Herbert "Herb" Zobrist
Born in 1845 in Lexington, IL to devout Episcopalians, Herb was the apple of his older sister Helen’s eye. Growing up relatively well off, as his father ran the general store in town, he ran away from home at 17 to join the Union army. He served as a sharpshooter, due to his impressive skill with a rifle; however, he only gives the vaguest of details regarding his service except for a period he spent in Satterlee Hospital in Philadelphia recovering from a back injury.
This period of relative ease gave him two things, a laudanum habit and his love for Margaret Ann, one of the nurses on his ward. Discharged as soon as he was mobile, he would’ve gone home except for a letter he received informing him of the death of his sister of scarlet fever and inviting him back home to help run the store. When he proposed to Margaret Ann, asking her to go home with him to Lexington, she declined and informed him of an existing engagement to one of the physicians. Heartbroken and morose, he had one of the neighboring patients write a letter home to his family stating he had succumbed to his wounds.
After several years of fecklessness, he joined the Hennessey agency with the Chicago fire job to pay some gambling debts. The work, although intended to be short term, has proved rewarding and lucrative to keep him in.
When not working, Herb spends most of his time in a brothel and is quite a popular figure with the employees.
Mental characteristics
Mental Trauma
PTSD
Social
Contacts & Relations
Margaret Ann: a nurse from Philadelphia, love of Herb’s life, married to a Dr Thomas Mason, has a son “young Tom”
Becky: prostitute in Chicago, works at a brothel, sometimes lover, sometimes informant for Herb
James “Jem” Shirley: pickpocket/gambler/criminal “entrepreneur” in Chicago, frequents the brothel that Becky works at and vies with Herb for her affections
Year of Birth
1845
28 Years old
Birthplace
Lexington, IL
Children
Eyes
brown
Hair
close cropped, middling brown
Height
5'8"
Weight
130
Aligned Organization
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Osage Mission
March 18, 1873
Dearest Margaret Ann,
The weather and lack of daylight have provided me with a moment to write you and I have the silliest encounter to relate! As I have already recounted, we are in Kansas on the trail of a doctor, the younger brother of a state senator, who has disappeared. Two days ago, while riding along the Osage Trace, my tack needing adjusting and so I stopped to rectify it. This would not be unusual, but you will not believe what happened as I was doing so. A man standing in the nearby bushes urinated on my boot!
I know we saw worse in the hospital and our clothes were often soaked in excrement but I must admit my temper got the best of me, and I beg your forgiveness, as I drew on him. I shot at him with my pistol, only to scare him off, and, well, I will not relate to you what followed except that it ended in the deaths of the Crawford Gang and none of my cadre. I was wounded, but only minorly and have made a quick recovery. One of my cadre was almost a doctor, a Henry Mumple, and a much better sort than the sawbones we saw in Philadelphia, excepting your Thomas. I hope he and young Tom are in the best of health.
My garments have become a little ill fitting and you know how important they are. Please find enclosed strings with my measurements and visit that little shop. You know to draw on my account at First Pennsylvania and forward any purchases through the Hennessey agency, we are sending daily telegraphs and they will know where to find me.
Yours always,
H
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