Tyran'kai Rotscale

Afflicted Scoundrel


Medium natural humanoid (reptilian) | Level 5

Speed: 30 ft. Swampwalk Normal Vision
Strength: 17 Dexterity: 15 Intelligence: 8
Toughness: 15 Perception: 11 Spirit: 10
Hit Points: 24 Heroic Surges: 8 Mana: 0 Stamina: 2
Fortitude: 13 Reflex: 12 Will: 10 AR: 1

Blackscale Lizardfolk Traits
Marine Adaptation, Prehensile Tail, Reptilian Frenzy, Reptilian Fury

Unarmed, Leather, 6 others

Climb, Intimidate, Perception, Stealth, Survival, Swim; Common, Draconic

Tyran’kai’s horrific visage and bloodthirsty demeanor terrify local populaces. As such, he can get away with minor criminal offenses.

Can use Berserker’s Rage by spending a heroic surge

Martial Artist

Nimble Climb, Tumbling


2 Nets Carnage Dagger
Giant Hook 50 ft of Silk Rope
3 pts of Oil Common Lantern
5 days of Rations 20 lb Barrel of Mangoes
1.25 lb of Salt 1.25 lb of Sugar
2.5 lb of Flour 1 Silver Bar
5 gp, 2 sp, 3 cp Leather Armor

From the moment he struggled free from his egg, Tyran’kai has known one truth about the nature of the world he inhabits: life is not fair. Stricken during his incubation by a bizarre affliction of his hide and scales, he carried a coat of sickly pale-grey scales splotched with patches of brittle, white, dead ones barely hanging on to knotted and ragged hide beneath, instead of the smooth ebon scales typical of his kind.

Viewed as both a disgusting mongrel and potentially contagious, he was almost immediately exiled from his village. The fact that Tyran’kai ever lived to see adulthood out in the marshy wastes where he spent his early years is a testament to his luck, his cunning, and his bestial, unbridled ferocity. Carefully watching other beasts of the marshes, he learned the value of patience and ambush… as well as many painful lessons about choosing his battles.

These days, Tyran’kai is as horrid to behold as to fight against. His coat of scales is even more revolting, sporting patches of bare hide, half-eaten by whatever malady caused his condition, and half a dozen poorly-healed wounds. The crest running down his neck is tattered and worn, and one side of his face is marred by trio of deep scars. His scales jut out at their edges, making him look vaguely like a diseased crocodile.

While not particularly intelligent or wise by normal standards, Tyran’kai does possess a knack for survival, often at the expense of others. He has scraped a meager living together all his life, and he is good at making do with whatever he can get his claws on. He travels and adventures to survive, as his voracious appetite and horrible visage tend to attract trouble, and he knows better than to linger where he is not wanted too long.

In battle, Tyran’kai likes to approach as stealthily as possible and then hurl himself into a violent, bloody frenzy. His quiet approach allows him to close quickly and bring his formidable strength to bear. To him, concepts like “honor” or “a fair fight” are utterly alien. He has no hesitation toward using tactics others might consider cowardly or dirty if it tips the odds in his favor. To him, the only dishonor is death, and anyone who does not use every trick at their disposal deserves it.

Tyran'kai Rotscale

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