Zarboluket's page

Brithplace: Finderplain Nationality: Katapeshi
Parents: Galungbalom and Frazi

Childhood incident: While in Absalom, Zarboluket entered a festival’s dancing competition at the age six. The applause as he spun, twirled, and pirouetted invigorated him as his strength began to fade. Round after round, the thrill he felt coursing through him from the graceful and fluid movements of his body and the joy accepting the accolades of the audience propelled him to more daring maneuvers. He ultimately lost in the final round of competition, but he didn’t complain. He had danced like he never had before. This fueled his desire to learn as many different dances from the world’s cultures as he could.

Adolescent incident: With his parents, he returned to Finderplain to see his birthplace. One day while exploring the marketplace, he saw a gnome sprawled in the shade of a tree, drooling in the dust, exhibiting the late signs of the Bleaching. Other gnomes either steered clear of the gnome or ignored him. Zarboluket approached, slowly, a tad fearful. He knew he couldn’t catch the Bleaching, yet...he’d never seen a gnome this close up with such an advanced case. Sitting next to the gnome, he watched over him, protecting him from any trouble. The gnome’s groans and whimpers sent uneasy shivers up his spine. Shadows lengthened across the marketplace before the gnome woke. The flatness of the gnome’s voice as he thanked Zarboluket shocked him. Zarboluket attempted to cheer him up by dancing, performing all the dances he knew. Poshment thanked him again. Day after day, Zarboluket watched over Poshment in the marketplace. After a fortnight, Poshment’s Bleaching halted and his voice sounded richer. He asked Zarboluket if he wanted to learn the art of fencing. Zarboluket agreed, partly because he did want to learn, but also partly because he thought it would help arrest the Bleaching.

Training: Poshment gave Zarboluket a full education in weapons and armor and how to use his flair for dance and acrobatics as well as his wit and cunning in combat. Poshment travelled with the family as they roamed around the eastern part of the Inner Sea; especially Taldor. Around his thirtieth birthday, Zarboluket’s uncle Droshtor was crushed to death by a giant. His gnome hooked hammer was snapped in half as well. Zarboluket acquired the family heirloom weapon and had the pick end reworked into a heavy pick. He trained and fought with this weapon for years.

Joining Pathfinder Society: Ever since Zarboluket was a child he had written to Pathfinders from first published adventurers to venture-captains asking for their advice in finding his own adventures. One new Pathfinder in particular struck up a correspondence with him. After he had left his home, and finished his education with Poshment, Zarboluket wandered northern Katapeshi researching different dances between the Badawi and the Garundi. After a fierce sandstorm rearranged the dunes, Zarboluket found the remnants of a mortarless brick house, which contained pots filled with papyri; ancient Osirian manuscripts, one of which was for refining pesh! He wrote to his main Pathfinder friend, a member of the Taldor faction. By now his friend was a venture-captain. He invited Zarboluket to join the Pathfinder Society, specifically the Taldor lodge. Zarboluket agreed. He liked the faction’s methods of playing groups against other groups. It reminded him of a prank and also orchestrating a complex dance.

Most difficult Pathfinder mission: Infiltrating Cheliax within a performance troupe to help a slave escape was his most difficult mission. They performed during a week-long festival. After the final performance at the manor, Zarboluket magically disguised himself as the halfling they were liberating. Zarboluket switched positions with the halfling as the troupe was packing up their stage decorations and props. Once the halfling was away, Zarboluket’s task was to impersonate the halfling so that when Zarboluket escaped, the disappearance of the slave wouldn’t be linked to the troupe. For three weeks, the gnome did his best. His muscles ached every day and he had to make excuses about why he was weaker than normal. He was beaten. Not once could he relax fearful of his ruse being discovered. Finally, when it was time to escape, a halfling betrayed him to the overseer. Armed with a stolen butter knife, Zarboluket fought a small pack of dogs as he escaped the manor. He had cached his weapons and armor just over the property line. Still in the halfling disguise, by the time the overseer and two guards caught him he was fully prepared for them. He cut their hamstrings and rode off on a conjured horse.

Five minutes in his day: In an alley of Absalom, Zarboluket flipped his sword in the air and caught it. The midday sun glinted off the mithral. Pointing the tip at his adversary, he laughed. ”I could be ‘a pesh head’ right now and still defeat you! You call that balanced? Look at your feet! If I held the sword like that my master would return from the Bleaching. Tell your friend he needs to stop clomping around behind me if he’s trying to be sneaky.” He steps to the side to look over his shoulder. We’re at a figurative crossroads. You can take one branch and attack me. I know, and you probably do too, that I’ll win. You’ll get a few cuts, a scar, but you’ll live. Another branch involves you running as fast as you can away from here. A third branch...we could go to a tavern and you can tell me why you’re accosting a gnome in such an unfriendly manner. I won’t buy you drinks, but you won’t pay for mine either. So what do you say? I’ll step over here and let you two deliberate your options.” Sword ready to strike, Zaroluket approached the first man and slipped by him. The two men whispered together for about ten seconds then ran off.

Zarboluket sighed. ”If I hear you’re picking on gnomes I’ll pick on you!” he yells after them, pulling his pick from his side and brandishing it at the departing men. ”If you change your mind, you can find me at the Gnarled Gnome’s Gnawing Gnats.”

He likes to laugh. He gets mad when strangers make fun of his below average strength. He’ll get annoyed if friends make fun of him, but as long as it isn’t too drawn out, he doesn’t let it escalate to anger. He doesn’t often ask, “What’s in it for me?” in terms of money. Adventure, humor, and swordplay are usually more than enough. He flirts with female gnomes and finds taller species fairly repulsive.

Ht: 3’ 6”
Wt:  41 lbs
Age: 53
Hair: Copper
Eyes: Purple
Skin: Dark mead

Amethyst colored armor, gemstone rings on his fingers, hummingbird feathers sewn into a maze-like sigil on the back of his jacket. Short sword and heavy pick on his hips, a dagger by his belt buckle, and a dagger in his boot. He doesn’t like necklaces so will rarely wear one.