'Ey now bwana, don' go losin' ya dreadnut...

–Zande Khanda

Zande Khanda
Bad like yaz








Freelance Mercenary, Headhunter, The Vulture

Eye Color





195 lbs


Zamorakian Zamorak symbol curved


Chaotic Neutral



Zande Khanda (Zahn-De Kawn-Dā) is a Karamjan-born mercenary who migrated into Asgarnia from the Wilderness. He's a former skirmisher from the Horde of Decay, a deathbringer of the Black Regiment, a Morytanian corpse smuggler, and a commander of the Kinshra. He's a headhunter by hobby and currently resides within the slums of Canifis. He was disowned by his Karamjan tribe for excessive violent tendencies and no longer holds any connection to his old family. He believes that Zamorak is a noble deity and that by accumulating a fearsome reputation one can become an ethical "whipping boy", helping others to unite by giving them a common enemy to focus on. That being said, Zande has always enjoyed his job, every bit as much as he enjoys tropical delicacies. He is rarely seen not munching on a banana or gulping down rum.

Zande suffers from an extremely acute case of ailurophobia, an unusually intense fear of felines. He also frequents combat hotspots and goes hunting in the Wilderness to to amass "trophies" for his enormous collection. Whenever he isn't causing trouble Zande may be found relaxing in a bar, playing pranks, or searching for bargains in the local market. He especially enjoys good deals on flashy clothing. The man loves his fashion.

He is played by the user Doc Doctor.


Despite his gruesome hobbies, Zande is an extremely friendly and approachable man. He doesn't mind sharing food and drink and loves goofing around. Zande even seems at ease amongst vampyres and white knights. Though this may be legitimate affection, it could also just be the fact that he doesn't consider any other living creature in Gielinor besides the Shaikahan to be a threat. Just as a lion frolics carelessly about on the Savannah, the free-spirited Zande comes and goes as he pleases, associating with anybody he wants to and doing whatever he desires. He is a straightforward thinker and often acts on his gut instincts, as naughty as they may be. This goes without saying, he is by no means a dullard.


Zande being cornered by a terrifying kitten.

Though ruthless with his enemies, Zande gives quarter to women and children. He has no qualms about fighting dirty but prefers to only hunt strong game that has at least a little potential for challenge. He doesn't have any long-term goals and enjoys just living in the moment. He delights in life's simple pleasures, engaging in such frivolous activities as adventuring, boozing, and partaking of the temporary company of white women. He has a mischievous side and adores pulling pranks as well, but more so that he enjoys food. Zande adores every kind of exotic edible and will merrily eat just about anything that can be digested. After a long, hard day of headhunting, Zande finds nothing so grand as to kick back, grab some imported Karamjan rum, and dig into a fat slice of home-style long pork pie. He also likes dressing fancy and keeping with the latest Karumjan fashion trends, gaudy as they may be.

He doesn't take female rejection well and can fall into a miserable depression if a woman refuses his company. Possibly his greatest personality flaw, Zande has an intense and unreasonable feline phobia. At the merest sight of even a teeny kitten he loses bladder control and flies into hysterics. He is entirely mentally incapacitated with fear when faced with the likeness of a cat, even if it is only a carving. The only thing he can do is sob in terror and flee for the sake of his mortal sanity. Only one thing can comfort Zande after a frightening encounter with a kitty; tending to his pets. Zande harbors several trained vultures and they among the only living things he truly cares for. Though he usually has a very mellow attitude and a remarkably long fuse, harming his vultures is a surefire way to draw out his bad side. That, and being a traitor. Zande is astoundingly loyal to whomever he pledges service and despises traitors with a fiery intensity. When he was banished from his home village at a young age, he felt betrayed by his own people and swore to never again suffer anybody that two-times him.



