Zahk'rii Kreinkun's page

Zahk'rii Kreinkun
Male, LG, Dragonborn Fighter 1
Init +1; Senses: Darkvision 60', Perception -1

Defense
AC 22 ; Touch 12 ; Flat Footed 20 (6 armor, 1 Dex, 2 heavy shield, 2 natural, 1 dodge)
Hit Points: 13 (1d10 + 3)
Saving Throws:
Fort +4; 2 Base, 2 Con
Ref +1; 0 Base, 1 Dex
Will -1 0 Base, -1 Wis
Special Defenses: +1 on Saves vs Fear

Offense
Speed: 30ft. , 20ft. armored

Melee
Masterwork Scimitar +5 (1d6 + 3 / 18-20 x2) or
Masterwork Scimitar +4 (1d6 + 3 / 18-20 x2) using Combat Expertise or
Tail +4 (1d8 + 3 / x2) or
Tail +3 (1d8 + 3 / x2) using Combat Expertise or
Masterwork Scimitar +5 (1d6 + 3 / 18-20 x2) and Tail -1 (1d8 + 1 / x2) or
Masterwork Scimitar +4 (1d6 + 3 / 18-20 x2) and Tail -2 (1d8 + 1 / x2) using Combat Expertise

Ranged
Chakram +2 (1d8 +3 / x2) or
Chakram +1 (1d8 +3 / x2) using Combat Expertise

Special Attacks: Combat Expertise(-1 to hit, +1 to AC)

Statistics
Str 14+2 Dex 15-2 Con 14 Int 13 Wis 8 Cha 12+2
Base Attack: +1; CMB: +4; CMD: 15
Feats: Dodge, Combat Expertise
Traits Merciful Scimitar(Combat), Extremely Fashionable(Diplomacy)(Equipment), Pirate Booty(Social)
Drawbacks: Hedonistic, Power Hungry
Skills: (3/level) Diplomacy +7, Intimidate +9, Bluff +7
Background Skills: (2/Level): Profession(Sailor) +3, Craft(Sewing) +5

Languages: Common, Draconic, Orcish
Class Abilities Feats
Racial Abilities: Dragon Traits, Improved Natural Armor, Intimidating Pressence, Slapping Tail
Favored Class: Fighter(Hit Points 1)
Gear: Chainmail, Masterwork Scimitar, Heavy Wooden Shield, Chakram(5)
Other Gear: Silver Flask Holy Symbol, Paladin's Kit(Masterwork Backpack, a bedroll, a belt pouch, candles (10), a flint and steel, amess kit, rope, soap, and a waterskin), Small Tent, Collapsible Bathtub, Stuffed Tarrasque toy
Outfits and Add-ons: Fancy Outfit with Decorative Trim, Pocketed Scarf, Pirate Hat, Reversible Cloak, Ruby Brooch, Pocket Watch
Extremely Fashionable Counter: Outfit 75 gp with Decorative Trim 25 gp + Hat 25 gp + Scarf 8 gp + Cloak 25 gp + Brooch 20 gp = 178 gp worth of classy clothes and jewels
Food: Trail rations (10 days), Chocolate(4)
Beverages: Flask of Absinthe(2), Bottle of Grog(2), Flask Oldlaw Whiskey(2), Bottle of Sealord Wine
Spare Money: 130 gp 9 sp

Carrying Capacity: 86/173/260
Carried Weight: ~150

Standing at 7'2" Zahk'rii is tall even by dragonborn standards. His scales are a bright scarlet which under the sunlight seems to shine on their own, and for merely dramatic reasons Zahk'rii tries to polish them as frequently as he can.
His eyes the colour of coal, no matter the expression of his dragon-like face, they seem like laughing. And indeed they are, as long ago Zahk left his pretention to take life seriously.

"A true man's worth is measured by his honour, his skill and his courage... but not everyone can see that, and that's why jewelry and fancy clothing was invented." Saltmouth once told him, and Zahk'rii lives by that creed.

His clothes are of black and scarlet rich silk, embroidened with silver and complete with trims on his sleeves the like you would see on a courtesan or a noble's courier. A scarf with hidden pockets always decorates his neck and he simply refuses to remove his pirate hat: black fabric with golden embroidery, topped by a Roc's feather... and a gift that Saltmouth gave him when they parted ways.
Zahk has always loved cloaks since an early age, specially those that you can turn around to change your style. The one he now wears is black silken on one side and scarlet leather on the other. He keeps it on its place with a silver brooch depicting a dragon's head, with tiny rubies as its eyes.

Despite all those clothes and accessories that would made some nobles turn green of envy, Zahk's three most loved possesions are his sword, his stuffed tarrasque and his watch.

