The Generation of Existence

"Now, students," the professor began, standing at the aged wooden podium at the front of the lecture hall as he'd done so many times before. "Everything must have a beginning, and that is precisely where the school of Conjuration likes to be. We can start by forming an idea, and giving shape to that thought."

He made a sort of flourishing gesture with one hand as he spoke, and the air around his hand shimmered and twisted into the shape of a person, featureless, devoid of characteristics. "We begin a story the same way we begin a spell: with a little creativity." Another gesture, a flick of a wrist, and the figure in his hand suddenly took on colours. Hair, clothing, shoes all flickered through a myriad of shades and hues before settling, finally, on a collection of qualities that would suggest a person, one with history. One with a story attached.

"This is... let's call them Stray. Who are they? What do they do? Where are they from? What do they want? These are all important questions. Let's decide the answers now, shall we? Stray is a... Tabaxi. The name certainly fits, no? Though perhaps that's just a nickname or street name they were given or assigned. I think, perhaps, that especially for a cat-person, a name like Stray might not have been one that they took up purposefully.

"Stray the Tabaxi is the recipient of mysterious magical powers from a patron of some sort. Colloquially at the academy we call them 'warlocks,' though I personally find the term reductive and inaccurate. 'Warlock,' of course, means oath-breaker, and that's precisely what these patronage-based magicians are not. Nevertheless, here we have Stray, the Tabaxi warlock, on whom we can begin our work." The features of the figure that now floated above the podium, rotating slowly, rearranged themselves to make a distinctly feline face, long whiskers twitching at the corners of the cat-person's nose. Their garments formed into a sort of scrappy leather jerkin over a series of loose, airy linen clothes coloured dark with inks and perfumes. They had a brace of short knives that hung across their hip, and gripped a long, smooth wooden staff in their right hand. 

"Now, does anyone have any suggestions for our friend Stray?" the professor called out to the assembled students. A moment passed in silence-- perhaps the gathered throng was not yet accustomed to the format of this class. After all, the professor had listed it as "experimental" on the lecture board. "No? Then I'll continue on. We'll need to give Stray motivations, emotions, and all manner of personality-- but not just yet. First, let's drop them into a scenario and see how they feel like they should react, and we can observe and build as we go. Let's see..." he said, and dug around the assorted papers on the podium for a moment before holding up a thick paper wheel of some sort.

"No wizard goes without their tools, and this is another of them that you should have in your repertoire. We can use this to start a scenario wherein Stray finds themselves. We'll just give it a spin... And presto. We have ourselves a scenario and a protagonist to go in it. Here is where the real work begins.