Born in a tribesman village West of Brimhaven, Zande was what could best be called a problem child. One of the laws of the jungle is that one must kill only to survive. Zande killed for food, and he killed in self defense. But, to the shame of his family, he also killed for fun. He was a prodigal hunter and could get the drop on a wild larupia as easily as he could chase a monkey up a tree, and both things he did on many occasions. Unfortunately he also liked getting the drop on warriors from other villages. With every kill he made, be it animal or man, Zande collected the head. He filled his little hut up with body parts and would spend many hours gorging himself on the raw flesh. As months passed his hut was soon filled with the stench of rot, and soon even the patience of the grizzled tribe leader waned. At last when the smell became too much the leader marched over to Zande's hut and flung the thatch door open, determined to get rid of the boy's gory stash. To his astonishment, a veritable tidal wave of decomposing skulls crashed into him and knocked him to the ground, the tribe leader nearly buried beneath the sheer number of heads.

Rambunctious little blighter.

Upon realizing that the young headhunter's obsession was far beyond sane, the leader banished the boy from the village and forbade him to ever return. Zande's precious little heart was broken and despite his desperate pleas to stay, he was forced to leave everything he knew behind. Zande traveled from village to village in an effort to find a new home, but word of his reputation had spread. He was completely shunned by Karamjan civilization, forced to live in the wild. Vengeful tribesmen from other villages even attempted to track him down and kill him. His feelings of betrayal were beyond words. As warm tropical rain soaked the dense foliage in which he hid, Zande swore to never again allow someone break his trust and live.

With nothing left to lose, Zande set out to claim his revenge. He adapted quickly to his new lifestyle and became self-sufficient. When he got hungry, he ate fruits and wildlife. When he was thirsty, he drank rain water that had collected on broad leaves. His already deadly abilities became deadlier and eventually he could not only escape hunting parties with ease, but single-handedly annihilate them. He became a ghost, picking off anybody that strayed out of sight and even killing hunters who were in full visibility with such skill that their deaths went virtually unnoticed until it became obvious that the size of the hunting party had been greatly diminished. Then one night, his life changed again. A few years after his banishment, he had grown into a formidable young man and was ready to hunt down and kill his old tribe leader. Zande gleefully darted through the jungle and towards his village, ready to take life and give death. What he wasn't ready for, however, was the Shaikahan.


Zande cowering in mortal fear from the Shaikahan.

Zande didn't see the terrible beast lying in wait and ran right into it. The scourge of the jungle. The greatest predator on Karamja. Zande didn't stand a chance. Only his wild instinct and razor-sharp reflexes saved his life. Zande sprung out of the way, the beast's massive paw just skimming the right side of his face. A long foreclaw opened a deep gash down the side of his head, from which a lifelong scar would remain. He rolled to his feet, reaching for his spear... And was frozen by the demon creature's glare. To some, the gaze of the Shaikahan could hardly be called intimidating. There are those who know no fear, and certainly there exists those who would have no problem conquering such a monster. Perhaps it touched upon some primal fear deep within the young warrior's subconscious. Perhaps it was because Zande had never encountered anything so dangerous in all his life. Whatever the reason, it just so happened that the Shaikahan was more terrifying than anything the still naïve young man could have ever imagined.

Zande soiled his robes, turned tail, and fled for his life. He leapt through foliage and scampered over fallen trees as quickly as his long legs could carry him, the Shaikahan in hot pursuit. He could hear its swift footfalls and heavy breath right behind him. Adrenaline lent speed to the young man's feet. Through sheer luck Zande was able to find refuge in a dense and thorny brush, entering through a gap that was just his size. The chase had only lasted several seconds, all that would have normally been needed for the dreaded monster to chase down its prey. But Zande had been incredibly agile and fleet of foot. He dove into cover just in time, the beast snapping at his heels but stopping short as long thorns dug into its tender face. Nearly mad with fright and bleeding all over his body from scrapes and bruises, Zande could only quiver like a rabbit and stare wild-eyed at the persistant monstrosity that patiently stalked back and forth. For two days it waited, never allowing the tribesman a moments rest.


The Wilderness is very scenic.

