Ex-kobold warrior, in plain linen pants and a small, weary grin on his muzzle.



Tiktaalik, Tik, or Tik Tak is the larger twin brother of Draselth. Consigned to rearing and training the clan’s dire weasels, Tik grew to love the animals he was left alone to care for after the death of the elderly stablehand. With his great size and strength, he never could understand why the elders chose to shift him – of all kobolds – from the mines; he preferred to ignore the hushed whispers of “too big” and “strange scales”. But he didn’t mind the solitude and escape from the frenetic buzz of the tunnels. The weasels kept him company, especially Mo – the little runt he’d rescued from the stew-pot.

So too did his picture books. When the last stablehand caught a young Tik trying to ride a weasel like one of the warriors for the first time, the leathered old kobold had simply hushed Tik’s stammered apologies and pressed the tattered volumes into his arms with a knowing smile. The old cripple, who’d been a warrior himself in his prime, taught Tik what he could of the spear and sword – a serious crime, for elders had not chosen for the young kobold to follow that path. Tik shared these forbidden treasures with only one other: his brother, Draselth. Together they dreamed of the tales of knightly honour and chivalry, adventure, and quests for lady love. They aspired to be just like the heroes in the human stories, scuttling away to the quiet sancturary of the stables to practice with rusty old weapons. But as Draselth ascended through the ranks of the clergy he began to urge Tik to hide the books away, begging him to bury their shameful secret forever, before the books were discovered and incurred the wrath of the elders. Tik loved his brother dearly, but couldn’t accept his pleas.

In spite of his misgivings, Draselth was just as fascinated by the humans and their stories. Neither of them could fully accept the elders’ dogma, for how could such “evil” and “barbaric” creatures weave such wonderful tales? They both thought the same odious, heretical thoughts: perhaps the elders were wrong, just a little. But it hurt, the way the Good and Just knights were always humans or elves or dwarves, slaying the evil goblins and dragons and… kobolds. Why should this be so? Why could they never be the heroes?

So, after many moons of careful planning, they set out from the warrens. Hoping to find and see a human village for themselves, and be back home before sunrise.

Character sheet: http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.php?sheetid=781956


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