Kragdor's page

Step 1: Write 5 background and concept elements that you feel are important to your image of the character. These can be a concept overview, a list of important life events, a physical description, a personality profile...whatever you need to get an image in your mind. 5 is just a minimum...more elements are encouraged!
* He is a former high priest of a dragon, turned apostate, a former Lizardfolk king after killing the last one. This ended poorly.
* Generally he is diplomatic and reasonable, preferring to calmly talk through problems.
* However, the threat of violence is always beneath the surface. And he can go from polite conversation to eating someone’s face in the blink of an eye.
* While he understands emotions and the needs of others, he sees other living creatures as good as much as they are people.
* He values his personal freedom above all else. He has slowly come to understand that this has come at a great cost to others, but he doesn’t truly feel guilt over that. This could change in sigil though, given the new environment and people.

Step 2: List at least two goals for the character. At least one of these goals should be one that the character has, while another should be one that you, as a player, want to see developed over the course of the game.
* He wants to figure out what he truly wants. At the moment he is still figuring sigil out and is getting used to the idea of not being tied down by his past.
* Friendship. He’s never had it before. His entire life was spent as part of a cult where he wasn’t seen as an individual, and as a brutal warlord. I’d like to see character growth in that regard.

Step 3: List at least two secrets about your character. One is a secret the character knows, one is a secret that involves him but that he is not actually aware of yet. This will help me in creating plots that center around your character. I will also be creating a third secret which you as a player will not be aware of, so expect some surprises!
* That before gaining his mythic power he was an average Lizardfolk Shaman. Given how much he relies on his strength, he finds this to be a shameful secret.
* His mythic power is predicated upon consuming the souls of dozens of sentient creatures with class levels (Lizardfolk shamans, prisoners of war) and the red dragon’s own eggs. This is similar to Cazador’s ritual in BG3.
* Tying the two together: he knows that it is ‘wrong’ to have done what he did, but his fear of losing his power is greater than his guilt. He’d rationalizes that it is no different than eating a person, even though deep down he knows that it is far worse.

Step 4: Describe at least three people that are tied to the character. Two of them are friendly to the character, one is hostile. If you like, you can include an enemy of yours here as well, so I have an instant NPC nemesis to throw at you
* Lars: Meat merchant and butcher of questionable repute. Loud, boisterous, and always happy to take Kragdor’s jink. Introduced him to alcohol.
* Ulcaster: Dustman. Point of contact for selling bodies (ie: food that won’t stay good). Has unsuccessfully tried to convert Kragdor. Is aware of the dragon cult and has theories about his nature and thus has taken an interest in converting him to solve the issue of his existence.
* Barking Wildman gang lord. After Kragdor ate his gang he became obsessed with the idea that if he can eat Kragdor he will gain his strength. This has, thus far, led to a steady source of food for the Lizardfolk. Though he has begun to learn the joys of cooking his food (a welcome change of pace!)

Step 5: Describe three memories, mannerisms, or quirks that your character has. They don't have to be elaborate, but they should provide some context and flavor.
* Watching the shaman who raised him (for he was taken at birth from his parents) be eaten by the dragon they worshipped upon his death. This was seen as a great honor, but at the time it felt more traumatic.
* He wears trophies taken from enemies who impress him as a way of honoring them.
* He continues to wear clothing from his tribe. Not because he cares about them, but because other people seem to like how ‘exotic’ he looks and it is good business.

Lizardfolk are not known for being long lived. In Kragdor’s tribe, there was one notable exception to this rule: those born with wings. For these rare Lizardfolk, they were destined to be inducted into the role of a shaman, or more specifically, a servant to a red dragon whose lair was on the tribal lands of the Lizardfolk. He was raised within the lair, and as per their traditions, he did not leave. He trained day and night to master the element of fire, as a way of devotion towards his draconic overlord. He waited hand and foot, watching as his elders grew old and died, slowly rising through the ranks. And through it all he came to an unhappy conclusion: their lord and master was no god. The dragon was flesh and blood like any other, and the dragon? It cared not for them. The prayers he said tasted like ash in his mouth, and as each day wore on he yearned to leave the lair. To see the open sky. To actually use his wings. But he knew that to do so would invite death. So he waited. And he plotted.

The dragon had set a plan in motion many centuries ago. It was a ritual that would ‘ascend’ the dragon. To bring mythical power down upon it, to make it much more akin to the god it pretended to be. But to do so, he needed his priesthood. He needed his shamans. He needed their sacrifice. And the shamans? They were by and large ecstatic, for they were promised paradise in the next life. But Trogdor? He was not so willing. And due to his high position, he knew enough to change the ritual. For the dragon, in its hubris, had never thought of how his worshipers who had spent so many generations venerating it, might prove unfaithful.