Eventually, the Shaikahan was finally lured away by a passing monkey. Shivering violently from dehydration and fear, Zande crept out from his hiding place and went North towards Brimhaven, desiring nothing more than to distance himself from the nightmare. Along the way he replenished his strength with tropical fruit. In the evening he arrived, and killed a drunken pirate that had been loitering alone behind a bar. He claimed the man's head, money, and rum before buying himself a one way ticket off the island via Charter ship to Port Sarim. He stole a map from a general store in Rimmington and decided that the best way to make up for the shame of having been stripped of his apex predator status in Karumja was to travel to the Wilderness and become the top dog there instead. Prison style. And so Zande slaughtered his way across Asgarnia, looting the equipment and heads of those he felled. Soon such a sizable bounty was placed upon his head that he could no longer reside among civilized company. He completed his long trek, hopped the Wildy Wall, and embraced his new future with open arms and a toothy smile.



A small portion of Zande's morbid hoard.

As it turned out, Zande was more at home in the Wilderness than he had ever been in the jungle. No laws, no taboos, no limits. He adapted very quickly. The very first thing he did was enter a camp of bandits, steal their leader's head, and become their new boss. Naturally he had been met with a fair deal of opposition, but in the same way he hadn't stood a ghost of a chance against the Shaikahan, the bandits didn't stand a ghost of a chance against Zande. In less than a week they gave up on trying to murder him in his sleep. Every day he'd venture out to hunt challenging prey, stalking and decapitating anybody and anything that he caught wind of. In two years he had amassed so many kills that his troupe of bandits had to dig out an immense cavern just to store all of the trophy bones in. He sold the equipment of his victims and used the money to purchase illegal Zamorak potions to increase his physical ability. Despite his best efforts, however, Zande couldn't seem to reach his goal of complete dominance. The Worshippers of the Dragonkin resided within the deep Wilderness and their sheer numbers and above-average training made them incredibly difficult to target. They sent scouts ahead to keep an eye out for danger and always seemed to have the upper hand. Zande could only watch from afar and wish that he was strong enough to take them all on at once.

Despite these setbacks the headhunter's reputation grew. Zande was a proud man, but he knew he lacked enlightenment. At last he decided to visit a chapel devoted to the chaotic being known as Zamorak. Once again Zande's life was changed.


Zande had never taken his own morality into account before his visit to the chapel, and had always killed freely and without hesitation. But he was forced to re-think his ideals as he listened to the wise words of the monks of Zamorak. They convinced him that he was wasting his talents by just mucking about with bandits and killing aimlessly. The more they

A freshly converted Zamorakian.

spoke, the more Zande listened. While Bandos preached about survival of the fittest, Zamorak believed in helping both the mighty and the weak better themselves by forcing them to become stronger through chaos. There was so much to learn, so much to take in. It was a new world, unexplored by the bewildered savage. It was strange, alien, and... Alluring.

Zande felt the strings of destiny tugging and so he thought up his own take on the matter. If a person perceived as a villain gained enough power, then others would stop fighting amongst themselves and unite against him. A scapegoat for peace. Zande's eyes teared up at the thought of such an honorable role. Especially since it was a role he could fulfill without giving up his headhunting hobby! Right then and there, Zande renounced his former ways of evil and took up a brand new mantle of responsibility.

Zamorakians were heavily prosecuted on the opposite side of the Wildy's border, and as skilled as Zande already was he knew that what he currently had wasn't enough. He'd need to step up his game for the big leagues. As he pondered this, he came upon a nest of baby vultures. The parents had been devoured by a blue dragon. On a whim Zande decided to give parenthood a shot. He took the vultures back to his camp and at the suggestion of another bandit, began trying to train them. It was exceedingly difficult and they were by no means tame creatures. At every turn, they threw Zande for a loop. Some would fly away and not return for days. They were almost unmanageable. Yet as time passed, the headhunter found himself growing increasingly fond of the birds.


Ezili the vulture.

Zande persisted. He read stolen books on animal training and poured his heart into their education. After many months, progress finally began to show. The scavenging raptors finally learned how to retain their training and at the same time Zande became strongly attached to them. Never before had he felt such affection towards other living things. With nothing else holding him back, Zande chose then to head back into Asgarnia to seek his future and fortune. He took with him only Ezili, his favorite vulture, and for the first time in a decade left the Wilderness.


