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Zeia was born on a ship and grew up at sea, raised between ports by every kind of 'uncle' and 'auntie' imaginable. Sailing from The Storm March to the Redkeep and south to the Stormward, he has been to every major port between Setarco in the south and Stormwall in the north. In his veins flows the blood of almost every nation of the Kingdom, the far reaching merchants, privateers, sailors, buccaneers and pirates of his long ancestral lines having heeded the calling of the sea from every port and, in many cases, beyond. This life has exposed him to many cultures, teachings, languages, beliefs, and characters, and has shaped his world-view almost as much as being spirit-touched--for he is the direct descendant of a great shaman of the north, the name now lost in time, but not the gifts. Or perhaps he is simply not right in the head...

He is a bear of a man, bulging with muscles but with a ready and beautiful smile framed by a thick, medium length, braided black beard. Whether worn loosely or tied up in a horse-rail, his dreadlocks are decorated with feathers, beads and other bits of outlander paraphernalia. {w({nZeia's dreads are bundled up in a pony-tail, tied with a leather thong, to keep him a bit cooler in the summer heat. Furthermore, he still wears a black silk armband of mourning around his left biceps.{w){n

Never met a stranger; gregarious but intense. Able to make friends anywhere, and a capable, instinctive diplomat. Loyal to those he considers honourable. He has a long fuse, but when it blows, he has almost no limits. Slow to anger, fast to forgive if intentions can be ascertained. Never forgets a kindness or a slight, though he may not always act on the latter.