The sword was the one he took from the bandit leader that enslaved him a jeweled yet elegant scimitar with a lionhead pommel. This sword has helped him stay alive for years and he trusts it as much as he trust his eyes or his swordarm.
His stuffed Tarrasque is weary from the years, but Zahk's has been maintaining it, sewing its seams and keeping it "alive".
Finally his pocket watch. Made of silver and steel by crafty gnomish hands, Zahk carries it mostly because it's a symbol of fanciness and exotic origin, as he usually doesn't need to know what time is it.

After a life of constant changes, twists and surprises others would have adopted a no-nonsense serious attitude. But not Zhak'rii Kreinkun.
His motto is and has always been "Roll with it". Be it punches, slavery or divine revelations, he simply tries to adapt to the situation to preserve what passes for sanity inside his draconic head.
This dragonborn favours action over thinking, being quickly to enter action and showing the kind of reckless bravery you usually find on the mad, the stupid and the ones that know death comes to them. Except when there are heights, as he is deadly afraid of them.

Knowing full well how life can be a big tiring practical joke, Zahk has a hard time taking anything but the most pressing matters seriously.
His outlook on life and past experiences has left him feeling a tad bit disconnected to others, as he has never had a constant family around him. This leads to him being aloof and sitant, even a bit cold at moments.

Then there's the fact of his birth and later on his encounter wit the priests. Is he really worth all that attention and praise? Zahk doubts he is or that his skill matches what others believe of him.

Many are the men, elves, dwarves and others than claim their life isn't like no other... but in truth they mostly boast, fearing that being too normal would take away part of what makes them special.
Others are content with how their upbringing went and go on with their lives.
Then there's Zahk'rii, to whom life means a series of strange events followed by adventures and mystery. Zahk'rii has always wondered how would have been his life if he was a simple farmer, like his father was.

Little is known about his early years, mostly what he yells in crowded inns late at night, when the casks run dry and the weary return home. If we were to believe his words, Zahk was born in an evil temple dedicated to an even more evil god, the Tyrant.
Only Bahamuth knows what happened that night, but whatever it was, their parents didn't give much importance as their lives continued afterwards.

Hailing from the Bright Lands, they lived among their tribe: the Kreinkun. His father, Ashkar, was a succesful warrior who retired as a farmer later on his days. He still maintained a strong friendship with Rek'niet, a strong and charismatic warlord, leader of the Kreinkun and one of the warchiefs among the Scaled Legion.

You might now be wondering, what is the Scaled Legion? Well, the correct question would be 'what WAS the Scaled Legion?' as they were driven, broken and subjugated by Rary and Robilar's armies during the years following the Greyhawk Wars. But before their disband and demise, they were a powerful horde that controlled the Bright Lands. A group of dragonborn tribes that were unified when the Scaled Legion leader, Sshapph Ironscale, defeated the rest of warchiefs one by one.

But enough of History Lessons, as Zahk'rii and his family are what concern us. Not the most close knit of families, Zahk grew among other six siblings whose names he doesn't remember anymore, some of them were older and had their occupations on the tribe and the rest were mere hatchlings who needed continuous care.
As it is, the only family he had until his adolescence was a stuffed Tarrasque that his father gifted him.

His childhood went without much incident -if we ignore the part regarding his birth- until one day when he was ten years old. Sshapph Ironscale was visiting the Kreinkun with his entourage and honor guard to watch the training troops and take his tithes when Zahk was playing outdoors. He met Sshapph firstborn -Khaz Ironscale- and to his surprise, they were both almost identical in appearance save minor details. They spent the whole day together, and Zahk would never see Khaz or his father again for almost a decade.

The day he would see the Ironscale again was soon after his fourteenth birthday. Scaled Legion's couriers roamed the countryland without explaining their reason, and the moment they saw Zahk, they grabbed him and rode away.

It was later explain to him -or to better put it, he managed to figure it out- that Sshapph heir had fled without warning, and given their likeness the couriers believed that Zahk was him.
By this point in his life, Zahk had already grow weary of his family ignoring each other and focusing on their respective tasks, works and obligations, and decided to roll with it.

For five years he lived surrounded by luxuries, the best mentors Sshapph could pay and, surprising given that the Scaled Legion leader was basically a huge half-dragon with anger issues, more kindness and attention that he could have wished for. He even managed to keep his stuffed Tarrasque.

But this ruse couldn't be maintained forever, and luck -or the Gods themselves- willed it over: The day he was to be married to one of the tribes' chiefess, Sshapph's heir returned. During the ensuing confusion, Zahk escaped, knowing that he could very well better be dead than getting caught after lying to the whole Scaled Legion for five whole years.

