Name: Jek or Jekzar the Omniscient Blade of Destiny
Race: Kobold
Class: Fighter (Battlemaster) / Future Barbarian
Background: Farmer, but of fungi and mushrooms
Alignment: Chaotic Neutral
Age: 30
Backstory
Jek was born in the clamorous, sprawling tunnels of the Great Warren of Krax'vethar, a labyrinthine network of caverns and passages that housed thousands of kobolds beneath the jagged peaks of the Ashspire Mountains. This warren wasn't just big—it was a thriving, chaotic hive, a testament to kobold ingenuity and devotion, stretching miles underground with chambers for breeding, hoarding, and worship. At its heart loomed the lair of Vorixthandros the Eternal Hoarder, a massive, ancient green dragon whose scales shimmered like corroded emeralds and whose greed knew no bounds. To Jek and his kind, Vorixthandros was more than a ruler—he was a god, his every hiss and growl a divine command etched into their very bones.
From the moment Jek clawed his way out of his egg, surrounded by dozens of wriggling siblings, he knew his place: the warren came first. His life, his desires, his fears—all were insignificant next to the collective. The Great Warren teemed with activity—kobolds scurried through tunnels, hauling glittering treasures, digging new passages, or tending to the dragon's whims. Jek's early years were a blur of tasks assigned by the warren's overseers. He mined veins of gold with tiny, clawed hands until they bled, raided surface caravans under the cover of night, and learned to dodge the boots of bigger creatures. But it was in the fungal grottoes—a vast, humid cavern lit by glowing mushrooms—that Jek found his calling. As a cultivator, he tended to the warren's lifeblood: sprawling patches of fungi and mushrooms that fed the thousands of mouths in Krax'vethar. He took pride in coaxing life from the damp stone, knowing each spore he nurtured kept the warren strong. Even when the air grew thick with rot or cave-ins crushed his kin, Jek remained content. Suffering was just another offering to the warren's survival.
Vorixthandros's presence shaped Jek in ways he barely understood. The dragon demanded tribute—piles of gold, stolen trinkets, and the occasional unlucky adventurer—and his temper was a storm that could flood the tunnels with poison gas. Jek learned to fight not with brute force (a kobold's frame was too frail for that) but with cunning and precision. On raids, he'd feint with a rusty dagger, trip foes with a well-placed tail, or lure them into traps set by his siblings. The dragon's own tactics—his sudden ambushes, his calculated roars—became Jek's teachers. He grew into a Battlemaster without ever hearing the term, a kobold whose survival hinged on quick wits and quicker reflexes. The warren celebrated his successes with chittering praise, and Jek glowed with the knowledge that he served Vorixthandros and Krax'vethar well.
Life in the warren pulsed with a steady rhythm—work, eat, obey—until the day that rhythm broke. Far from the warren, beyond the mountains, a band of dragon hunters cornered Vorixthandros. Their blades and spells ended the Eternal Hoarder's reign, and though Jek was deep in the fungal grottoes when it happened, he felt the loss like a shard of ice in his chest. Every kobold did—a sudden, wrenching emptiness where the dragon's will once thrummed. The Great Warren descended into chaos. Without Vorixthandros, the overseers bickered, factions formed, and tunnels once bustling with purpose echoed with panic. Some kobolds hoarded scraps of the dragon's hoard for themselves; others wailed in despair. Jek, too small and too simple to lead, watched his world unravel. The warren was his life, but a warren without a dragon felt like a body without a heart.
Loyalty drove Jek to act. He couldn't stay in a fractured Krax'vethar, but he couldn't abandon his kin entirely either. Gathering a handful of siblings—those who still trusted his quick thinking—he fled the warren with little more than his cultivator's tools, a battered dagger, and a crude set of instruments he'd carved from mushroom stalks and sinew. Music had been his quiet joy, a way to soothe the warren's endless clamor; now it was all he had left of home. The surface world loomed vast and terrifying, its open skies a stark contrast to the tight, familiar tunnels. Jek's instincts screamed for a new master, a new dragon to serve, to restore the purpose he'd lost. Somewhere out there, he believed, was a force worthy of his blind devotion—a dragon, a warren, or something greater still. Until he found it, he'd survive as he always had: with cunning, loyalty, and the faint hope that his next step would lead him home.
Location: Deep in the mountain range just below Summersfall
The Masters Who Broke Him
For 15 years, Jek stumbled from one horrible leader to another, his low wits making him an easy pawn. His blade served each master, but his mind and soul were warped by their betrayals.
Vaelith the Laughing Thorn
A capricious Archfey found Jek's band lost in the wilds and claimed them as playthings. Jek, too dull to unravel the fey's riddles, obeyed without question, fighting as a warrior in Vaelith's cruel "tournaments"—battling shadows, reflections, or his own siblings.
The fey's magic twisted Jek's mind, filling it with fractured memories and half-heard laughter. He'd wake from dreams of endless tunes, unsure what was real. Vaelith never trained Jek beyond his Battlemaster skills—just used him as a toy, breaking his grasp on reality. One day, the Archfey grew bored, casting them out with a giggle, leaving Jek's thoughts a jumbled mess but his blade still sharp.
Location: The Feywild, near Summersfall
Malzareth the Weaver of Minds
Next came a cruel wizard, Malzareth, who lured Jek's group with promises of greatness. He saw Jek as a simpleton but valued his combat skill. The wizard toyed with Jek's head, forcing him into memory-altering rituals that left him reliving battles he'd never fought or forgetting his siblings' faces.
