**NPC CSes**

Name: Salim of Raydir
Age: 17
Ethnicity: A medium brownish
Vices: Stealing and Gambling

Personality: Salim is quiet and shy, preferring complete silence. He had begun to equate loud noises with the shouts of accusation of thievery, and sounds tend to throw off his probability calculations. He genuinely tries to be polite and courteous with everyone, so that he could justify looting their pockets as a sort of diplomacy tax.

History: Salim's father was one of the new converts to the Vicarian faith in the western borders of the old empire, before its decline. To show his devotion to the new faith, he sent his youngest child to act as both diplomat and student in the church. At the tender age of 15, he arrived at the city gates, and quickly became enamored with the life of the priests. Specifically, the secret one they don't want people to know about. His natural aptitude for quick mathematics was put to darker uses in the gambling dens under the nose of the Vicarian inquisitors, and his quick fingers always gave him a convenient loan when he ran short. Without the guiding hand of his father (not that he had much time for his sixth child), Salim had begun to turn away from the values taught by his new religion.

Equipment: An abacus, a thick book of theology, and a stack of ill-gotten banknotes.

Appearance: Salim is short and rail thin, with a pair of tiny spectacles always perched on his nose. He has a bit of a moustache stretching across his upper lip. He lets his hair grow out long, which he ties back into a tail.

Name: Aleksander IIX

Age: 35

Ethnicity: Germanic

Vices: Primary: Binging. Secondary: Drinking, Drugs, (Also a bit scrappy)

Personality: Aleksander is someone who had a pretty careless attitude, and has little reguard for his own wellness. Nothing really slows his stride, it's difficult to get under Alexander's skin, overall hes a cool headed individual. After many exposures to hypocrisy from the clerics and lords, it left Aleksander jaded and skeptical.

History: Aleksander is the IIX of his namesake, belonging to a long line of knights, a family tradition that would end with him. Aleksander was page to a Lord Morhaunt at an early age. Morhaunt was a cruel man, although never to Aleksander, but to his prisoners. Morhaunt preferred to fley, impale, and/or crucify his captives as opposed to ransom, and Aleksander was to be present for all such displays of fear. Terror was the lessons Morhaunt intended to teach young Aleksander, intending for him to learn to be as brutal as his lordship, but all it taught the young page was an example of how not to conduct oneself.

It was when he squired for another knight, sir Krimsmire, where he got a taste for glory... and for wine.

Krimsmire was somewhat of an outcast amongst the other knights of Vicaria, preferring to "slum it" with his guards and soldiers, than to go to court or show off at tourneys. Aleksander admired this quality in Sir Krimsmire, a trait he would inherit. This is the seed from which his down to earth nature grew.

After several campaigns and at the age of 23, finally, Aleksander the IIX was knighted. Unfortunately it wasn't long before the illusion of majesty and nobility were shattered forever. Serving as knight guard of the council of VII, the holiest of priests, the high clerics, each to be a paragon of virtue was in reality an ugly mockery, demigods of vice and sin. The debauchery that Aleksander played witness not only disillusioned him of chivalry and the notion of nobility, but actually shattered his faith in god.

When Aleksander doffed his white plate armor and turned over his longsword and kite shield, he answered his squire when asked why, words so from the heart it seems almost as if written by one of the great bards.



Equipment: arming sword, warhammer, buckler, brigandine armor, bag of silver.

Appearance: a tall and heavy man, he has the build of a soldier, if also softened with added age and feasting. He wears brown his hair medium length parted in the middle, though often covered with a red bandana. His ice blue eyes are evidence of northerners blood, and his dark circles and unshaven face reveal a man at his end with the world. His brigandine and trousers are the teal of his old knight host sir Krimsmire

Name: D'ren (of course)
Age: 30
Ethnicity: Irish
Vices (Pick one Primary Vice, and as many Secondary Vices as you think you can handle.): Scrapping (of course, but would probably boast about his conquests); all of them. Just kidding. Vandalism and Trespassing.
Personality: Cocky fighter (not cock-fighter...); D'ren is a man of many vices, including sexual deviancy, theft, and arrogance; however, he is most known for his ability to start and finish fights. Probably the closest thing this world has to an Irish punk rock guitarist.
History: Got into a lot of fights in school, enrolled in a fighting club, won 8 out of 9 fights. After he lost his first and last fight he went on a pub crawl and met a couple other assholes XD
Equipment: Knuckle-dusters, a dagger
Appearance: <---avatar