Biografi-Nakir III von Gialhom-
Nakir's family has been paladins for four generations. His great grandfather Arothak Gialhom earned the family it's nobility in what that time was the fight for gathering Mandos. Supporting the would-be-king Mandos, in some of the battles against his enemies, evil ones of course, he won great favor. This earned the family estates and title as Marquis. This is far-gone though. As paladins are not known for being businessmen, and granting away much of their wealth, almost all estates but one small keep and a minor noble house in Mand was the only remaining when Nakir took his oaths as paladin.
The thoughts about inheriting property or titles are usually far from Nakir's mind. Bent upon serving the Goddess he began a crusade against evil beings as soon as attaining grade as full paladin. Through many major adventures he fought himself so far north as to reach the entrance of Monster's nest Mountain where he found an entrance to the underdark.
Knowing that the underdark was dominated by mainly evil beings he decided to venture downwards. On his way meeting Silvardo who by luck saved him from a pair (at first five) of bugbears doing their worst to cut him into little pieces. This deed by Silvardo caused the ever noble but not always smart Nakir to declare he owed the irresponsible halfling his life. This in turn led to him having to follow the little fellow lower into the underdark finding "interesting places" and "adventure".
Sadly the ever-talking halfling brought their presence to the attention of a patrol of drows. After a short fight they both ended up in the grasp of the high priestess of Lolth who just were to begin sacrificing them to the spiderqueen when a party of adventurers broke in and rescued him and Silvardo.
Nakir is fanatically obsesses by doing the right. Law is his daily bread and water. In spite of this he tries to do the right thing also which brings him into dilemmas now and then. He is also, as one clearly can see by his story, not very bright and more than a dash unlucky. He has sworn fealty to Morfeus trusting her to guide his way towards righteousness. He is also somewhat awestruck by the others of the six paladins especially Morfeus and The Wanderer, often forgetting he is one of them. In combat he rides an exceptionally heavy war-horse so that if he is in open battle, is not forced to travel far equipped with full plate barding.
Nakir has to living relatives but his father Nakir II and his little brother Strider.
The knife was nearing his throat when he heard the door into the great hall crash open. The priestess, very beautiful despite ashen skin, turned around angrily. Turning his head Nakir could glimpse a group of people having rushed into the room. What appeared to be a collection of prisoners stood on the floor.
One single drow female was guarding them. Seeking for the guardswoman' intentions he strangely felt nothing evil. Unusual for drow, especially when handling prisoners. He didn't have the chance to do another try with some of the prisoners before they suddenly dropped their shackles and drew weapons concealed under their clothes. Not a very noble tactic but right now it didn't really feel like it mattered. Surprisingly the guarding drow also drew her weapons and charged for one of the nearest priests.
In a few moments the entire room was in tumult. One of the former prisoners had began casting a spell. The others receiving weapons from a dwarf that appeared out of the thin air. An invisible dwarf! The world certainly was about to topple. The priests didn't wait idle though, some mumbling prayers while others approached, adamantium maces ready. At the end of the wizards formula a tearing sound came from the middle of the floor. Something that reminded him of a pale old elf, visage twisted with an evil grin stood between the party of fighters and their priestly opponents. Fear stabbed him into the heart, had it not been for the ropes he was sure he would have fled as far as possible. A good many of the drow priests surely did, only to be hit by an fireball thrown by a slim man carrying a lute over his studded leather. He noticed one of the "prisoners", a sturdy dwarf also fled from the creature the wizard had summoned. The others stood their ground though. The drow were clearly disadvantaged. Some of them stood their ground being hit by multiple weapons from the party of intruders. The drow female that "guarded" them was stepping over her first body, her strange sword dripping with blood while she headed to block the entrance door. To late to hinder a pair of guards to come in before the doors was solidly blocked by a bar created for the usage. Not expecting to be attacked from the inside the dark elves had reinforced the door on the inside to withstand attack from the outside that came in handy now. Trapping them inside their own fortress. Nakir vaguely wondered how they where to get out of the room.