Malzareth's goal was to unlock hidden potential, to unlock arcane magic to use him as a mage, but Jek's low wits frustrated him. The wizard's magic scrambled Jek's thoughts further, planting arcane echoes he couldn't comprehend. When Malzareth deemed the kobolds failures, he banished them.
Location: A hidden lab-cave between Henrull and Summersfall
Galgaroth the Shadowbound
Jek's final master was Galgaroth, a warlock tyrant who radiated dark power. He saw Jek's blind loyalty and warrior skill as perfect tools. In battle, Jek fought as Galgaroth's champion, his Battlemaster tactics honed to deadly precision under the warlock's command, cutting down foes with ruthless efficiency to protect his master's ambitions.
Galgaroth, ever hungry for power, wasn't content with Jek as a mere servant. He sought to forge him into something greater—a weapon of primal fury. In a hidden sanctum beneath the mountains, Galgaroth subjected Jek to brutal experiments, chaining him within a circle of jagged runes and forcing a concoction of shadow-tainted blood down his throat. The warlock invoked his shadowy patron, channeling its essence into Jek's frail kobold frame. Jek writhed as something feral took root within him—a bestial rage, claws and fangs itching beneath his scales, a hunger for violence he couldn't name. Galgaroth declared it a success, a seed of savagery that would one day bloom, but the power remained locked away, simmering beneath Jek's surface. Too dim to grasp its meaning and too loyal to question, Jek accepted the pain as another test of service. Then one day, the mountain was invaded in overwhelming numbers. Galgaroth fled, teleporting away and abandoning Jek to die amid the chaos. Yet the experiments left their mark—Jek feels the beast within stir faintly still, a growling echo in his blood, waiting for the moment it will break free and claim him.
Location: Deep in the mountains near Ebstide
A Kobold Without a Master
After years of betrayal and broken minds, Jek stood alone—his siblings gone to find a new master, his thoughts a tangle of fey laughter, arcane echoes, and a deep rage to make revenge against his previous masters. He's a Battlemaster, forged by Vorixthandros's lessons, his blade guided by instinct over intellect.
Jek doesn't grasp his potential—or much of anything—with his muddled wits. But for the first time, no master commands him. The whispers in his soul hint at a power he might one day wield—if he can ever figure out what they mean.
How Jek Joins the Resistance
Jek is hungry and scavenging in the forest, smells food—roasted meat coming from a hidden resistance camp. He sneaks closer, drawn by the scent, and tries to steal a chunk of meat from their cookfire. He's caught mid-theft by the surprisingly capable cook, who pins him with a dagger to his throat, demanding to know who he is. Jek, oblivious to the danger, just says, "Hold on let me play you a song and you give me food" and starts tooting his horn loudly, alerting the whole camp while pinned down with a sword to his throat.
What Happens: The noise draws an Andalin scouting patrol that was tracking the resistance, forcing the rebels to break camp and flee. During the chaos, Jek fights alongside them—despite his small size in the heavy chainmail with a greatsword in hand effortlessly charge forward first in line, blow his horn and then swiftly take several of them down. The rest of the resistance looks confused but joins and take out the entire patrol. They all look at Jek impressed by his combat ability despite his idiocy and chooses to vouch for him, arguing he's too dumb to be a spy but useful in a fight.
Why They Keep Him: The resistance sees Jek's martial prowess and realizes his chaotic energy can be a weapon. They decide to keep him as a fighter and distraction, though they assign someone to watch him so he doesn't steal their rations again. Jek, happy to have food and a group, assumes he's found a new warren, even though he isn't sure who the master of this "resistance" is. He barely understands the concept of resistance, but follows along as long as he gets food and is treated decently and this sure beats being with any of his other masters.
Voice Inspiration
Sounds like Popper from Baldur's Gate 3
Progression for Levels, Classes, Feats and Features
Lvl 1 fighter → lvl 1 barbarian → 10 lvls of fighter (feat great weapon master, battlemaster subclass, maneuver evasive footwork, riposte, disarming attack, weapon mastery greatsword, greataxe, maul, feat mage slayer, feat lucky, maneuver bait and switch, precision attack, pushing attack, trip attack) → 1 lvl barbarian → 2 lvls fighter → 1 barbarian (path of the beast subclass) → 6 lvl fighter (alert, constitution improvement, boon feat lvl 20, maneuver lunging attack, parry)
The Fragmented Blade
The power of his broken mind, channeled through his blade.
This greatsword is the embodiment of Jekzar's messy origins, granting him crucial mind defense, powerful tactical aggression, and explosive damage.
Core Features (Level 5)
Shattered Defense (Mind Backlash): When a creature targets Jekzar with a spell that in some way manipulates Jekzar's mind, the creature takes 1d4 Psychic damage due to Jekzar's messed up mind, as they would see into his past horrible experiences. If the creature is concentrating on a spell targeting Jekzar, it must make a concentration saving throw at the beginning of each turn, as it is so horrible trying to be connected to Jekzar's mind. The DC to beat starts at 13, increasing with +2 each turn concentrating on Jekzar.
Level 10: Ascended Combat
Titan's Felling Blow: Once per long rest, Jekzar can choose to invoke this feature on hitting a creature. This attack will deal the maximum possible damage on the weapon dice. This also works on crits.
+1 to hit and on damage