LONZANGER

Fresh off the docks from Malphitia, Zeik brings with him the last of his cash, his needles, a surfboard, and a lease for purchase of a storefront just off Market Street. With a wide-brim straw hat of his own weaving and intricate tribal tattoos reaching from his wrists to his shoulder blades, Zeik is a fish out of water. Slung across with an old guitar strap, the newly christened entrepreneur slaps together a sign from his old board. Featuring Lonzanger’s signature cursive, he applies a healthy lather of redbrick dust and glue. Finally, in a stroke of artistic genius, Zeik tosses it at the railing upstairs until it hangs down, nonchalantly, for all to see.[break][break]

Zeik's Shit Shack!

Zeik comes from a long line of Lonzangers, each a storied and well-travelled businessperson. Many a chain in Melphitia can trace its planning permit, its angel fund or even its inception back to the recognizable style of Lonzanger cursive at the bottom of the paperwork. Zeik, however, was no such Lonzanger. Cut from a very different cloth, Zeik was uninterested in money from a young age, at least for a while. His occupations were friends and good vibes. He picked up surfing in his tweens, throwing himself at the water more so than the study that occupied his siblings. Soon after picking up his sport, Zeik began to flex his creative muscle as well, taking out a loan from a mate for some needles, soon decorating his friends in the tribal tattoos that were so prominent in his culture. He became enamoured with this newly discovered lifestyle. Beaches, Bays, Boats, Babes and Buying. This soon proved to be too much for the little toad to manage on his own, and he became known as something of a mooch. Constantly in debt to his mates and parents, the stagnant youth eked out existence on odd jobs and borrowed time. Though he was by no means without skill at what he finds interest in applying himself to, he very rarely ended up with anything resembling a career. He has worked a little bit of furniture in his time though. If you need a gate fixed, a cabinet built or a table shortened, Zeik is your guy. Having come to town with no stock for the store, the Croagunk is hoping that maybe he can ply his trade, with his needles or his hands, at least until he finds his feet.[break][break]

Lonzangwhomst've?

The Lonzanger name is well known around the islands of Melphitia, which float in the turbulent oceans to the East of Niphios. The distinctive cursive handwriting, taught to each of the Lonzanger line since it first opened a chain of General Stores some generations ago, is a hallmark of the family. With the franchise being centered in Melphitia, they have not yet expanded. All this is about to change, however, and soon that distinctive cursive will arrive on new shores. Anyone native to the islands Zeik calls home would be able to spot his heritage rather quickly, but it would likely pass overhead of anyone who has never visited. Perhaps literally. Who knows how many people will walk under Zeik's crude signage before he manages to entice anyone inside.[break][break]

The Straw That Broke The Camerupt's Back

While spending a week on a friend's couch, Zeik put his foot though an acoustic guitar, quite unintentionally, he would assure you. This friend, as with most of Zeik's, came from a similar status as his own parents, the upper crust. It was not a cheap thing for the frog to have broken. Exchanging silence for a promise of swift repayment, Zeik returned to the family home, figurative tail between his legs. He was met with a surprise ultimatum. It seems that in his absence, his father had made a deal with another businessman from Niphios, "across the pond", so they said. There was a storefront off Market street that was now in the Lonzanger name. It now fell to Zeik to make something of it and himself. He was told to drain his emergency fund, travel to the address and be turning a profit within the next year. He would not want to fail at this, it was stressed. This was his Father meaning Business, after all. He would have no assistance. Without even a word to his friends, Zeik grabbed the few possessions could carry, and headed out of his house into the new world, his lifeline severed. Truly, for the Surf Rat, it was now sink or swim.[break][break]

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