Armor Class:
Notes to DM:

Any significant personal items:
One emotion to describe your character:
One emotion your character invokes on others:
Three things your character hold sacred:
Three things your character is ideologically opposed to:
Three of your character’s particular preferences:
Three of your character’s dislikes:
Three of your character’s strongest opinions:
Three of your character quirks:
Three fears you character has:


How old is your character?
He is believed to be 22 but he isn’t totally sure since he never knew his parents.

Are your parents still alive?
He doesn’t know, they sold him into slavery as a baby.

If one or both of your parents are dead when and how did they die?
He doesn’t know if they are alive or dead but they are dead to him emotionally since they sold him.

Who raised you after your parents died?
Otass Bronzetankard, a dwarfen smithy in a mining settlement.

Do you have any siblings?
Not sure, if he does they were probably enslaved too.

Have any of them died?

If any siblings have died how did they die?

What do your siblings do?

Is your character married?
He has sworn himself to a life of celibacy.

Does your character have children?

What social class is your character from?
Slavery but he has made his way to a Cleric for Kkona.

How has their upbringing affected their world view?
He is very dwarfen like-minded (loves treasure and battle etc.), hates Drow with a passion, firm believer and follower of Kkona, detests those that have addictions because he sees addictions as a form of voluntary slavery and those that choose to be there are weak and feeble-minded.

How did your character get started in their chosen class?
He was taken under the wing of dwarfen cleric of Kkona that would put him on his crusade.

Does your character have any heroes or inspirational figures?
The dwarfen cleric that rescued him.

Does your character have any significant personal items?
Only the brand on his shoulder that calls him a “heretic” in the Drowish language. He finds it to be a term of endearment and anything that pisses the Drow off pleases him.

Is your character religious?
Follower of Kkona.

Is your character guided by a prophecy?
Every day he prays for guidance from Kkona to know what he is to do next.

What is your character’s view on magic?
Magic that is considered light or neutral in nature is fine but anything that can be considered evil is a threat that should be destroyed.

Has your character ever served in the military?
No, but he has received vigorous training from a Kkonic cleric in the art of war.

Has your character ever been arrested? What for?
Being a heretic (considered so by the Drow) and for murder.

How did your character meet his current adventuring companions?
He was put on the same boat, heading for a penal colony.

Has your character ever crossed anyone?
Not in that way but he is very likely to murder prisoners that have surrendered to him because of past experiences.

Does your character have any enemies?

What are your character’s goals in life?
To finally receive word from Kkona and to find out what is mission is.

How important is the accumulation of wealth?
It is a desire that he learned from his original master and one that the kkonic cleric unfortunately could not undo.

If your character died tomorrow what would they be remembered for?
His religious fervor and brutal lack of mercy for his foes.

Where did your character learn or train their skills?
He became strong working for a smithy and he learned how to be a cleric from the dwarfen cleric that saved him.

If one emotion could be used to describe your character what would it be?

What emotion does your character invoke on others?
Hopefully one of inspiration but his methods in combat are likely to lose him trust among allies.

What does your character need most?
Acknowledgement from Kkona.

When did your character grow up?
in his late teens when his master, Otass hit him with his hammer and left him for dead.

How does your character dress?
In white, weathered robes with golden highlights. Covered in pieces of scale armor. He wears leather sandals and has leather shin armor. His hood is almost never off of his head.

What is your characters comfort zone?
The moment before a battle when he has the advantage to plan out his move.

What are the first things someone notices when they first interact with your character?
the fact that he will almost never set his hammer down and that he acts and talks more like a dwarf than like a human.

What does your character sound like?
He has a gruff, drawfen accent that he learned from his master.

How does your character want to die?
Surrounded by companions as he kills hordes of demons inside of their plane.

Name three things your character holds sacred
His book of Kkona’s wisdom that is tied to his hip by a heavy chain, innocence and Kkona himself.

Name 3 things your character is ideologically opposed to
Addictions of any kind, slavery and dark magic.

Name 3 things your character likes for no reason other than preference
His beard, combat and a large fortune.

Name your characters three strongest opinions
That Kkona is the one true diety, that all Drow should be destroyed, and his parents must have been terrible people.

Name three unexpected things about the way your character behaves
He often falls asleep with his hammer still strongly clutched in his hand, He may be a holy cleric but he doesn’t believe in having honor in combat and he is more likely to trust a dwarf, gnome or halfing over a human.

