Mrs. Zoelyn Lockart had nothing left.  Her home in Trestlebridge was destroyed.  Her husband dead.  Her sons dead.  Her lively hood destroyed.  If there was a rock bottom then Zoe dwelled ten feet below that.  Then dug deeper.  Her suffering blinded her to life and she had nothing to live for besides the next drink. 

Until, she met him.  The mad man found  Zoe in a dirty tavern, drinking away the coins she had begged for.  She was vulnerable to any rhetoric, any attention, any purpose.  The meaningless void started to fill with anger and misguided hate.  Under the guidance of Wulf, Zoe transformed into a walking nightmare that left logic behind.

Zoe, also called ‘Black’ by Wulf is a thin and angular woman.  Years of near starvation have sunken her cheeks to give her a sour look.  Perhaps with appropriate nutriotion she could be considered attractive but the resting scowl on her features makes it hard to tell.  Her long black hair is often pulled back in a braid down her back.  The dark eyes lacked mirth and made her look slightly like an angry feline.