A kobold who is who is unaware that the sword he possesses has made him a cleric


Scales does not understand where his magical abilities originate from. His spells and cleric abilities seam to go off at random, yet they benefit the situation when occur. Scales frets about the source of his powers instead of praying to regain spells.

Scales is starting to figure out how to use his abilities. He seams to have figured out how to channel energy to heal, yet he thinks it only happens at the end of the day. He fumbles with the healing spells and almost has their use figured out. He has figured out how to use the Spell Stones spell on his sling bullets.


Scales was born in an abandoned mine, the Blood Granite mines to be precise. The mines, located at the southern tip of the Shadow Mountains in a lush valley, had been abandoned hundreds of years ago by the men of Wynstil when the main vein of Blood Granite ran dry. Not long afterwards, his kobold tribe moved in as they found the mines perfect as a new home. This was convenient for Scales, since he liked rocks. He played with them. He studied them. He shaped them and gave them names… those were his pets. He polished the pretty ones and threw the round ones at anything and anyone that came within his sights. He knew their origins and where to find them. He even knew the names that the dwarves had given the pretty ones. [+1 Knowledge: Geology; and it is a class skill]. When he wasn’t playing with his rocks, he was painting them. Scales was always on the lookout for anything that could be used as pigment to paint his rocks.

This spring, Scales was forced into labor at mines by the Drow. Last year, rumors spread amongst the foul creatures of the Shadow Mountains that Mithril had been found in the mines. In fact, a massive vein of mithril was discovered by the kobolds while expanding a deep passage as their numbers had swelled. The Drow, hearing these rumors, marched upon the mines and took control of the frightened kobolds. They forced the kobolds into slave labor. The food stores were consumed by the Drow who were far from their deep caverns. Starving, the kobolds began making minor raids on nearby communities in order to scavenge enough food for their enormous appetites.

The locals sent word to Wynstil that the kobolds were becoming a nuisance. The Archon of the Temple of Iomedae sent a battle priest, named Katadante, to aid them. Katadante, believing that only the kobolds were occupying the mines, stormed the entrance and slaughtered dozens of kobolds. Cowering behind a small cart, Scales picked up a rock and slung it at the priest. The rock struck Katadante’s helm and he fell to his knees. Katadante drew a shallow breath as foamy blood trickled from his mouth; his eyes rolled back; and he expired. The kobolds cheered and shouted Scales name. He had defeated the cruel priest.

At that moment, the Drow strode into the tunnel, they pillaged the body leaving only the sword in Katadante’s right hand. They had attempted to take the sword, but as they reached to touch it, intense pain filled their arms. They spat upon Katadante’s body; cursed at the sword and left. Scales crept forward gazing at the beautiful sword. He was a hero. He should have first claim to the spoils of the priest. Yet, the Drow had stripped the body. But Scales did not care. He only saw the sword and he wanted to claim it as his own. Fearing that he would suffer the same pain as the Drow, he hesitated. But the need for the sword was overwhelming, he must have it. He reached out his and grasped the pommel. He did not feel pain… he felt power.

No sooner had he claimed the sword, he felt emotions that had never before been part of his kobold heritage. He felt remorse for killing Katadante; he felt pity for the other kobolds; he felt contempt for the Drow. But something stirred inside him. He was not ready for the Drow. He could not protect the Kobolds. He must retreat from the mines; bidding his time; gathering power. He would return and free his people for he is their champion. What Scales did not know, and what none of the kobolds knew, was that twenty-seven, poison laced drow crossbow bolts were stuck in Katadante’s back. Scales was not a champion, but that mattered little at this point.

He quietly left the mines and ventured out into Oakwood Forest, the canopy of ancient oak trees protecting him from the sun. At first he stole and scavenged as a kobold would naturally do, but something told him that he was now above stealing… he was a champion. Looking at the attire and gear he had “acquired”, he felt shame for the first time. He returned to the scene of his crimes and left a pretty rock for them. This made him feel much happier. In fact, he had never felt such happiness.

Katadante’s Sword
This long sword was given to Katadante by Iomedae. This sword seeks out souls that can be “saved” and turns the person Lawful Good. The process takes time for full effect but cannot be resisted once the wielder willingly takes the sword. If the wielder is forcibly separated from the sword, they will make every effort to regain the sword, however, during that time they will slowly revert back to their original alignment. Once the character truly reaches LG, the alignment shift is permanent.

The sword may affect the wielders spell casting by causing him to fumble, fizzle, or cast a random spell.

The sword will refuse to harm any good aligned creatures; If Scales casts a spell intending harm on a good aligned creature, there is a 50/50 chance of fizzling a spell or critically fumbling. In all other cases, roll a d20: 1 = Fumble; 2-3 = Random spell from same level; 4-6 = Fizzle; 7-19 = Normal; Nat 20 = Critical Hit (Spell). For every 4th level, Scales gets a plus one to this roll (e.g. 4th, 8th, 12th, 16th, 20th.) This is just for spells, not combat.


Chronicles of Esteparon Hennesyr