He rode for days, stopping only when he was to exhausted to even stand. When he awoke -days later- the Gods, once again, surprised him with a turn of events: bandits. As if bandits weren't an unpleasant surprise to find just after waking up, still tired and unarmed these were of the slaver-happy kind. Zahk'rii found himself gagged, chained and on his way to the worst possible future -only notably worse futures to slavery being: slavery in Hell itself and slavery to a mad Archmage-.

And would you, dear reader, find this a painful turn of events? Indeed you are, except the turn is yet to come...
As he was aboard a ship, headed to Bahamuth knows where to be sold as a slave, another ship came into view. One of considerable larger size and sporting a black flag. Zahk had never seen or heard of pirates, but he knew a chance when he saw it and as soon as the battle started used his regained strength to free himself and ambush the bandit's leader -who kindly left his back unguarded against the dragonborn- using his tail to break his spine.
Armed now with the bandit's weapon, Zahk fought his way to the main deck, where he found the remaining bandits dead or dying and a merry band of flamboyant and strangely dressed pirates. "I will rather die than become enslaved again!" yelled Zahk as he waved his newfoun blade at the first pirate that tried to get near him.

Luckily for him, Captain Saltmouth had never seen a dragonborn, but had heard of them. A man of impeccable manners, bloodthirsty methods and expensive tastes, he found Zahk'rii both interesting and defiant, and most important of all: willing to die for his own freedom. Zahk didn't understand what Saltmouth meant with joining him at first as the escape, capture and travel had taken a toll off his stamina, but when he did understand the dragonborn was quick to accept.

See, most people consider pirates terrible beings. Men and women decided to stab others for gold, alcohol and glory. But most people fail to see that the very same definition could be said of most adventurers, soldiers and even some heroes. The difference is the required amount of gold, alcohol and glory necessary to sprin them into action.
And among pirates, there are some better than others. Saltmouth, for example, wasn't the most evil of his kind. A human mercenary that turned rogue when the noble he was working for tried to send him and his men on a suicide mission, Saltmouth lived following a simple code: If you want something, take it. Except freedom, freedom is the only thing that should never be taken away.

During his years under Saltmouth's leadership Zahk'rii learned many a thing: he learned how to fight and how to win, he learned how to sail and how to swim and he learned about his Captain,his companions and, most importantly, about himself.
He learned how delicious chocolate was, too, and how painful eating macadamy was. He even got to see Lord Robilar himself fight once, and was deeply impressed by the "hero's" daring style. He promised to learn it one day and challenge him to prove himself and the world.
And for the first time on his life, Zahk'rii Kreinkun had a goal to call his own.

But all things good come to an end, and one day came when Saltmouth decided to retire. The now old Captain had took a liking to Zahk'rii, and knowing that whoever substituted him would probably not be so kind as himself, adviced the dragonborn to disembark and look for his own way of life.

Zahk paid heed to Saltmouth words and soon found himself travelling to the Free City of Greyhawk's gates, decided to start where Robilar was deemed a hero years ago. During his travel there Zahk'rii discovered that life had one last surprise for now: as he braved the coasts of Wooly Bay, a group of priests started following him. For ten days they simply kept his pace and a healthy distance, and Zahk'rii paid no attention to them -as it wasn't uncommon for groups to travel to Greyhawk and he thought his imposing figure gave them some sense of security- but after the fifteen day he started noticing strange habits.
The priests semt to look at him with a little bit too much intensity from afar -he swore they used to be further away before-, shortening the distance at which they followed him by the day and he was almost sure that during the dusk of the fifteenth day they were praying towards him.
He didn't have to wonder what they were up to for much time, as they finally approached him during the dawn of the third week.
When the visibly excited priests finally spoke, Zahk'rii bursted into laughter. Him, a dragonborn who was sure life was a series of practical jokes played by the Gods, a reincarnation of a one of their deity's greatest heroes? The priests sure have took him for a fool and were trying to scam or mock him, and as such he dismissed their zealous readings of their holy book and kept walking towards his destination.
But after a month of the priests tailing him and now surely praying to him, he was pretty sure the group really meant what they said even if to him it sounded as complete b%#@%@#$. And it freaked him out.

Decided to lose them, Zahk once again rolled with it. "Accepting" his fate as reincarnated messiah, the dragonborn made camp with them one night. The priests were in such a great mood that decided a feast was in order, and after drinking a single cup of wine each, they all passed out.
To the untrained eye, the priests sure never had drank wine before. To the trained eye there was something more. To Zahk's eye, these priests had never gotten their wines spiked with absinthe.

After making sure the surroundings were safe -he didn't want the priests annoying him, but neither was he going to leave them to get eaten, killed or worse to free himself of the hassle- the dragonborn left.

Only a month more of travelling and Greyhawk's walls were in front of him.
Surely, things couldn't go but up from there.

Total: 400 Exp
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