Basdemar's page

Basdemar image
Basdemar token

Basdemar is big for a kobold. Standing next to halfling or a gnome he is a match in height if not in weight. And the wings on his back and head frills along with curving horns give him fierce mien and appearance of size much bigger than he really is. He is "tamed", "cultured" - he wears clothes, equipment...but weirdly, only a dagger at his belt. Dressed in armor covered in soot paste to be non-reflective black and carved with scale relief, it is almost as if he has dragon scales himself.

He carries himself proudly, standing straight and tall. Until the combat comes when he turns into hissing, spitting image of his much larger cousins.

Str 12 (-2 racial) 2pts
Dex 17 (+2 racial +1@4th) 13pts
Con 16 10pts
Int 12 2pts
Wis 12 2pts
Cha 7 (+2 racial) -4pts

Basdemar was bulkier than his clutch-mates and stronger than most. Thus, it was no surprise when he could win any fight within the tribe except against tribes warriors and Chief Sootscale. By the time he was twelve, he towered over everyone except Chief Sootscale. And by that time he was already out with the warriors defending their warrens or fields. The chief feeling ever more threatened sent the youngling out hoping something will end him before he comes of age.

But Basdemar was unusual in other ways. His power was reigned in by the teachings of Silverwing. Apsus ideals of Honor, of the primacy of scaly folk, found fertile soil in the young mind. Being forward and not fearing things due to his unusual strength, teachings of Gaknulak with his focus on traps and trickery never sat well.

At one point, while his fist (kobold warrior squad) defended their field patch from some conquering humans, a patrol of kingdom guards came and (surprise!) stopped the confrontation. And among them was, a wonder of wonders, a kobold! Sootscale kobold! commanding them. This was Mikmek, on his way to the warrens. Young Basdemar spotted him occasionally on his earlier visits, always going directly to the chief. But this! Young warrior was smitten by hero worship. And his fascination only grew when Mikmek noticed the youth among adult warriors. Mikmek explained to the fist that humans don't live in tribes as kobolds do and that each new family of them has to be appraised of a peace accord with kobolds. Weird humans.

Mikmek took time to train with Basdemar, teaching him his own fighting technique, quick, darting attacks with knives. Best done from ambush. But Basdemars hands, bulky and with claws almost double the size of Mikmeks couldn't hold the blade or change the grip as fast as the rogue. He adapted, using his claws like daggers. With more experiences knife master he lost. Always. Even striking with his tail, he couldn't land a telling hit. And if they started far away, he was always ambushed and 'killed' in a single strike. But outside, he still used the spear as proper warriors do.

Chief Sootscale, despite Silverwings teaching, still feared the youngling, but couldn't just murder him with the dragon there. Thus, when Basdemar was almost for his warrior's rites Chief Sootscale sent him to scout a forest where some fey were spotted doing mischief. "Don't get discovered, boy. Even if you do, only your pride would be hurt, the fey are harmless. You will be quite safe alone."
Basdemar went into the forest and fairly soon found luminous sprites flitting in the trees. He carefully (or so he thought) slinked about, counting the fey, already planning how to capture them. So intent was he looking up that he came around the tree face to face with grizzled old boar, Tyrant of the Forest. Which of course snorted and immediately charged.

Basdemar was bowled over, gored, trampled, and prone. His spear went flying aside, his wings twisted uncomfortably underneath him. Before he could get up the boar was back. Without the ability to dodge, without setting his spear, he did the only thing he could possibly do. He grabbed the great head and even as it gored him again he did something he never before did. He BIT under its snout as the tusks came up bloody. He latched with both arms and [i]rent[i]. As the animal recoiled he used its greater mass to lift him up. Standing his full height (still well under great beast shoulders, but face to face with it), dripping blood and gore he spread his arms, flared his crest and wings, and roared. Wary now, combatants eyes each other and slowly, carefully parted ways both bloodied, but alive.

Basdemar returned, weak from the blood loss. But recognized as warrior and full member of the tribe now. He still wears the scars, one great line across the belly and a couple of the smaller ones on both legs. The next time he and Mikmek sparred, he surprised the elder by a reckless charge and ending with teeth over his throat. Mikmek chuckled and pushed him away "Well done, young warrior. It may be time to see the world." Mikmek took him to the human town, introduced him to many humans (too many). The boy was tutored, used as backup eyes in Mikmeks hidden dealings or as bodyguard easily underestimated by the underworld. But mostly, he was left to fend for himself. Soon there was a kind of reputation on him. As an illegal arena fighter. As stealthy bodyguard. As an honorable caravan guard. He did what he could, not everyone would deal with a kobold. And occasionally Mikmek still had tasks for him.