Vrol Graywound

Vrol is a scrappy Kobold, no more than 2 feet tall. His redish brown scales blend in well with the dark leather vest he wears, though usually this is covered with a light tan hooded cloak. Various belts and straps adorn his small frame with unnamed bottles and clay orbs fastened to them. He carries with him a battered leather pouch, full of various tools and components. Slung over his back and protruding well above his frame is an old refurbished flintlock rifle, though one that seems more suited to someone more human sized. At the end a sharpened strip of metal is attached, forming a rather effective bayonet. A strip of iron also runs down the underside of the weapon, either as a way to strengthen the frame or perhaps even for use as a way to block incoming attacks without damaging the rifle itself.
At a young age, Vrol was the adventurous sort, not content with digging and serving the scaled gods of old. He respected them, surely and would never question the scaled lords, but he always felt there was more to life than servitude. Fate, as it would seem, agreed with him and while out searching for supplies to bring back to the den, he heard a loud crack that felt like it shattered the very sky. He immediately looked to find the source of this noise and came across a small human village being attacked by large ship. Another crack rattled out and large bright flashes and plumes of smoke wafted from the jaws of steel creatures mounted to the deck. Moments later, entire buildings in the town collapsed, being felled almost instantly. Vrol was in awe. He wanted this power. If he could harness it, he could be as powerful as a dragon himself. He waited patiently for the battle to end, and for the humans and other large creatures on the ship to finish what they were there to do. Once the dust settled he decided to investigate and found one of the pirates who had been killed in the fight. Lying next to him was a large staff, but one that was nothing like Vrol had ever seen. After a moment of examination, he noticed something that looked like a switch, and being the curious sort, pulled it. What happened next set off a chain of events that would change the course of Vrol's life forever. The rifle discharged, nearly deafening the small kobold and knocking him flat on his scaly behind. Most creatures would have panicked and fled at this point, but Vrol? Vrol just smiled. This was power. And now it was his.

Reckless and excitable, he discovered his love for bombs and things that go boom when he watched a ship firing its cannons as a child. His alignment is chaotic neutral. He is also sneaky and gets most of his bomb-making materials by less than legal means.

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Affiliations:

Faye Wacholder
Zagros, Painter of Magnificence
Tiklall the Redeemed
Torinn Drakk-Zhar

Age

8

Gender

Male

Eyes

Yellow

Skin Tone/Pigmentation

Rust

Height

2 ft

Weight

27 lbs