The ex-gladiator approaches all situations from the
perspective of the arena. Everything is a game, but a
deadly game. The winner of the game lives to fight again,
while the loser simply dies. He sees all opponents in these
terms, believing that if he does not kill them first, they
will surely kill him. He rules the raiders in the same way.
If any of his followers question his orders, he swiftly kills
them and asks if anyone else cares to disagree.
Zeburon does not talk about his encounters beneath
the ruins, but he proudly wears the trophies he won in
the depths. The iron helm covers his entire head. His eyes
sparkle malevolently from within the shadows of the thin,
menacing slit that cuts across the helm's front. Strange
designs etched into its sides mark it as something from
another age. The designs may be magical in nature, but
so far there have been no special powers attributed to the
helm or its matching gloves. The gloves are iron gauntlets
that fit snugly over Zeburon's hands. He wears no other
armor or clothing, save a breechcloth, sandals, and a short
black cloak. He wields a sword of sharpened bone.
The ex-gladiator is quite mad, but that does not hamper
his ability to lead. Of course, he leads his tribe down his
own dark paths of madness. He craves battle and has a
fierce blood lust that must constantly be sated. He hates
all those who are not slaves, for they turned him into
what he has become. He hates all slaves, for that was what he learned in the arena. Consequently, Zeburon
hates everyone and everything. Someday that hatred will
consume him, but until then he satisfies some of his foul
urges through the actions of the Black Sand Raiders.
Zeburon became leader of the Black Sand
Raiders in much the same way as all of its members
joined the tribe: he survived the tests of the caverns
beneath the Black Sand ruins. While he is the leader
of the tribe, which he rules through the strength of his
iron-gloved fists, he follows the advice of the defiler, Fevil.