Name: Zeebarl Jorlinstone
Nickname: Weasel Eyes Zeebarl
Theme Music: Wario Land 4 - Crescent Moon Village
Age: 61 (appears to be late thirties)
Gender: Male
Orientation: Asexual
Race: Half-human Half-Dwarf
Class: Merchant
Sub-Class: Orator and Mercenary
Alignment: Tends to be Neutral but can act Neutral Evil.
Height: 5' 2'' ft
Weight: 62 kg
Appearance: Quite a broadly built man, Zeebarl has wide shoulders, a barrel chest, and a surprisingly well toned for his occupation. He also has thick arms, and unwieldy hands to match, with stout legs like tree trunks, with surprisingly small feet.
The half dwarfs face is also an interesting spectacle, oddly seeming to have facial hair whatsoever despite his heritage, or even eyebrows,though with plenty of dark blonde hair atop his head, which he keeps combed back, though has a tendency to flow outwardly. His hairless chin is also quite a large and protruding one, rivaled only by Zeebarls large cheekbones, leaving him with an odd lumpy look to his lower face area. His squinted dark brown eyes that give him his namesake however are much smaller, with an unsettling air of malice in them, despite Zeebarl's usual intentions of merely making a deal. He also is adorned with a long forehead, and a longer thinner nose, as well as a pair of circular ears.
He also dressed in an elaborate white military jacket he once took as payment from a rich noble for a handful of 'priceless' jewel, with odd feathering on the shoulder covers and golden buttons, which is also worn along with a pair of dark green thick cotton trousers held up with suspenders, a purple scarf, a brown shirt which he leaves the first few top buttons left free, and a pair of black steel toe cap boots.
Oddities: Oddly, Zeebarl seems to grow his hair extremely quickly, as well as the hair on his back, arms, legs, chest and pits, though oddly not his eyebrows, and despite his lineage, not a single facial hair to be found.
No matter how hard he tries, he cant remember who his family was, where he came from, or how he managed to come upon the odd mini catapult.
Due to his willingness to work for the right price, Zeerbarl is happy to take up pretty much any job that he he personally think matches the pay well enough, whether it is morally good or not, and therefore his only true allegiance is his pay check and himself.
Abilities: Thanks to his Dwarven heritage, Zeebarl is rather sturdy and strong when it comes to taking ordinary punches or dragging luggage around, helping him greatly with dragging around his cart, and giving him an extra edge in battle, even though weaponry and moderately sized iron objects still would give him pause and effort when working against them, though with his own weaponry, he is surprisingly well versed for a merchant.
He is also quite the orator, often choosing to talk his way out than fight it, having managed to converse his way to safety from a number of sticky situations, as well as convincing customers and potential employers into decisions they would normally disagree on.
Personal Items and Weapons: Weapon wise, Zeebarl wields a simple blackjack club, along with a odd Dwarven contraption that seems to be a miniature catapult, used to fling projectiles at the opponent. As a result he also carries rocks and junk to use as ammunition. It is roughly the same size as a crossbow and tends to need resetting after firing like one too.
He also somehow manages to drag around his own wares, provision and currency in a large cart, often to sell and buy products from and to those he meets, as he is after-all a merchant.
Personality: Zeebarl is a man who seemed to be born a merchant, loving any opportunity to make a tidy and often fair profit, and seeming to enjoy peddling his wares immensely, tending to bring a smile to his face when commerce and bartering comes into play, whether he is selling or buying wares. He indeed loves to play the shopkeeper, which makes it all the more fitting due to his immense love of money as well, to an all most greed hungry extent, though would rarely wish to cheat someone out on a fair deal, though has been know to conduct less than legal trades, such as with black magic items or cursed apparel. He also tends to hoard his money, using it mostly only to pay for goods sold to him and for ordinary provisions for him to live off.
Due to this business mentality of his, Zeebarl is immensely against theft, considering it to be the worst of sins, and would out right try to murder anyone he caught taking from his stock, or worse, his fortune, chasing them relentlessly until the stolen possession in question was returned. In truth he is immensely protective and obsessive of his possessions and wares, and has a deep suspicion of anyone not wishing to conduct business approaching him to an almost paranoid extent, acting defensively around them.
With customers however, Zeebarl is all smiles and kind words, trying his utmost to make a sale or at least provide good service, often following the old rule, the customer is king, unless of-course they attempt to cheat him out of his money or rip him off on some wares, which he will change to a more condescending tone.
In truth though, Zeebarl feels oddly detached from people even in a crowd, with an odd sense in his gut that they all seem, well, empty. His feelings are for others are usually just seeing them as either just customers or unavailable products, treating them more like a means to and end or as cheap furniture, and as a personal rule, tends to avoid speaking first to others unless necessary and seems to not fully understand the meaning of morals because of this. He also tends to shrug off most attempts of any friendship, spite, seduction, hatred and romance, as one would for the fondness for a type of beverage or annoyance of an old watch, though on the bright side, he is completely unable to fathom the concept of slavery, and thinks it is immensely idiotic.
Trading wares aren't the only way he spends his time however, as Zeevarl will on occasion hire himself out as a mercenary or negotiator, or really taking up any temporary jobs purely for the cash. He personally believes money truly does make the world go around, and as such, would happily do anything for the money obsesses over so much, or really any kind of payment as long he believes it fits with the terms and scale of the work, though in truth would prefer any less violent work to the more peaceful variety, often opting to talk than fight his way out of danger.
Bio: Saying Zeeborl's memory is somewhat patchy of his past is an understatement, as he struggles to remember much about his past. He remembers having a dwarf mother and a human father, but not anything about them or the rest of his family, including their faces. He remembered he worked at his family's trading post, learning the ways of the merchant there, but not who he worked with, or where this building was. He remembered he learnt how to wield a club from a renowned guardsman, but not how he had learnt this or when. He couldn't remember where he got his odd miniature catapult construct, how he managed to convince a rich noble to hand in his coat for some so called precious gems, or why he began travelling around in the first place.
Yes, Zeerbarl couldn't remember much of his past at all, but he could remember selling, and buying and trading, He could remember what items he had on his persons and in his cart. He could remember of how much and how little he wanted for his wares. He could remember the glorious shiny coins he kept. He could remember stuff and things and money. Especially money. They all seemed so real to him, so important, as if he had hoarded it since he became a merchant, as if it was his biggest desire in his past. Though those around him, seemed like hollow shells, empty beings, just walking wallets for him to barter and work with. It almost seemed as if, they weren't real, they were just ideas floating around or straying pieces of a lost dream.
Zeebarl couldn't make sense of the world around him in the slightest. But he could make sense of things. Yes, the things he kept and carried around so dearly were real to him, they were what stuck in his mind when he felt so lost. They were the reason he was a merchant, and why he still was one. So on that day, in the inn where his memories became hazy, he decided to roam around the world still, not searching for his past, but for gold and opportunity, trying his utmost to become the wealthiest merchant he could be. He didn't seem to care much of the rain that drummed against his coat. If anything it meant he could sell more robes and hoods.
Likes: Payment, Working as a merchant, Money, Fair Deals
Dislikes: Thievery, Losing out on a deal, Non-Customers approaching him
Fears: Losing his fortune, Becoming redundant as a Merchant