The first thing Zande set out to do was find others like himself. He needed to get connections. He enlisted into the Black Regiment, but things didn't quite turn out so well. There was no business and hardly anybody was eager to go cause mayhem. But then, he heard on the street that there was a Zamorakian faction hiding in Varrock, called the Horde of Decay. Zande found them with ease and quickly joined up. In order to test his loyalty, Commander Barry Ronson temporarily crippled Zande's right arm before initiating a spar. Even without the use of his primary weapon and limb, Zande was able to take Ronson to the floor and tear open his carotid artery. Ronson had severely wounded Zande as well, having stabbed him in the belly and flank. Pressed for time, Barry ended the match and had the official healer tend to their wounds.

Zande was glad to have found such an active group. They held meetings often and there was much fun to be had. On the downside, the pay was terrible and there were no benefits. The tribesman knew that he had to get another source of income if he wanted to maintain a decent standard of living. Zande set out for Falador, drawn in by the legendary Rising Sun Inn. He knew there was good money in hocking the items taken from dead bodies and surely no place on the planet had more death than Falador. Zande's presumption proved to be true. He made a killing, no pun intended. Unfortunately for Zande, his luck was not meant to last. Falador is a magnet for powerful opponents and those who are familiar with the city are well acquainted with the saying, "There is always a bigger fish". Zande was not. By poor chance he picked a fight with underworld goon Leopoldo Fritz, known more commonly by his epithet, "Dodgeman". Zande put up a good fight, but in the end was mauled to within an inch of his life and had to be hospitalized for a period of time. After fully recuperating the headhunter took to his training with more vigor than ever before, vowing to one day defeat Leopoldo. He left the mainland and traveled to the ever violent Soul Wars island, presided over by Nomad. Zande became engaged in constant life or death conflict in the midst of a never-ending war, fighting tooth and nail nonstop in order to grow stronger. After nearly two years of this he at last returned to Asgarnia, now strong enough to rival Leopoldo. He then joined the Kinshra, ready to stir up some trouble.


Zande attended the king of Camelot's coronation, and there kidnapped the Baroness of White Wolf Mountain. Using her as leverage he forced the Baron to allow the Kinshra to occupy the mountain. From there Zande bounced between the Battalion, Canifis, and Russia, acting as the middleman to form a new alliance. Zande proved himself to be a natural born leader. He instantly became the impromptu war-chief of the alliance and formulated a plan to attack and conquer Camelot, Ardougne, and Yanille, all in one fell swoop.

Unfortunately, he had a falling out with the Kinshra and the plans crumbled. His superiors felt threatened by his rapid progress and tried to assassinate the headhunter to keep him from gaining too much power. This backfired terrifically. Even after launching a surprise attack with a dozen black knights in a small room, the Kinshra

Zande made quite a few additions to his collection that day

were unable to subdue Zande. Their attempt at crowding him in proved to be their downfall, as once the tide of the battle turned they were unable to exit through the single door fast enough to keep from being slain. After having finished off every traitor in sight, the headhunter became the new Field Commander of the Kinshra Alliance. A few weeks later West Ardougne was sacked in a brutally one-sided raid. Working in tandem with the other Kinshra leaders to plan an all-out attack on East Ardougne, it seemed like victory was a shoo-in. Even the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry. Whilst Zande was awya, the Kinshra proceeded on with the invasion without him. They were defeated outright and lost West Ardougne, the land they had shed so much blood to gain. In disgust Zande decided to take a vacation.

Not long afterwards Zande encountered a vast black dragon and engaged the beast in mortal combat. It would have been nice for him to have killed it, but alas he didn't. Instead Alfred Klios killed the mythical reptile. Regardless, Alfred allowed Zande to take possession of the body. A little elbow grease and hired help later, and our wild headhunter had earned a glorious set of black dragonhide armor to wear beneath his usual garb. Just in time no less, for the Battle of Falador began shortly after! Seeking dark allies, Zande traveled to Mortania only to stumble upon a berserk greater demon, the hulking Azreal. Despite being outmatched in both speed, strength, and abiliy, Zande succeeded in forcing the demon to retreat after a grueling duel which destroyed half of Canifis. Zande failed in his quest to gain allies, but at least learned a thing or two about demons.

