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Zeb Blackbird

Started by Miasmador
Post #72403

Likes Given: 82
Likes Received: 169
Faction & Race:
Aldmeri Dominion
Name: Zebemisle (Zeb for short)
Surname: Blackbird
Race: Breton (though he thinks he has a bit of dunmer in him)
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Occupation: Outlaw, adventurer, cheese-sampler
Personality: Despite being banned from going into most of the cities of Tamriel, he is surprisingly friendly and trusting, willing to follow anyone, anywhere, for food (cheese is preferable). He is very loyal to his friends and would never abandon them for anything. He is always energetic and willing to go on adventures, to his friends it sometimes seems like his energy will never run out, though on the rare occasion that he does become tired he has to take a few days to sleep solidly. He despises stealing, and if anyone hurts him, he will let them know. If he gets scared he will make a big show, drawing his sword and jumping around shouting to make whatever is scaring him stay away. He is especially scared of Redguards and Wood elves. He is intelligent, but not that to clever, he is more like the friendly, loyal one in a group then the brains.
Weapons: Though he hates killing, he carries a sword in his right hand and a dagger in his left, both black, slightly burnt.
Appearance: He is tall for a Breton, and taller then most people, though not unusually tall. He has very pale skin, slightly ashen (he thinks he has dunmer in him.), and very fine. His hair is very thick, wiry and long, and black as night. He wears sandy-gold fur clothing and a dogs head hood that, when he puts it over his head, makes him look like he has a dog head (the dog head has holes in it so he can see out of it)(The fur armour and hood came from his companion, Tufs, his dog, who recently died.). His eyes are a dark brown and are huge, almond shaped, giving him a sly, handsome and calm look to him. Despite his love of food he is quite skinny, though also slightly muscular.
Best memory: Meeting Miasmador/eating his first cheese
Worst memory: Watching the arrow puncture Tufs' skin, it seemed to pass in slow motion, but he couldn't do anything about it.
Main challenges: Trying to stay away from random travellers and camps, even if the smell of cooking meat is wafting to him, travellers have hurt him more then once before. Also, trying to overcome his soft-hearted ways and killing to protect himself.
Skills: Making new friends and allies, also, he is one of the fastest eaters in the history of Tamriel. He can also sprint surprisingly fast.
Birthsign: Shadow - though he can't figure out how to use his power.
Religious views: He worships them all, daedric, the eight, all of them.
Political views: Politics means war, and death, and blood, he hates it.
Background: He was born in a tiny village in High Rock, both his parents raised him as a normal child, not seeing any need to train him to fight. From the very start he was energetic, trusting and innocent and often he would play with the other children. He was ten years old, playing with his best friends, a Redguard and a Bosmer when he developed his fear of their races. The playing got a bit rough and he was given several cuts, bruises, a black eye and a bloody lip. From then on he has been scared of Redguards and Bosmer. On his eleventh birthday he was given his dog, Tufs, by his parents and they would often play alone together in the fields around the village. Finally, at the age of fifteen, he parted ways with his parents, tearfully, and made his own way in life. Over the years he managed to get banned from every city he went to, by means he does not wish to remember, and finally he had to stick to the farmers villages and small towns. When he was nineteen he met Miasmador, who he immediately liked, despite them being totally different. From that day on he shared most of her adventures and had many of their own. She was there when Tufs died and made the armour for him, she was also the one who gave him his first cheese. They were fast friends, but lost eachother when Zeb was washed down a large river when he was twenty seven. On that very night she showed him her secret. Despite searching he could not find her upriver and finally gave up, stricken with grief at having lost his two closest friends. From that day on he has always been looking for Miasmador and often returns to sit by the river where she was lost.

Sigil: A panting gold dog on a background of crimson.
Other: He loves any type of food, not just cheese... He is terrified of heights and can't stand on a high table without shaking. When navigating stones and rivers on bare feet he will always drop down to all fours, he also has a strange habit of nodding once at people when he first meets them and also, when in a group, he often circles around the group to make sure everyone is there.

((Based on my very own dog, I was given the idea by a friend.))
This post was last modified: June 16th 2013, 09:32 AM by Miasmador

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