Bio

Kaspar was orphaned as a child: in a world where orphans were nothing less than mobile refuse. At the tender age of eleven years old a kindly man took the child into his home. The home was awash with the strange and spectacular. Theraspian was a man devoted to the study of the arcane and relished power and decadence.

Theraspian showed Kaspar the intricacies of the mystical, the luxury of a good house and home, and the beauty of seclusion. For Kaspar was secluded and forbidden to exit the estate except with escort. The two eventually started working together delving into the grey of the necrotic: delving the mysteries of what encompassed life and where the border of death hovered.
Kaspar never felt confined. He felt special and loved and grew accustomed to the fine foods and wine that Theraspian provided. Kaspar became a part of Theraspian’s home and at the age of sixteen became his lover.

It seemed natural. Kaspar never questioned the situation and relished the extra attention. The two became inseparable both in life and study and eventually never needed to finish each others sentences. The power they discovered, the death they uncovered, the life they lived served nothing but to strengthen their bond: until the day the laboratory crippled Kaspar’s life.
A horrible fight erupted over the caution and danger of an experiment Theraspian was involved with. Kaspar insisted he could help and lighten the load; but, Theraspian forbade him from the laboratory eventually whisking him away with his powers into the center of the town square-in the middle of the night-with nothing but the clothes on his back.

The force of the explosion wiped around him only seconds after a violet flash of streaking light lit the night sky above the necromancer’s home. Kaspar ran straight back to his lover’s arms, his childhood home, his only sanctuary.

There was nothing but a charred shell of a home. The black scalloped walls were smoking, and hot to the touch, but not a single flame broke the darkness of the night. Kaspar wailed long into the night and the next morning realizing nothing was left of his master or home. Nothing but a few trinkets and secular treasures survived to collect or symbolize the time he spent with Theraspian or the knowledge he gained.

Kaspar gather the few meager possessions turned his back on the ruin and walked into the wilderness without looking back.

A little under a week later as Kaspar was just succumbing to the indignity of malnourishment and dehydration, a hovering skull appeared to him in a dream. Kaspar knew the skull to be his master without having to ask. He bowed his head and wept until his throat felt like a water soaked piece of gristle.

The skull, Theraspian, spoke of life, spoke of glory, spoke of knowledge that could transcend the natural world. He told Kaspar of a life beyond and a life in between. He told him that a journey was just beginning that they must travel the world together to gather the clues and secrets of a time long past were the world was conquered by the mysteries of the arcane so that they too could wield that division of grey, that scepter of being, that crown of death, that mantle of the necrotic.

When Kaspar woke from his fevered dream Theraspian still hovered by his head gazing at him with his loving sunken skull eyes.