Despite the Kinshra's lack of numbers, they managed to lay siege to Falador! Whilst this occurred, Zande accompanied a small squadron of black knights to Rimmington. They easily annihilated the small town, killing every last resident, burning down the buildings, and poisoning the well. Zande's belt was laden with an excessive number of trophies after the raid.

Into the Black

Eventually conflict in Asgarnia died down, and Zande wound up with nary a thing to do besides train Kinshra initiates. Being the free spirit that he was, on a whim he traveled to Morytania and, after fighting off a troupe of Vyrewatch that had attempted to tithe him, struck a deal with the reigning Vyre lords. They agreed to pay him well for capturing other humans, alive or dead, and smuggling them over the Salve to be used as a food resource by Lycans and Vyres. Zande found himself making more money than ever before, the ridiculously illegal "meat trade" proving to be so lucrative to his talents as a hunter and killer that he turned it into a full-time job, albeit still able to fulfill his duties as a Kinshra captain during times of intense strife.


Zande is a tall, lean man whose musculature is best likened to that of a starved jaguar. The dense, tube-like muscles adorning his long arms and legs allow him to exude a great air of physical prowess despite his thin and wiry look. Unwashed dreadlocks hang over lurid, amber eyes whilst high cheekbones accentuate his abnormally sized jaw muscles, the feral aspect pushed even further by sharp, filed teeth. He often wears the skulls of recent victims upon his belt and is rarely seen without his rubber padded, steel clawed boots and black steel tribal mask. Zande's cape, however, is by far his most recognizable feature. A clearly visible skull and crossbones is sewn upon the ratty black cloak, neatly surmising the headhunter's affiliation with bones and death.

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He has a great affinity for axes, adoring them for their innate simplicity and destructive power. Inn his possession are a set of bearded sparth axes, a double headed iklwa headhunting spear, a simple one-handed club, and a large two-handed blade club.



Zande is an extremely experienced warrior and has fought innumerable enemies over the course of his life. His perception and skill is of such caliber that his reaction to a multitude of armed opponents is comparable to that of a child regarding a handful of toys. He can spot an opponent's vital opening instantly and end most scuffles with a single move. Much like in the wild jungle, a hunter must be skilled enough to take down prey with a single blow lest they get away or become cornered and dangerous. He tends to kill without giving his opponent any warning in order to save time and avoid being pointlessly injured. Yet, if forced to fight seriously, Zande switches from his usual façade of a clever and patient out-fighter to his true style. That of a hyper-aggressive rushdown in-fighter. He applies a constant and unrelenting pressure, calling forth his inner Wildman and abandoning all defenses to overwhelm the enemy.

Physical Aptitude

Zande's untamed strength is far greater than his appearance would suggest, albeit reasonably less than that of a formidable Barbarian or Fremennik. He can wrestle and subdue wild beasts with just his bare hands and overpower a stronger opponent through pure tenacity. These traits greatly pale in comparison to his incredible biting power. He never neglects to train his jaws by chewing through blocks of wood and chunks of rubber, being capable of chomping clean through an unhusked coconut with a single bite. The magnitude is most impressive near the back of his molars, where he can leverage out enough brute force to rival the PSI of a dire wolf. Equally impressive is Zande's great speed and agility, which his lean body is practically built for. He can scurry up and down trees in the blink of an eye and move with a silent swiftness that puts to shame his native brethren.

Brew Boosting

Since he first moved into the Wilderness Zande has put to use of various combat potions and illegally bought Zamorak brews. The risky potions allow him to fight at his peak, but at the cost of internal bleeding and a reckless insanity.
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A flask of Zamorak Brew.


Zande is exceedingly adept with axes but also enjoys putting the occasional makeshift club or spear to good use. He is most proficient with a pair of customised extra-large sparth axes, crafted with wide, broad blades perfect for decapitating his opponents and smashing through armor.
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He dubbed them 'At Steppa (Hot Stepper, slang for outlaw) and Jancro (John Crow, slang for vulture).


Soul Sacrifice

Soul Sacrifice

Zande's Main Theme


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