Pendergast History

Magister Prendergast graduated from the University of Raslowe's School of Neoteric Experimentation with a degree in Ætheric Metaphysicks. This means he specializes in the science of True Magik - he's interested in how magik works, and in exploring the limits of human ability to manipulate it. He wants to study and observe sites of reputed magikal power (ley lines, Consortium Arches, Fae circles, etc.) and develop theories as to how they might operate. He plans to write theses and papers on these things to deliver before the University, but if he were under a TRUTH spell, he would have to admit that the real reason he wants to do these things is because he wants to see the world. If he can enjoy being outdoors, getting a bit of physical activity in, and make some sketches of flora, fauna, and people he meets while pursuing his scholarly goals, then so much the better.
Prendergast's birth name is Winstone Panderwagon the Younger. His father, Winstone the Elder, is a slick con-man-turned-merchant who oversees a small fleet of cart-based peddlers in the city of Raslowe. His grandfather, Old Winstone, started the business out of his own wagon (thus, the family name). The Panderwagon venture is part of the Guild of Peddlers and Street-Hawkers, of which Winstone the Elder became Guildmaster. With his new position, he intended to increase the prestige of his family (which was still looked down upon by other mercantile guilds due to its "low class, low cost" offerings) and so borrowed a great deal of money against his business to enroll his son at the University of Raslowe. Fortunately for him, Winstone the Younger had the talent for magik and a sharp mind, and so was admitted to the school.
Formal magikal instruction changed young Winstone - who chose the name Prendergast as his official magician's name (a common, if not universally-practiced tradition at the University) - and made him realize that there was a great big world outside of the oldclothes and cookpot-selling business. By the time he graduated, he was willing to do whatever was necessary to avoid returning to his father's guild to work as a glorified clerk. Claiming that he was embarking to fulfill University interests while earning money to pay back his tuition loans, he left his family behind and began to wander the open roads of Xaria.
At this point in time, Prendergast has a romantic view of the world and has yet to be seriously hurt by his naivete. As a result, he has a very positive attitude and friendly manner with strangers, even though his social skills are nowhere near as polished as his father's. Indeed, he has always been overshadowed by his loquacious father, and being surrounded exclusively by magikal students over the last few years has resulted in a degree of social retardation.
He is beginning to see that there will be a lot of hard work involved in earning those funds, however. After several unsuccessful attempts to find work as an Æthyric Metaphysicist (most have no idea what he's talking about, and those few that do find him fairly useless, given the fact that he's only just graduated from the University and can teach them nothing more than they already know), he began to bill himself as "Prendergast the Prestidigitator," a magician-entertainer. Unfortunately, he possesses very few abilities that have the capacity to entertain (no one is excited by the sight of a man reading and writing, no matter how foreign the script), so now he generally limits himself to working as a common scribe. It's a meager income, but it's more than he was making before. In the meantime, he keeps his ears open for those who might need the services of a wizard-at-large.
Prendergast's Journal - Beginning May 509
== Prendergast's Chronicle of Thought and Record of Actions Taken ==
=== 12 May 509 ===
Exhiliration and terror. I have become well-acquainted with these two emotions over the past weeks, but at no time so much as when I was 'captive' aboard the Irroquin's Price.
(There was also Nausea, but the less said of that category of experience, the better. This is the first occasion upon which I have felt healthy enough to write since my arrival in Kessid, and even the inscription of that odious word summons forth ominous tremors in my innards.)
The storms which threatened to capsize the Price were terrific. Sailors' tales are known for being exaggerated, but after my experiences during this voyage I find myself more willing to heed them. I feel it is a miracle that I sit here writing this rather than preparing for eternity in cold and darkness as a prisoner of Maréatta. Yet the sailors now laugh and brag about it over tankards of grog. Was this harrowing venture typical of their experiences? I should think myself fortunate to be a wizard rather than a sailor, for to tamper with the threads of the Universe seems to me a far safer venture than to live and work upon the tempestuous waves. Yet I think I envy them. What freedom they must feel! What wonders they must daily witness!
For my recovery's sake, I shall endeavor to exercise brevity. When I arrived at the Pick & Chisel - an inn of satisfactory repute in the Masons' Quarter to which I was directed by an agreeable Dwarf trader in Kura'Stan - I was miserably ill. Sometime in the night there was a terrible ruckus out-of-doors, such that even through my shuttered windows I could not ignore the sound of yelling and breaking glass. Even afterward, the barking of dogs in the street would not cease for hours, it seemed! By morning I learned that there had been a brawl between guild members - something I am not unfamiliar with even in Raslowe. Nonetheless, I resolved to find a less noisome lodging once I was of sufficient health to walk the streets.
Thus far in my travels I have learned that there are very few, if any, who are in need of a Wizard of my pedigree. Æthyric metaphysicks are not in the common arena of practice, much less familiarity, and so when offering my services as a specialist in such topics I have met with confusion at best. Indeed, I have found precious little employment amongst the common folk, and that which I have found has drawn solely upon my literacy. Were it my understanding of scholarly tomes that was requested, even that would be satisfactory to me, but I am paid only for my ability to read and write!
By now I have resolved myself to this fate. I am more in need of coin than I am of dignity, and since pride cannot pay for food and lodging (or Fraternal dues, or tuition debts...), I am in the public eye a scribe. Nonetheless, this is Irroquin, "where all things may be found at a price," as the hawkers claim; and so, conversely, it is my hope that there will be someone who will come to Kessid seeking a scholarly Wizard with a bag of coin in hand. May I be the first to find him!
Addendum
Success! My diligence in monitoring the message boards posted by the Hall of Travelers has finally been rewarded, or so I hope. A fellow named William Baker has specifically requested the services of a Wizard, and the requirements he lists appear to match me to the letter! According to the notice, I am to ask after him at the Cocking Crow Tavern, in the Artisan's Quarter, after supper.
I must ready myself now, as I do not dare risk losing this opportunity to another.