuming. Then, one mid-Noniruth morning, he left.
Having resigned his post as an imperial weaver to wander, he picked up a journal and decided to catalogue his travels. Before him stood the great expanse of Ilica—Crorefell, that city of fools, beckoned him. Perhaps a visit to Selva to see the ranches, to sample the honey and wine, or even to Seax if his feet could be trusted to carry him so far north. Dare he wonder, let alone desire, a conclusion to his journey in the northerly reaches? One day, then, he might set foot in Altalusia, if only to compare the imperial propagandizing to the real thing. The cheese, he had heard, is excellent.
On the tail of glowing recommendations of his work ethic, he was eventually granted a post as an imperial weaver serving a newly appointed Praetorship in the western reaches of the Imerisan front. At the time he accepted this offer his duties promised a sight more excitement than he experienced prior. The territory stood in the shadows of the Kalma range, acting as little more than a waystation for legion marches between the capital and the magisterium. Still, it lined his pocket with coin and the title if nothing else earned some small bragging rights among his peers.
For nearly a decade he served in this role, quiet and unassuming. Then, one mid-Noniruth morning, he left.
Having resigned his post as an imperial weaver to wander, he picked up a journal and decided to catalogue his travels. Before him stood the great expanse of Ilica—Crorefell, that city of fools, beckoned him. Perhaps a visit to Selva to see the ranches, to sample the honey and wine, or even to Seax if his feet could be trusted to carry him so far north. Dare he wonder, let alone desire, a conclusion to his journey in the northerly reaches? One day, then, he might set foot in Altalusia, if only to compare the imperial propagandizing to the real thing. The cheese, he had heard, is excellent.
Appearance
| Height 5'8 |
| Build Lean |
| Hair Dark, graying |
| Eyes Dark |
Average of height and aged of feature, Caligin is most defined by the weathering of his hair and boldness of his chin. Slender shoulders hunched from perpetual bookwork speak of a soft life, exemplified by the slight paunch of his belly. In the later years of his employ he began sporting a beard, one he favored greatly for its salt and pepper shading. He keeps it trimmed when possible, occasionally through magic, suggesting a measure of vanity otherwise unexpected from an unassuming man such as him.
Personality
Diligent, quiet, polite. Bored.
Skills
As a talented, well-educated weaver who matriculated from the prestigious Brahman Magisterium, Caligin boasts knowledge of many spells if not their practical applications. Combat was never his forte, and indeed through his youth the former magister and imperial weaver spent most of his time in study on philosophy and politics. Suffice to say that he is versed in most formal methods of imperial weaving but lacks the experience on when to call upon his vast arsenal.
Of these, a particular point of pride for him is a spell which launders clothes to a reasonable extent, a must for any road-weary traveler. This, he has found, outclasses most other magicks. Convenience engenders the best kind of laziness, after all.
Of these, a particular point of pride for him is a spell which launders clothes to a reasonable extent, a must for any road-weary traveler. This, he has found, outclasses most other magicks. Convenience engenders the best kind of laziness, after all.