Name: Zazie sa Nehanakhten
Nicks: Zazie Rotten, Gothling, Sandrat, Dustling
Race: Halfling
Jobs: Archaeologist, academic
Faith: Nephthys
Concept: https://ibb.co/RQY7Hy2
Theme: The Gift of Sight, by Peter Gundry - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xz4E0LQpWo0

Appearance
Even at a glance, Zazie is a strange example of her kind. With sun-bronzed skin and jet hair, she hardly looks like most of her more nomadic kin. The left side of her body is covered in geometric black brands, though these are typically covered by her apparel. Her left arm is perpetually wrapped in bandages, and she carries a small limp that subtly favors her left leg. The right side of her body is wholly unaffected by whatever ailment or injury she suffers. Her posture is that of someone that is unable to find a good night's rest, typically bearing a slight slouch of exhaustion, and her expression matches it, with small circles beneath her dark eyes.

Her clothing is typically a spontaneous assortment of things, though they all maintain a single commonplace feature: they are comfortable. Whatever oddities might be attached or used as accessories, they never create any discomfort for the halfling, or they are otherwise practical, with many pockets or places to set her belts and satchels. There are three items that she will always be seen with, no matter where she goes, unless her equipment is taken from her: a lantern, a shovel, and a tome. Each of these seems to have a special place in her heart, though her unchanging, deadpan presentation would never admit it.

Of the smaller physical details, her physique is what might be expected of an underfed halfling. She is scrawny, with little in the way of muscle mass but plenty of flexibility. She would be lucky to claim three feet tall on her tip-toes and might weight twenty-five to thirty pounds dunked in a pool of thick tar. Her voice is soft-spoken, with an unaccented, clinical method of speech, and an unflinching monotone pitch. While she might catch a few eyes for those that enjoy the malnourished egypto-goth girl vibe, the sickly-sweet odor of formaldehyde and herbal chemicals might turn a few noses away, as the soiled, low-quality bandages that adorn her arm are often soaked in the stuff.

Personality
In a word, strange. Zazie presents herself as a deadpan and expressionless academic, and it is not far from the truth. Though she is not wholly emotionless like some manner of automaton, Zazie has greatly repressed her emotions to the extent that even in moments of extreme fear, sadness, or joy, she offers only dim examples or commentary. Where a normal soul might laugh, she states that it was funny; where someone might grieve, she simply retreats into silence and solitude. Even at the height of terror, she is likely to shuffle along at a hurried pace and share only a monotone 'aaaah.'

Of note, Zazie seems unperturbed by most things. She worries little about day to day struggles and is disinterested in heroics or villainy. She maintains an air of apathy, though she will freely speak of things that stir her passions or interest and fascinate her greatly. Beyond apathy, she also maintains a sense of melancholy or fatigue, though she insists that nothing is amiss. Anyone speaking with Zazie would be quick to discover a genuine academic, and those that dig deeper would find a free spirit unbound by any interest in laws and a solitary romantic too enamored with the idea of romance to properly pursue its possibilities.

Background Summary
Only a few scant details have been offered about Zazie's background. Born in some desert dominion beneath the cruel tyranny of some god-king, Zazie was never bound by the yoke in her life, and eventually escaped the boundaries of that dire nation. She has hinted about the presence of a tutor within her life's tale, and has spoken often and fondly of a bodyguard that she was separated from prior to arriving in Hadrian.

However, extracting details about Zazie's life seems to boil down to a few particular points: she is an archaeologist, unwilling to submit her freedom to authority or hierarchy, and has been one for much of her life. A bold soul might think to steal one of the journals or diaries she always keeps with her; others might simply ask. Of particular note is that for someone that looks so young (barely escaping the clutches of adolescence, judging by her body type), she often proclaims herself to be so very, very old. Many of her belongings and much of her knowledge has very clearly been collected over a long period of time, and dozens of her books appear to have been written by her own hand.

She has stated that her "Goddess" is the Mulhorandi protector of the dead, Nephthys, though she rarely refers to the Goddess by name.

More details will be added to this section as people pry into her past...