Metronome — Roleplayer Guild

Name: Zinzie Searoby, The Witch King of the Wandering Nation
Age: 29
Race: Witch

Appearance:  He is very tall and lanky. Zinzie is 6'5", and had long limbs and knobby joints. His skin is a fair olive complexion, and his eyes are a rich brown. His hair, constantly in a state of disaster, is curly and brown. Zinzie's fashion of choice is flowy, loose clothing. Shirts of light, sheer fabric, pants with a drawstring, shoes (if any) made of soft hide. He hates winter, or being forced to bundle up. He can often be seen using a warming potion just so that he doesn't have to. His overall waifish appearance often has him underestimated, but don't let him fool you. Zinzie is an extraordinarily gifted witch. 

Personality: Not what you may think of when thinking of a powerful king; Zinzie marches to the beat of his own drums. He's friendly, maybe a bit goofy, maybe a bit scatterbrained, and a little bit cryptic. Zinzie is very intelligent, but you certainly wouldn't think it at first; he loves nothing more than to play dumb. His sense of humor and unassuming nature leads people, somewhat intentionally, into underestimating his ability as a king. However, having successfully led a caravan of five hundred thousand since teenagerhood, Zinzie is anything but incompetent. 

Equipment:

Zinzie is never caught without his set of potions. These include:

Healing potion x3
	Sleeping draught x2
	A very lethal poison x1
	Truth serum x1
	Draught of confusion x3

Potion making supplies

An enchanted pan pipe - bestills peace on those who hear it 

His familiar - A small, shaggy black dog that never leaves his side

Shire:

Shire is Zinzie's familiar. He takes the form of a small, black dog with wiry hair. While not initially concerning, a witch's familiar is far more than just a pet. Shire is very intelligent, and has the ability to commune with Zinzie, and even has a little magic of his own. His best and most useful trick is changing shape. Zinzie can hit Shire with a transfiguration spell to turn him into another animal that would prove useful at the time. Ultimately, Shire chooses the animal. The limitations of this being that Shire must be close to Zinzie to transform. 

It's also rumored that Shire and Zinzie can transform together into one, very formidable form. What this form is has yet to be discovered, as Zinzie hasn't shared it with his people. 

Profession: King of the Wandering Nation

Backstory: 

The Wandering Nation is a massive caravan of nomads that travel through the land, self sustained by wagons that grow food, herds of their own cattle, and a little magic. Word has it that it's numbers are over half a million. It all began when the tyrannical King Braspian IV targeted a small, peaceful nation that just so happened to sit upon a large iron deposit. His army all but flattened the nation, and he intended on rounding up the citizens, whom he saw as filthy witches and thieves, and selling them all into slavery. Fortunately, the current king, Zinzie's great grandfather, evacuated the land and took the last of his army to meet King Braspian at the border to earn them enough time to escape. All of them were brutally slaughtered, but the nation survived, in spirit at least.

That was the birth of the Wandering Nation: a whole population of people without a land. Zinzie's great grandmother lead it as queen, then passed it down to his grandfather, and his father, who died in battled with a caravan of thieves when Zinzie was 17, thus passing the crown to him. Since then, it has only grown in numbers, gathering those who Braspian has forced from their homes, those who seek refuge. 

As one can imaging, the Wandering Nation isn't on the best terms with King Braspian, as they exist solely to spite him. The idea of an opposing king vexes him. To further gall, this king is a witch! The citizens of the old country were well known to dabble in magic, and the royal family were known witches, and powerful ones at that. Zinzie is no exception. The Wandering Nation has an unusually high population of witches, mages, and wizards, all of whom make it more of a threat to the tyrant king they oppose. He's avoided tangling with them thus far, as he fears the magic they wield. 

Recently, Zinzie has been mingling with the League of Princes, toying with the idea of going to war to finally overthrow the evil king. Doing so would give his people the freedom to finally claim a land again. 

Shared Worldbuilding: An audience with the King

Prince Rubio was in utter awe. They said it was massive; they said it stretched for miles. But the sheer sight of the caravan, slithering across the valley like an enormous snake, was both incredible and terrifying. He had heard rumors of the king, wily and enigmatic, while very powerful. The very king he had tracked for months; the king he intended on having an audience with. 

He clicked his tongue softly, urging his horse to descend the embankment and begin the gallop into the valley below. As he approached the caravan, three scouts rode out to meet him. He was alone, posing no threat, but he still felt his heart pump rapidly at the thought of having to defend himself against these men. 

"What brings you here, traveler?" One of the rider asked as they cut him off. 

"Please, I need to speak to the king, I-"

"Outsiders don't speak to the king," The man cut him off. "If you come in peace, you are welcome to stay, but the King doesn't make appointments with strangers." 

"Please, I come with word from the League of Princes. We ask that king Zinzie hears us out."

The men exchanged glances among themselves. They seemed to be silently debating whether the prince told the truth, or perhaps if he was worth their king's time. 

"You can join our nation," One spoke, "But you can not have audience with the king. We will inform him of your presence, and he can decide whether he wishes to meet you." 

"It's about the war, it's very important."

The three scouts turned their horses around and rode back in the direction of the caravan. Prince Rubio, defeated, rode after them.

Sasha shoved the canvas tent flaps aside and stepped up onto the wooden platform the structure sat on. He noticed two people, a man and a woman, introducing themselves. His new tentmates, clearly. As the woman snagged one bottom bunk, Sasha tossed his bag on the other. There was no way he was climbing up and down that tiny ass ladder every day. He listened as the man announced his name, putting it away to hopefully not forget. Sasha opened his duffel bag and pulled out a clean tank top, and peeled the currently soaked one off of his skin. The fresh, dry cotton on his skin was a small and welcomed relief as he pulled the new one on, then slathered on some antiperspirant to try and keep it remotely dry and stink free. 

He turned to the other two and stepped towards them to enter the conversation. "Sasha Belov," He said, his voice deep and his accent relativity thick. He held his left hand out to offer a shake, keeping his right arm to himself. The bionic limb wasn't always well received; some people were a bit skeptical of it. 

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