This large kobold stands nearly 3ft tall and towers above his clan-mates. His scales glisten like aged bronze in the moonlight. More impressive still is the large, snarling dog that growls to protect its master
At nearly 3ft, Gritt stands head and shoulders above his fellow Sootscale tribesman. His muscular, black scaled body shines like aged copper in the mine-light. His long, kobold jowl is scarred by the many tests of dormancy within the dire weasel pack. Over his scales, Gritt wears leather armor and a loin cloth studded with bits of iron; reconstructed horse’s barding looted from a long ago raid.
Gritt thinks more like the animals he trains than a true kobold. Like a weasel, Gritt is territorial, feral, vicious, and loyal to the pack. He considers any threat against his fellow Sootscales as a direct and personal challenge. A challenge met with tooth, claw, and spear. He is the alpha of the beasts he trains and, sometimes, this causes him to forget his place among kobolds; thus he becomes frustrated with other scalekin don’t follow his commands.
BACKGROUND:
Down in the caverns where the race of the dragons dwell, underneath and unseen by those who live in the light, hidden by the shadow’s shadow, there was a hatchery with hundreds of eggs. Each egg was the same size and shape, but, the kobolds that nurtured the unborn flock could identify the talents of the kobold within with a single glance. One such egg, an egg just like the rest, was designated to be a future minor by the lizard-like midwives for, they could tell that the kobold within was bound to be small and strong - the perfect size to fit in the tiny tunnels that made up the kobold mines.
However, when the egg started to crack, and teeth and claws tore at the shell from within, out hatched a kobold twice the size of his fellow brood. The midwives, quickly ratifying their mistake, gave the youngling a new designation: death. Like so many others that failed their life-given task, the hatchling was taken and thrust down into the deep pits of the dire weasels. But, the young kobold was too large to be eaten by the kits and its scales too strong for adults. And, so, this young kobold, abandoned for death, was raised by the vicious and violent dire weasels.
As the seasons passed, Gritt, for that is what the hatchling came to be called, grew into one of the strongest kobolds of the tribe. He was so large that he had trouble fitting into most tunnels, and so, spent most of his time in the larger weasel dens. Eventually, Gritt became the undisputed alpha male of the weasel pack and the same kobolds that left him for dead relied on Gritt to train their mounts that allowed the nightly patrols to keep the caverns safe from those that whished the tribe harm.
Now, by the clearing across the river, the number of scale-less had been growing, and, soon these uncivilized brutes collected their might, and their greed, and attacked the noble Sootscale tribe. Spells and arrows flue across the battle-line as Gritt and his dire weasels charged the ranks of their foes. But, their defense was not enough for many kobolds and weasels died; their blood returned to the dragons that bore them countless generations ago.
Gritt and few other kobolds survived the attack; fewer weasels still able to serve the Sootscales. With the tribe lacking defense, Gritt is more than happy to take the attack to the scales. Besides, it will be good training for the kits in his charge as they feed and grow strong on the flesh of his those that brought chaos to the kobolds.
