Name: Csakan of Korson

Age and Gender: 43, Male

Appearance: The very image of a campaign hardened Kuman horse raider if Csakan is not the genuine article he is at the very least a convincing forgery. Born to a saddle with a back broadened by bowstrings he is tall, solidly built and agile, the sort of man that can cow a riled dog with sheer physical presence alone. A ferociously quiet individual Csakan speaks only as he must, his blue eyes prone to mirroring the militant expression that conceals his face proper, recognized more for this metal mask than what lay beneath. Perpetually congested, prone to nosebleeds.

Like a horse and its saddle he is seldom seen sans armor, the leather, felt and iron that layer his silhouette having faded from former glory during decades of service. An ornamental hilt and several inches of swept iron fill his scabbard before abruptly stopping, the broken blade of little use as anything beyond a memento.





Culture and Religion: Altiac (Western-Khanate Kuman, Kochoba Clan), Tengrism

Backstory:


Csakan omits much of his life before Toletum from discussion, the ex-nomad having settled in the Gothic capital after a lengthy westward pilgrimage. In the three years that followed he has amassed modest wealth in the service of a notorious money lender. Fulk, Csakan's employer, plagues the smallfolk of the capital with his predatory loan practices and murderous goons, buying blind-eyes when he needs to, plucking them out when he can't. That's not prose, a jar of these 'medical oddities' adorns his desk, ever the boon in negotiations.

The name this former Kochoba clansman has made for himself is not a kind one, often whispered to misbehaving children in lieu of a more fitting bogeyman. Hervey Ironface, the Blue dog of Toletum and the Alley-plucker ranking among the more inventive monikers cooked up by his unadoring public. The deeds that garnered them however are nowhere near as whimsical, murder the very least of his crimes. Driven and merciless the more superstitious members of the community attribute his inhuman tolerance for pain to eastern mysticism which has admittedly made debt collection marginally easier. Of particular note he was stabbed in a tavernside altercation last solstice and it stands on rumor he didn't so much as flinch, let alone cry out in pain--since then gossip persists that his armor is empty. Nonesense and exaggeration surely.

Name: Izem ibn Tarif

Age and Gender: 24, male

Appearance: Izem is a tall young Berber man wearing a simple but well-made robe. He has a full beard, bright brown eyes, and an easygoing look. He's a little plump and definitely eats well, but a quick look at his arms shows he's strong, though not Herculean.

Izem has a leather satchel stuffed with books, a light backpack with a bedroll, various traveling supplies on his belt, and a well-made Suevian falcata dangling from his sash.





Culture and Religion: Berber, Maraboutism

Backstory: As the fifteenth son of a virile Mauretanian warlord, Izem had no real hopes of possessing any real authority among his people. His brothers, uncles and cousins were already vying for as much power as they could obtain, whether it be control of the people or control of the warriors, so Izem felt it wisest to separate himself from those squabbles. He wanted to live a long life.

Since Izem was a healthy youth, he was schooled at an early age in swordplay and warfare. He took faster to books than to battle, however, and expressed an interest in becoming a Marabout. He was educated by those storytellers of his people. The stories he learned were a mixture of the old ways and of Islam's teachings, and he became very familiar with both of those worlds, hearing of both distant lands and close lands. He drank from this font of knowledge as much as he could.

When that was done, the young prince approached his father again, expressing a desire to go to one of these places told of in the stories: Hispania. Izem had heard stories of the splendor of their cities, much larger and grander than Marrakech or Sijilmasa, and he knew it was not far from his home. Eventually, after much arguing, his father relented, but warned him not to let himself be changed by the place. Izem was fourteen.

Izem spent the next several years in and around Qurtubah, studying science, history, and really any subject he could. He knew better than to speak of magic, and he studied the tenets of Ilm Islam though he did not embrace it (even if he pretended to do so).

Izem enjoyed a strange feeling in Hispania: it hardly mattered that he was a chief's son whereas it was a matter of much discussion and interest in Mauretania. He felt liberated, like shackles around his feet had been cut away. It was a good feeling.

While Izem returned to Mauretania every year for Ramadan, he came back to stay at twenty-two years of age, having learned Latin, Arabic, complex mathematics and much more while abroad. At home, though, he felt stifled. Even though he was traveling the Dunes once again, he felt like he wasn't going anywhere, like he was only seeing things he had already seen. So, over the next couple years he prepared himself for a journey abroad, careful to keep it a secret from his father, who believed Izem would stay in Mauretania to an adviser to one of his brothers.

About a year after he began his preparations, Izem was back in Hispania. He equipped himself with a sword he bought from a Suevian merchant and set off someplace new and different: Toletum.

Izem is a scholar, priest and prince searching for a means of making a living while on the road. After all, a Marabout should wander rather than remain in one place. He is a capable enough swordsman, highly educated in science and history, and he speaks three languages (the Berber tongues, Latin and Arabic). With such skills at his disposal, he believes he can find easy employment as a mercenary or find a band of adventurers looking for another sword arm. He tries not to reveal his bloodline to strangers, both because he does not want perceptions of him to be skewed and because he feels it could prove disadvantageous to him.