Kridor has one ambition... To reclaim his royal birthright.
Kridor is an orphan and while he knows nothing of his true parents or heritage, he believes he is of noble birth and vehemenently defends this claim with staunch aggression. Many have crawled away bruised and bleeding for questioning the integrity of his bloodline, but bold tirades and bitter brawls have yet to spur the aristocracy into granting him his entitled holdings.
As far back as he can remember, Kridor bounced between foster families, due to his terrible behavior and utter lack of respect for authority. Rebellion, temper tantrums, and bullying were all staples of his childhood, an all too short affair wrought with hard farm labor and often uncaring guardians in the guise of shepards. Indeed the only fond memories of his adolescence are the incredible stories overheard in front of the hearth on cold Rostlandic nights. Tales of Swordlords, mighty barbarian kings, and misty snow covered fortresses all stirred his struggling spirit, but it was the legend of Choral and the Battle at the Valley of Dust and Fire that truly awakened something deep within his soul. After hearing the event so vividly regaled by elder skagat singers, Kridor would fall to sleep soundly, dreaming of soaring through the majestic clouds high above the plains of Brevoy, watching the world below and judging all its creatures to be beneath him, but worthy to be his his loyal subjects none the less. Arriving at the historic battlefield where Choral had summoned his draconic allies, and after some curious exploration of the ancient site, Kridor unearthed a mysterious overlooked treasure. A gleaming dragons tooth, easily three foot in length, half buried in the shallow mire. The dream had always culminated in the same manner before waking, as Kridor grasped the tooth firmly in order to pull it free of the muck, he was suddenly engulfed in a ball of flames so hot that his skin immediately sloughed off in burning sheets, only to reveal a fresh sheath of ruby dragon scales beneath. It is these visions, that inspired Kridor to make the journey to the Valley of Dust and Fire, where he discovered the broken bastard sword, which he aptly named Choralfang and still proudly brandishes today.
For the last decade or so, Kridor has wandered the frigid plains of Southern Rostland selling his sword arm to the highest bidder. With little care for his work or his employers, and a nasty temper to boot, he is often searching for his next job, which will inevitably end like the last.
