Miguel Fadrique de Alarcon

Miguel Fadrique de Alarcon leaned casually against the tavern wall, his hat tilted low over his eyes. His cloak was slung over his shoulder, and he wore a worn leather doublet and breeches, and a belt with several daggers strapped to it. He surveyed the bustling street he knew that trouble had a way of finding him, and he was always ready for a good fight or a quick escape.

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