VINCENT ST. JAMES

A G E || Unknown
C L A S S || Warlock
R A C E || Human
P A T R O N || The Great Old One
A L I G N M E N T || Lawful Evil

 charmer || eternal || devoted || pious || manipulative || quick-witted || sociopathic || affable || influential

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Who is Vincent St. James? To the community, he was a small business owner. Someone they’d see when they needed to buy an extension cord or duct tape, or even if they just ran in to buy a coffee from the machine within his doorway. Summer day’s he’d prop the door open with a stool, alternating between it, the coffee machine and, looking out from the corner with a cigarette hanging from his lips – watching the streets. He was the man that swept the sidewalk in front of his shop and paused as you walk past, giving you a smile and a wave.

To some, he was a preacher. Not the kind you find in a church behind an altar, but someone who spoke his own truth – the kind you could believe in. He had someone whispering in his ear, sharing their knowledge. Somehow he seemed to know what you think before you thought it, could see things happen before they happened. He was a visionary; a prophet. He spoke in fables, speaking the gospel of the Old Great One. He was the man people could turn to in a time of crisis, someone who would want to help them.

But he wasn’t all shoptalk. To many he was a friend, a confidante. He could have a drink with you, so long as cigars were involved. He knew what your troubles, said exactly what you needed to hear. His presence was magnetic, people flocked to him like sheep. There was a way about him that he took up all the space of every room he was in, even if he were just sitting in the corner alone. Despite being aware of his affect on others, he always came across as humble. He wanted what was best for all after all, right?

Except he knew exactly what he was doing. Ever calculating, every smile, hug, stare, word – perfectly planned. There was nothing he did without absolute certainty, bringing an intensity that burned behind his dark eyes. Few ever saw beyond the surface, and for great reason. If they could see his power, see where it came from, they would sing a different tune. There was only one objective, to obtain power, and to appease its source. The happier his patron, the stronger his power. Everything about him – the smile, the charm, all tools to help him achieve his patron’s vision.