Name three fears your character has
Kkona never acknowledging him, Spiders and his nickname “Leech”

Biography of the Cleric of Kkona known as “Krawlsworth” from his childhood to when he was detained and deported to the Isles of Anzu:

First off let’s get something straight; “Krawlsworth” is not the cleric’s name. Actually, it would be more accurate to say that the cleric does not have a name because for as long as he can remember he was always a slave and was refused any proper title. He was sold into the service of a dwarfen smithy by the name of Otass Bronzetankard. The two of them lived in a rather small dwarfen cavern in the side of Cresque Mt. located in Sun-Bleached Dunes, where they would repair broken pickaxes and shoddy wagon wheels of the town’s miners. It was a meagre living and Otass wasn’t the kindest master but he must have been better than his own parents, or at least he hoped so. While he was never given a formal name Otass would refer to him as “leech” whenever he screwed up in the forge; which was a lot. Any dwarf that got close to Bronzetankard’s Smithy could often hear the commotion:
“Oh you cooled the metal too fast again ye stupid slave! I took pity on you when your poor pathetic father begged me to buy you and this is how you repay me? By eating my food and drinking my water and making a mockery of my business?! You’re nothing but a leech! Now try it again, Leech! Before I take your head off with this here hammer.”
It wasn’t leech’s fault for getting in trouble; he was a decent smith. The problem was he was a human boy trying to smith up to a dwarf’s standards and in reality he would never be good enough. In the end it didn’t matter too much because Otass’ temper was the least of his or the settlements worries.
Usually the creation of a new mine and settlement is a long process because of the time it takes to evaluate a potential spot. Scouts are supposed to check the integrity of a cavern, its location in relation to other settlements and threats and the types of minerals that can be mined. The scouts that were sent to Cresque Mt. were in a bit of a rush to get it approved once they found the iron and silver veins that spanned most of the cavern and cut their evaluation short. Not long after the settlement was built and the mine was running it became brutally apparent that the settlement was built essentially right next to a Drow city. The only thing that separated the two was one of the cavern walls that acts similar to that of a picket fence between neighbors. The dwarfs were attacked by Drow and any and all resisters were massacred in the streets. Rather than destroying everyone and everything they decided that it would be more profitable to have the dwarfs mine the ores and then take it from them for use in their own city.
So for years the dwarfs were forced to meet quotas of their overbearing masters without hope of freedom. Sure, the dwarfs could have sent a messenger for help to one of the main dwarfen cities but you see, a dwarf’s whole life is dedicated to his families name and honor and building a mining town right next to an obvious threat is an embarrassment so tremendous that none of the dwarfs even dared to search for help.
Despite his dwarfen heritage, Leech was still human and never truly understood honor or its importance (this can also be attributed to the fact that he was a slave and honor is not something he has ever had). After three years of oppression the slave confronted Otass on why they did not go for help or fight back. After much arguing Otass began beating Leech over and over again until he was on the ground, spitting blood and gasping for air.
“Yer just a slave, Leech! That is all you will ever be!” Otass yelled at Leeched.
The dwarf turned around and began banging on iron with a hammer and prepping it for the fire when the slave made his remark:
“I’m not the only slave in this room.”
Before he could make another gasp for air Otass turned around and brought the hammer down across Leech’s face.
Nothing but dark followed.
The slave boy would later wake up with a severe concussion pounding against the side of his head while he laid in a trash heap in the sand on the surface in the scorching sun. Otass had thrown him out and left him to die. With his new found sense of freedom Leech began making his way directly north towards a long plateau in the distance. From memory he remembered that the main dwarf city that his settlement had broken off from was located there. Dragging his feet and holding his head he began to walk; unsure how far away it actually was. Through the searing heat he walked until the sun set and he took a quick rest before he began to talk through the rest of the night. He continued to walk even when the next day came and he didn’t stop even when he found shade. He continued with nothing other the plateau put firmly in his mind. Eventually he collapsed from dehydration and heat stroke and lay in the sand even as it burned his skin and accepted the death that he was sure would come. He again passed out and there was nothing but darkness.
He later woke up in a bed confused and with a headache that rivaled the pain of his concussion. He grimaced as he lay there unsure of his current situation. He would later learn that he was in a hospital in the city of Grimoire, the dwarfen city he was trying to get to. He was told that a cleric found him in the sand and had carried him to safety in the city. When he was finally considered healthy enough to leave he asked where he could find the cleric so that he may thank him. The doctor gave him directions to the inn that he said he would be staying and Leech went off to meet his savior.
