Kiraliel the Golden was once little Reggie Cartwright, the second-youngest of six siblings and disinclined to pursue the family trade- practical, but boring. He ran away with the Circus (the Witchlight Carnival) one summer instead, fetching and carrying for them until he could persuade one mysterious performer to teach him magic. Having to make a pact with his odd teacher was probably a bad sign, but not to a young man determined to advance his prospects with all the short-sighted assurance of youth. He left the Carnival upon coming of age and began traveling from town to town to try and build his name and fortunes- a process that went much better once he grew his hair out and pretended to be Kiraliel the half-elf instead of plain old Reginald the Human.

It was under that guise that he fell in with a party of adventurers and got good enough at his craft to be more of a help than a hindrance to a group of would-be heroes. The day one of his new comrades taught him how to master a blade was pretty much the day he fell in love with all of them, whether friend-love, brother-love or other loves found in bardic tales, and never looked back. The next decade or two was spent racing from one job, treasure, or just adventure for the hell of it- broken sometime in the middle by his sojourn in the Feywild that remains oddly clear in his memory, and left its lingering mark on his magic.

Despite his love of his group and the magic that adventuring had allowed him to discover, Kiral had never quite lost the insecurity of his early status and the yearning for finer things. He sent money home, of course, but seemed almost embarrassed to admit he’d come from less than exotic beginnings. The groups had been pondering retirement for a few jobs, but never with active intent- until Kiral suddenly jumped at an offer from a local Lord to be his court magician, leaving with few words or excuses to the rest of the group. Someone had to jump ship first, he reasoned, and there was no reason it shouldn’t be him.

 And wonder of wonders, it wasn’t actually too good to be true. Kiral certainly lucked into that cushy retirement he’d wanted- the best of fabrics to dress in, a bevy of courtiers to flirt, flatter and bed, wines and foods to drive his taste buds into ecstasies, and an eager audience to sing his praises every time he waggled his fingers and said the right words.

His official job was to entertain the court with his petty magics, and his unofficial one to help deal with the Lord's enemies via his nastier ones. After a few years, Kiral found he didn't like some of the things his Lord was asking him to do.

He up and left one day- back to the hometown no one would have ever expected him to willingly return to. He bought a fine home in the best part of town, with a small staff of servants to tend to his needs and otherwise leave him to his whims. He spent his time in a leisurely manner; picking up new hobbies, sponsoring a few of the more interesting young adventuring group he came across (or who were bold enough to seek him out), and making a few charitable contributions. He made a point of being available to those children of the town who did not wish to follow in their parents' footsteps, yet couldn't afford to launch themselves on a different path. Occasionally, either they or one of the adventurers would wander back through to drop off some bit of treasure or trinket unusual or gaudy enough to interest him. It was a good life.

Then the summons came. Kiral looked at fabric too fine to fight in, friends who backed away now that he was again called to an uncertain fate against a fearsome enemy instead of singing old triumphs, and a body gone soft under years of sweet indulgences without the rigors of travel or battle- and wondered to every deity he knew of what god’s joke made he and his old groupmates the only answer with all the pretty young things running around to succeed them.

Sadly, none of them ever gave him an answer. Nevertheless, if he survives this, he thinks he might want to find a new way to spend his retirement- perhaps even as Reginald Cartwright this time, if he could find a way to get to know the fellow again.