“My real name is Closimir
|However I usually use an alias for my own protection |
. When I was young, my dad died as a drunk choking on his own vomit and me mum was a worthless whore. Frankly, I don’t remember either one of them taking care of me other than giving me a beating when they occasionally saw me, so home was wherever I could sleep without being beaten up, kicked out or chased off. As a result, I ain't got no family and even fewer friends. I survived by running with street gangs picking the pockets of fools and robbing the weak. Those were about the only skills I had other than the ability to make people laugh while playing the role of a buffoon. That about sums up my childhood.”
"Didn't nothing change when I grew older. I left town and soon fell in with Art Dodger’s mob for several years. That’s when I refined my skills, sneaking, hiding, and using magic, but all that ended when the Dodger got caught by the King’s men, was tried and summarily executed. I suppose Old Dodger was the closest thing to a friend that I’ve ever had; After all he taught me the only legitimate skills I got, how to read and write and how to sing and play instruments of the string to get what I want. But once he was dead, the gang fell apart and we each went our separate ways. I ain’t seen none of them since, which is probably just as well. Most of’em are probably in prison or hung by now anyway.”
"Over the ensuing years, I traveled from place to place under various guises. While drifting around, fought and dispatched a wide variety of monstrosities, many of the human to tell ya the truth, from highwaymen to bandit kings, black knights, murderers and rapists, and even a few corrupt magistrates and priests whom I've had to set right without killing'em o'course. I've faced my share of maraudering animals, such as packs of wolves, man-eating giant cats, deadly poisonous snakes, and even a few rabid bears. For a while, I even fought as a mercenary in the border skirmishes against raiders from foriegn lands who were bent on plundering the local villages, but I grew weary of death and war and eventually drifted on. I've never been one to pick sides, save my own that is. Proof in point, I've even healed my fair share of royalists and also a few beggar knights over the years, for the appropriate fee of course."
"While moving around, I made a living the best I could. Sometimes I would be retained to entertain nobles and their families with my music and comedic routines. Other places I made a living by shucking the locals out of their coin by selling them fake magic talismans or bone fragments of the saints, mostly consisting of just old chicken bones if the truth be told, which it never was. When worse came to worst, I could always survive by just picking pockets by day and gambling by night. Of course, it never hurt having the ability to influence the dice or cards with a bit of the ole slight of hand combined with illegal luck magic.”
“That’s how I picked up the various magical trinkets I own, some of them stolen, some won in fixed games of chance and others bought with blood money. What money I didn’t waste on rot-gut or loose women, I invested in do-dads to help me further my profession or to even run away when necessary. Overall, I suppose the common theme of my career is deception. Yeah, I been called a shyster, cheat, huckster, charlatan, con artist and even a flim-flam man. That’s why I never stick around too long in any one place; it just ain’t healthy if’n you know what I mean.”
"Now don't get me wrong, not that everything I've done in my life has been without merit. I've helped those in need here and there over the years, if'n the rewards were right. I participated in the mercenary parties that cleared the sewers of Jarslov of its foul denizens. Boy, you talk about a messy job, that's one I don't plan on repeating any time soon. Then of course, I obtained a small modicum of fame by leading the group that put down Count Radovan; those who paid me claimed he was a vampire who was preying upon the citizens of Karolvac; I guess now we'll never know for sure, but I'll tell ya this, he sure was a hard one ta kill. Most recently, I earned a fair amount of prestige, as well as coin, by defeating the dragon terrorizing the locals of Dugo Selo. Turns out that the dragon was actually some sort of huge lizard, but of course that's just tween you and me; there ain't no need for them that paid my expenses to know anything about that part of the tale. They're happy and I'm happy, and that's all that matters."
“Course I won't bore you with the details of all my past exploits, cause if'n I did then I'd have to
| Because the statute of limitations ain't run on all of'em yet or I'm wanted by certain people and/or authorities. |
ya. You ask what I've been up to lately. Well a few weeks ago, I swindled an old man out of his traveling wagon medicine show, complete with two sway back horses and moonshine still. Ever since, I’ve been traveling the countryside under the alias as Doctor Ninovete Vladislov hucking to the masses a home remedy that will cure any ailment. Of course, the bogus remedy is mostly cheap home brewed liquor mixed with bitter herbs I gather for free, but no one knows that save me.”
“Even though the elixir could'nt even cure one’s thirst, the effects of the hard alcohol combined with my secret casting of a few curative spells here and there makes the gullible public feel enough of a short term benefit that they buy the stuff up like hot cakes. Of course, I always have to move on before they sober up and realize they’ve been pinched. Thus, I'm always on the move and I like it that way. No roots, no responsibilities and staying just one step ahead of the civil war that seems to be engulfing the nation."
"Today, I just arrived in another new town in the Kingdom of Triman where they are supposedly looking for heroes to solve some sort'a bandit problem. The thought just makes me laugh; I sure ain’t no one’s sucker and the thought of being a hero never even crossed my mind. I’m here to sell a few wares, pick up some loose coin, and then be on my way before the dolts realize they’ve been duped.”