Through some rough negotiation of the foreign streets he eventually found the inn and made his way inside. Going door to door after the attendant refused to help him, he asked each dwarf if they were a cleric. After being denied several times he found the right room and met his savior.
The dwarf was wearing white robes with gold trimming and scale armor and was glad to see that Leech was alive. He began to tell the cleric everything. How he had been a slave to the Drow overlords to him being thrown out of the mine into the dessert above. The Cleric listened intently and then asked him what he was going to do now that he was free. He opened his mouth to speak but stopped and sat there dumbly. Entirely unsure of what he was going to do with himself. The Dwarf almost reading his thoughts (or lack of) and asked him if he would like to come with him and become a disciple of Kkona. Leech wasn’t entirely sure what any of it meant but he was sure it was better than his life prior and accepted graciously and eagerly.
They slept in the inn for the night and afterwards began to purchase food and other supplies. Leech asked the cleric where they were going that they would need so much supplies. The cleric responded that they were going to begin training immediately and there was a small oasis in the dessert that they would live at for the next couple of months without disturbance from others.
The walk there was relatively short compared to his last experience and a whole lot less life threatening. Once in the shade of the trees near the fresh water spring the cleric began to explain what it meant to be a cleric of Kkona:
“We are few and far between but that does not bother us. Kkona is considered a small and powerless god compared to the others but this is not the case. He only appears this way because he is not as vocal as the other deities. He is just as powerful as the others if not more so, he just doesn’t waste his time on those he considers a waste of his time. The purpose of a Kkonic cleric is less about creating a flock or cult of followers but more about becoming one of Kkona’s Justicars. In order to become a Justicar you must do mighty deeds and tasks in the name of Kkona and eventually Kkona will realize he cannot ignore your skill or commitment and will finally speak to you. When he speaks to a Cleric they become a Justicar and it becomes their mission to act out his spoken will. That is our purpose.”
When the cleric was done he looked at Leech questioningly ready for any questions that he may have. After sitting for a moment he finally asked the cleric what his name was. The cleric smiled and told him that it was Krawlsworth. Krawlsworth than asked the boy what his name was and was surprised when he responded that it was Leech. He asked him if that was his actual name and the former slave said no but that is all he had ever been called. After some thought Krawlsworth told the boy that Leech was no fitting name for a cleric and he had the choice to change it to something else. Leech thought it over and told the cleric that he would only choose a new name once he believed that he had earned that right. Krawlsworth nodded and then waited for any other questions but the former slave just asked when they would begin.
Training began with the weapon of choice of the Kkona clerics: a warhammer. Leech asked him why a hammer was the chosen weapon. Why not a sword? A weapon that was able to cut and be swing fast sounded a lot more useful. The cleric explained that a sword may appear more useful but a warhammer is superior because of its ability to smash through armor. He also pointed out that a sword would take forever to kill a large beast or monster but almost all creatures will go once their skull is crushed in.
So they trained for months in the way of the warhammer. Only stopping to make supply runs back into the city and then they would train for months longer. Soon months turned into years as the delved out of just warhammers and into the use of clerical casting. Over the years Krawlsworth helped teach Leech how to make his own cleric robes and scale armor. After nearly 5 years of training the cleric told the now 20 year old man leech that he had taught him everything that he could.
Now it was time for a mission in the name of Kkona, the cleric told Leech. Leech quickly said that he already had one in mind and had been thinking about it since almost the first day that they had begun training. He wanted to go back to his original settlement and wage war on the Drow that abused his people. Krawlsworth agreed that there were not many more important missions than the one at hand and they began their march back to the settlement Leech once knew.
