Born among humans, the first lesson Khalar was taught was that of humility. Within the Orenian Empire, certain predilections for arrogance were placed upon him by others, and he was always working to dissuade his peers of that notion. In short order, Khalar fell into a rhythm of non-interference. His quiet, fly-on-the-wall presence was often ignored, for good or ill, and his schooling neither overachieved or underachieved. Without true belief or care, he accepted the doctrines of Canonism in a bid for further acceptance. His one reprieve was the fascination he felt watching the occasional display of magic. It was something that truly excited him, something that felt personal and engrossing. Something that was well and truly a mystery.
As he reached maturity, coming into the world and finding his independance, he felt a hole where he felt personality and character belonged. A childhood that passed by far too fast steeped in the desire to be unseen and unnoticed. With resolve, he decided that anything worth having comes with it's fair share of scrutiny and spotlight, and he was done being afraid of that. With (hopefully) many long years of life left, he decided to give himself a chance and try to be somebody.
Unused to such a direct approach, Khalar is momentarily given pause, before finding some semblance of good manners. "Ah, thank you for your welcome. I'm afraid no such goals bring me to your fair city, but rather a bid for apprenticeship." He pauses to consider his next question. "You look to be a well connected sort. Would you mind pointing me towards anywhere with clean beds and decent food? The trip on the boat was both cramped and...odorous."
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