A grizzled middle-aged Taldan man with a perpetual five o’clock shadow and a glazed look in his dark eyes. His short brown hair always has a disheveled appearance, and the clothes he wears are all tattered and dirty. His usual fragrance is that of whiskey and vomit.


Nils is so drunk most of the time that he forgets what day it is, where he is, and sometimes even who he is. Perhaps that’s why he drinks so much. He wanders the streets of Gralton and its surrounding country roads in a fog, yet he still manages to remember every nook and cranny in the city and countryside, the ins and outs of the streets and who’s who. How he manages to accomplish this and string together complete sentences to convey this knowledge is something beyond the scope of reasoning.


Blood in the River Zeram