Despite Leech’s transformation from a boy into a highly trained warrior he still felt like a slave as he walked the streets he once walked with Otass. Leech wasn’t the only one that had changed either. The Drow now occupied the settlement rather than just extorting it for mining resources. Monstrous spiders could be seen skittering along the walls and ceiling of the cavern and the Dwarfs were at the mercy of the Drow as they prowled along the streets and rooftops. Krawlsworth and Leech were careful to keep themselves hidden among the masses and their weapons concealed at all times; the Drow would likely not respond well to two well-armed guests. As they patrolled the streets gathering information of the Drow numbers and locations, Leech recognized the smithy that he once worked at and saw that it was nothing but a rotten wreck. He was able to gather from a passerby that the Drow watched as Otass dragged Leech out of the smithy and dumped him out of the city into the dessert, which wasn’t a problem. The problem was when Leech got up and began making his way directly to the main dwarfen city. The Drow took this as a sign that Otass was using the slave to get help and they destroyed his home and smithy as punishment. They also wanted to execute him but he was able to escape into the dessert before he could be captured. The Drow were furious and made the rest of the settlement pay in place of Otass and they killed and burned randomly and without mercy through the settlement until they were satisfied. Leech knew it wasn’t his fault that the dwarfs were punished but that didn’t make it any easier to hear that so many were killed because of his choices.
Krawlsworth and Leech decided to take advantage of the abandoned smithy and used it as base camp for their mission. They would go on to take part in guerilla warfare against the Drow at every turn. Patrols were ambushed, provisions poisoned, munitions destroyed and religious statues of Lolth desecrated and destroyed. Their plans to overthrow the Drow and free the Dwarfs relied heavily on the Dwarfs themselves rising up and rebelling but all actions to start a revolution were either lackluster or impossible to orchestrate. The Dwarfs had been slaves themselves for simply too long. This did not discourage the clerics. In fact, it invigorated their efforts because only a true quest would gain the attention of Kkona. So they continued their mission. Constantly harassing and murdering what Drow they could find. The Drow tried furiously to get the Dwarfs to turn over the clerics to no avail. The Dwarfs may not have had any fight left in them but they certainly were not snitches and would not betray those trying to aid them. For a while, the clerics thought that if the Dwarfs wouldn’t turn them in then their certainly was enough spirit left in them to kick a revolution into effect. Maybe they would have too.
If it didn’t go all to hell, instead.
The clerics were on a routine hit and run on a patrol in the middle of the night in the streets. They had done it many times with no issues but they never considered the fact that the Drow would adapt to their tactics. Within moments of engaging the patrol one released a magical flair high into the cavern above and reinforcements began making their way onto their position. The Drow began swarming on their position but even then they were no match for the mighty clerics as they battled in the streets. Then Leech made his mistake. Leech was battling several Drow alone by himself and took them down one by one in quick succession until only one remained. He raised his hammer to deal the finishing blow when the Drow threw down his weapons and got on the floor and begged for his life. He hesitated over the Drow and looked back to Krawlsworth who was still severely outnumbered and need of help. He raised his hammer again to finish the Drow to aid his companion but could not get himself to do it. Instead he pointed his hammer at the Drow and made gestures to stay down and rushed to the aid of Krawlsworth. Leech dashed down the street to his comrade and began batting away assailants and smiting his foes trying to make his way through the horde to his teacher and savior. Then it happened. Leech watched as three poison darts suddenly found their mark in Krawlsworth’s neck. Leech whirled around to find the sniper and saw the Drow that had surrendered to him, still on the ground, laughing and holding his blow gun. Leech turned back to Krawlsworth to try to make his way to him but there were too many. The Drow took advantage of the cleric’s weakened state and tore him apart with their weaponry. Leech was sent into a berserker’s rage and began to furiously attack those around him with no discipline or fear for his own life and began to make his way back to the assassin. He made it maybe a quarter of the way there before one of the Drow’s bladed spiders jumped from a nearby rooftop and sunk its blades into Leech’s back and arms. It didn’t take long before the pain and spider venom sent him into shock and then a coma.
He would later wake up in a cell based inside of the dwarfen settlement, with his wounds poorly bandaged and a meagre amount of food in the corner. On the closer inspection he noticed that the food was completely infested with spiders. In fact, everything in the cell was covered and crawling with spiders. At least they weren’t the kind the size of people, Leech reasoned. It didn’t help. He spent the next several days locked up and would with what little strength he had heal his wounds. The Drow would constantly mock him whenever he did. They made it clear that it was a waste fixing his wounds, unless he could also fix a decapitated head as well. So that it explained it. They wanted a public execution for the one that had been making their lives miserable. Leech didn’t care anymore. He had gotten his teacher killed, as far as he was concerned he deserved to die to make up for that fact.
