King of the Stolen Lands
A red scaled kobold covered in black soot and war paint.
Zat Katel Sootscale, male, Great Redscale Kobold Rogue 2
HD 2d8+4; 19 HP; [8+2+1]2+1]
AC: 16, Touch: 15, Flat-footed 13;
Dagger: + 5 (1d3+2) 19-20/x2
Big Man dagger: + 5 (1d4+2) 19-20/x2
Sv F+2, R+6, W+2; AL: N; Str 14, Dex 16, Con 14, Int 10, Wis 14, Cha 10
S+F: Acrobatics +8, Climb +7, Disable Device +8, Escape Artist +8, Perception +9, Sleight of Hand +8, Stealth +12, Use Magic Device +6, Weapon Finesse
Features: Weapon and Armor Proficiency (Simple & Rogue Weapons, Light & Shield), Darkvision 60ft, Natural Armor +1, Perception +2, Swarming (Can enter ally’s square, if same race, and count as flanking the enemy), Resist Fire 5, Sneak Attack +1d6, Trapfinding, Evasion, Rogue Talent()
Dirty Fighter- When you hit a foe you are flanking, you deal an additional 1 point of damage (this damage is added to your base damage, and is multiplied on a critical hit). This additional damage is a trait bonus.
Dangerously Curious- Use Magic Device is a class skill, gain a +1 trait bonus.
Languages: Draconic, Galifaran
Owlbear hooded leather cloak
Bandit Dagger(Wield like a shortsword)
Various leather straps and pouches
Leather scabbards for weapons
Fey Touched Boots of Elvenkind
Zat’s story is one most adventurers know all to well. When he was just a young kobold his cave was raided by adventurers. The slaughter was thorough, most of his tribe was dead or grievously wounded. He and several other hatchlings managed to survive the genocide by hiding in several barrels that still held food stuffs that were stolen from a human settlement not far from their caves. The adventurers claimed the weapons and armor of the dead kobolds as their own and “mercy” killed the few survivors. He continued to hide within the barrels, even when they were loaded onto a wagon that the adventurers brought with them. He stayed quiet and prayed to the mighty dragons of Eberron that they would not discover him. Days past, possibly weeks, eating nothing but oats and drinking rain water when it would trickle in.
Zat nearly gave up hope, believing that this barrel would be his grave, when he heard the unmistakeable roar of steel on steel. The adventuring party was beset by bandits, he knew it was time to strike and broke free of the crowded barrel. The other kobolds were just as eager to break free of their wooden capsules and soon they all tasted the sweet air of freedom and the blood of humans. The bandits and adventurers fought a long and deadly melee, both sides were devastated. The kobolds took up arms and finished off the remaining tall folk and ran to the nearest rocky outcropping. Several days had passed when they were discovered by the Thwamp-Tail tribe. They were brought to the court of Chief Thwamp-Tail, where he welcomed them as refugees and saw to it that they would be treated no differently than any Thwamp-Tail. His time with the Thwamp-Tails helped develop his skills as an acquisition expert. He was second only to the great Soot-Scale in pilfering supplies from stupid tall people.
In time, as in all things, change came. The Thwamp-Tails became the Soot-scales in an overnight coup. Allegiance was easily changed as the former Thwamp-Tails all saw Soot-Scale as the perfect candidate for tribal leadership for he was dark of scale and strong. There was a time of relative peace and prosperity for the small Kobold tribe.
Then the dark times came. A strange and creepy purple kobold came about, claiming to be a great shaman. Kobolds ofcourse are willing to accept any shaman for they have great power. He called himself Tartuk and he was accompanied by a talking bird by the name of Tick Biter. He brought with him a grotesque statue of a crounching horned devil. He warned the tribe that the Great Old Sharptooth was now in control of the tribe and to do his bidding was paramount. The Soot-Scales accepted this fate and praised their new patron and protector.
It wasn’t long that war came to the kobold caves. Mites had attacked, the filthy ugly fey that lived in the old Sycamore tree. They raided and captured the statue of Old Sharptooth, the shaman Tartuk was furious and proclaimed that the entire tribe was now cursed and would slowly whither and die. Chief Soot-Scale would not have his tribe suffer and waste away, he made every attempt to reclaim the statue, but the mites were too well defended and had terrible insect guardians. Tartuk made kobold sacrifices every phase of the moon Sypheros to appease Old Sharptooth. Chief Soot-Scale was growing ever more upset that this shaman had brought this scourge upon his tribe. Every phase claimed more lives, either by sacrifice or by raiding the old Sycamore tree. Zat and the great warrior Mik-Mak would soon face the daunting task of raiding the old Sycamore, when fate intervened…