]Name: Zazin, Crazy Wasp, Rock-Obsessed Nutcase
Age: Maturity
Race: Wasp
Gender: Male
Class/Job: "Wild Card." If that doesn't work out, then he's a fairly decent, unpredictable fighter.
Belongings
- A stone throwing spear, a carved wooden mask that covers his face, a handful of Chips (7), A small backpack to hold other possessions, A primitive club covered in what appears to be severed wasp stingers.)
Skills and Abilities
- Zazin, when he can focus, is skilled in creating primitive tools and weapons. Though his creations won't pierce metal armor, they'd no doubt be lifesavers should the party be stranded far from any city. He also fights in an unpredictable, brutal manner. Having lived in wilderness for quite some time, he's good at foraging or hunting for his food.
"When you are able to do anything you wish, no matter what that thing is, then you have reached perfection." Personality
Zazin tends to be a loner, living by his lonesome near a large pond (to a human, it's just a puddle of standing water.) He far prefers a simple life of nightly campfires, knapping a new stone tool by the water's edge, appreciating a lifestyle that most others he meets seem to have forgotten. Most would consider him at least somewhat mad, but in reality he simply dislikes the civilized lifestyle many have become accustomed to. He's difficult to make friends with, but is a standing ally to those he trusts.
Living a life where any mistake could mean death, he's not exactly picky with what he eats, or how he gets it. While he normally simply preys on unintelligent insect life, like aphids and the like, he isn't above feeding one whatever someone else left behind... or should the occasion rise, simply someone else.
History
Zazin doesn't talk about his past too much; but he lived his early childhood in a small shack in the middle of nowhere; a patch of bare dirt surrounded by grass. His parents tended to live a more rural life; hunting for their food as opposed to ranching or farming, like most of the nearby settlements had. Though he remembers his parents talking of valuing their independence, he always remembered how one or the other was almost always away, trading at one of the nearby settlements for things he thought were of little value.
As his parents grew old and he was more than just a pupa, Zazin was quick to abandon the lonely shack he had called his home for so long. Heading far, far into the wilderness, as far from any city or village as he could, Zazin made his home fairly far from any borders that he knew of, carving out a primitive life where he could depend on nobody but himself.
Now, however, the hunting grounds that were once plentiful are turning up thin, and the developments in a nearby town have begun to fill his lake with grey, sickening water. Forced from his home by the very civilization he tried to escape, he now has no choice but to try and integrate into the new world, carving out an existence until he can at least find the supplies to scout for a new home.