The day of the execution they took him out of his cell and placed him on a raised platform in the town square for all the dwarfen settlers to watch as their last hope was crushed. Leech could also see from the intricate armor and pride of some of the Drow around him that they were very high ranking officers. This wasn’t just any execution. This was a big day for the Drow. They were treating it as if they were law enforcement that had finally caught a serial killer that had been killing for 20 years. Leech wished he had been doing it for 20 years. Unfortunately he and Krawlsworth had only spent the last 4 months killing Drow. Clearly not enough time, Leech thought to himself bitterly.
Out of his peripheral he noticed a Drow approaching his left side with something that was smoldering on the end. Before he could attempt to pull himself away he found himself being held down as the brand was put to his left shoulder the Drow labeled him a heretic in their language. Leech fought through the pain as best he could. Then they began with the execution and a Drow approached with a heavy axe. No, not just any Drow. The one that had surrendered to Leech and then killed Krawlsworth. This was his reward for catching one of the clerics and killing the other. Leech fought furiously against the chains for a chance to get at the bastard but they held firm. The Drow around him laughed at his display of defiance. Leech looked into the crowd of Dwarfs hoping that they would rise up against their common enemy but they just watched with glazed over eyes and mute expressions. The Assassin Drow raised the axe well over Leech’s head and held it there. Leech stopped fighting and waited for death to arrive.
What a despicable display for a cleric!
Leech looked around frantically trying to figure out where the voice had come from but there was no sign of the speaker.
I ought to let you die there for such lack of courage or ferocity…
The axe began coming down for the cleric’s neck.
…But I won’t.
In that moment a brilliant explosion of radiant light burst around Leech shattering the axe and vaporizing the Drow closest to him. Everyone outside of the blast were forced to cover their eyes from the harsh change in lighting as sparks flew past them. Leech slightly dazed but with a new sense of urgency broke the now weakened chains and burst into a sprint for the surface. Drow attempted to chase him down but all that got near him would suddenly burst with light and flames into nothingness. The Drow eventually learned that for whatever reason the cleric was untouchable and they begrudgingly allowed him to escape.
Once on the surface Leech began calling out to his savior.
In case you haven’t caught on. I am not near you. I am not near anyone. I am Kkona and you are a disgrace of a cleric. You not only managed to get your trainer killed through incompetence but also allowed yourself get put in a situation where you would have perished as well. Krawlsworth may not have been Justicar material but he was close and you stole that from him. I only saved you because I didn’t find it wise to allow for two of my clerics to be killed in such a short window. This will be the only time I ever help you. You are on your own now and while you are still a cleric I have no personal wish to speak to you again. Maybe one day you will gain my favor and reach the rank of Justicar but that will not likely happen now or decades from now. Be grateful I have been as lenient as I have.
With that the voice left. Never to speak another word to him. Leech would later become maddened with the message he had received from Kkona. Depressed and bitter he would push on however making his way city from city looking for work that might appease Kkona but nothing came remotely close. It wasn’t until he received word of a penal colony on an island full of dark and evil influences did he believe that he had found a proper calling. He made his way to a local constable and pleaded guilty to murder. He was arrested and later interrogated and he would go only as far to say that he had killed a cleric. He then asked the officers if they could get him sent to the penal colony to server out his days for his crime. Normally officers would have scoffed at such a demand and rejected it but since he came to them claiming he was a murderer and there was no body, weapon or motive to actually convict him; they agreed to the sentence.
While signing out of the forms for his departure they asked him what his name was. He began to say it was Leech until he stopped himself. He thought long and hard back to the conversation he had with Krawlsworth when he had told him that Leech was no fitting name and he decided it was time he chose a name for himself. Impatient, the officer demanded to know his name. The cleric looked up and told him that his name was Krawlsworth.
That day he was loaded onto a ship headed for the isles full. He noticed that there were several unique characters on the ship ranging from a Halfling to a rather deformed man to even a tiger and several other odd beings. As Krawlsworth was locked into place for the long journey he prayed to Kkona that this journey would be his redemption. The cleric was exhausted and began to fall asleep against the wall. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or it really happened but right as he fell asleep he could almost swear he heard someone say something to him…
Good luck.


Isles of Anzu legrandhaugen Krawlsworth