The day of the ritual came, and the chanting began. One by one the shamans died, all moisture sucked from their bodies and the withered corpses fell to the ground. This repeated again and again, each shaman dying, until only Torgdor was left. The dragon, confused as to why it did not feel any different, could only look at the last shaman, wondering why it was suddenly so much larger than before…

Red Dragon

Initiative: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20

Rnd 1
Ref v Crush: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Crush: 2d8 + 15 ⇒ (3, 2) + 15 = 20

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (13) + 19 = 32
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (1) + 27 = 28
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (1) + 27 = 28
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Bite: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (12) + 19 = 31
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (8) + 27 = 35
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Total Damage and Healing: 28 + 28 + 35 = 91

Rnd 2

bite +25 (2d8+15), 2 claws +25 (2d6+10), 2 wings +23 (1d8+5), tail slap +23 (2d6+15)

Bite: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (17) + 25 = 42
Damage: 2d8 + 15 ⇒ (5, 4) + 15 = 24

Mythic point spent mirror dodge. Teleporting 15ft away

Claw: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (7) + 25 = 32
Damage: 2d6 + 10 ⇒ (1, 3) + 10 = 14

Tail: 1d20 + 23 ⇒ (17) + 23 = 40
Damage: 2d6 + 13 ⇒ (6, 3) + 13 = 22

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (16) + 19 = 35
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (1) + 27 = 28
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Total Damage: 91 + 28 = 119

The dragon leapt at the last shaman, expecting the ritual to work upon his death. To his shock all that this brought was pain. With tooth and claw Kragdor attacked his erstwhile lord. Blood liberally flowed, and the dragon turned to bite down upon the Lizardfolk. In what would have been a flurry of attacks that would turn any mortal into a red mist, the shaman suddenly vanished into a cloud of smoke, appearing behind the wyrm.

Breath Weapon: 12d10 - 20 ⇒ (7, 3, 9, 4, 7, 4, 4, 9, 4, 4, 4, 8) - 20 = 47

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (1) + 19 = 20
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (3) + 27 = 30
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (11) + 19 = 30
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (7) + 27 = 34
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Bite: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (6) + 19 = 25
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (4) + 27 = 31
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Kragdor at 13 wounds

Bite: 1d20 + 25 ⇒ (6) + 25 = 31
Damage: 2d8 + 15 ⇒ (1, 7) + 15 = 23

Mythic point spent to teleport away after first hit. Another mythic point for an extra standard action. Warp sphere to teleport in and then full attack

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (19) + 19 = 38
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (6) + 27 = 33
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Claw: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (13) + 19 = 32
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (3) + 27 = 30
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 5

Bite: 1d20 + 19 ⇒ (9) + 19 = 28
Damage: 1d8 + 27 ⇒ (8) + 27 = 35
Fire: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Kragdor fully healed. Dragon at 182

The dragon let loose its breath, filling the lair with flame. Never before had a living creature survived. Fear gripped its heart as it turned to flee, not fully understanding what sort of power it had imbued the shaman with. Kragdor opened his wings and charged after it, chasing after the wyrm.

For the first time in living memory, the Lizardfolk saw their deity directly. Covered in gaping wounds it took to the air, flying away from a single Lizardfolk. One who was winged, unnaturally large, and covered in the blood of a ‘god.’

What came thereafter was anything but stability. Trogdor challenged the chieftain of the tribe and tore him asunder, taking all within the territory for himself. Finally ‘free’ he used his newfound strength to consolidate power, killing or driving out any who dared oppose him. The following territorial conquests were initially successful, until unexpected resistance was met when the gug tribes banded together. While Kragdor was individually unassailable, his subjects were not. He found himself rushing from battle to battle, only for an increasingly diverse coalition to enemies to attack once he was no longer present. All territorial gains were lost and then his territory began to shrink. The lizardfolk started deserting, which in turn led to a full collapse. It was not until the wars had reached their bloody end that Kragdor learned that the Draconic overlord he had failed to finish off had orchestrated his downfall, using its millennia of experience to gain its revenge on the former priest. But vengeance was beyond him, as the wyrm did not wish to repeat Kragdor’s mistake. Driven by a multitude of foes, up to and including members of his own tribe, Kragdor soon found that it was impossible to find even a place to rest. And through it all, the shadow of the dragon loomed high in the sky, never coming down to fight but always remaining ever present. Whenever he flew up to attack it would retreat, but it would always return. Refusing to give up on his home, Kragdor was slowly whittled down. His many, many enemies turned to hit and run tactics, knowing how he could steal the life of others. He, in turn, used what he had learned as a shaman to burn all that they hid in, leaving the core of his kingdom as a burn out wreckage. Days went by with Kragdor unable to sleep, until exhausted, he was finally forced to flee. And then, that was when the dragon struck.

Forced to flee, it became abundantly clear that the skies were not safe, now was the swamp or marshlands. In desperation he dove underwater, seeking to escape his pursuers. He had been a high ranking priest. He had been a king. And soon, it seemed, he would be dead. Diving deep, he went through a knot of roots…and found himself in Sigil. For Sigil is the city of doors, and anything can be a door and anything can be a key. Kragdor had well and truly lost his kingdom. But he was free, in a way that he could only dream of when he was a servant-priest in his lord’s lair. And with that freedom he had to find a way to survive in a truly alien ‘world’ and from there to discover what it truly was that he sought.