Three-Tail's character sheet

The sixth monthly character sheet has been made. Three-Tail, better known as the Three-Tailed Rat, is the star of the show this time around.  This sheet, along with an NSFW version thereof, can be found on the website over at http://www.koboldadventure.com/charsheet/index.html#rat

A bunch of typos have been fixed, and the version number has been increased to 2.475 (Ratsheet). Three-Tail's backstory is well over 3000 words long. As I mentioned previously, it is two days late, because I didn't want to overwork myself. Here is the SFW story, which doesn't differ all too much from the NSFW one, apart from a few key words. Enjoy!

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Part one: Freaks

Three-Tail the rat, nowadays better known as the Three-Tailed Rat, is the leader of the largest somewhat-organized crime ring in all of Varanar, comprised entirely of kobolds. Unimaginatively called the Three-Tailed Rat Clan, they run large-scale thieving and pickpocketing operations, as well as an extensive extortion racket, spreading far beyond the confines of the city walls.

How did a poor rodent boy rise to become one of the most influential figures in the capital of humans? It all started when he was little. Three-Tail was born into a large family of genetically-defunct rats. Aeons of inbreeding had culminated in his generation, leading to wild mutations of an unpredictable nature. As his many siblings, such as One-Eye, Four-Ears, No-Groin and Six-Toes could attest to, none were winners of the gene-pool lottery. Some of them had brain issues, others were constantly wracked with disease, several were unable to speak, and a few were completely deaf. A miserable lot, but their parents loved them all the same.

Fully functional, apart from the trait that earned him his name, Three-Tail got the better end of things. From an early age onwards, he showed a cunning and intellect superior to that of his siblings. He taught his less-gifted brothers and sisters how to play cards, just so he could scam them out of what little possessions they had, by bending the rules when push came to shove. While by no means a blue-blooded dragon, he was one of the few rats in his litter that looked like he might have had what it took to make something of his life, some day.

Being dirt-poor, the family lived in a small shack, in the sprawling slums known as Varanar's kobold district. In their home, there was barely enough room for everyone to rest their heads at night. Sleeping spots on the sparse few dirty, old mattresses they'd scrounged from the trash, were valuable commodities. Lacking the money to buy food for everyone, the kids were sent out from a very young age onwards, to collect and gather whatever they could. For themselves, and for the others. The mammals fit right in with the scaly vermin.

Three-Tail's siblings took to begging, robbing, mooching and panhandling for anything they could take home. The rat himself dabbled in a bit of double-dealing, using his card-trickery to scam tourists out of a few measly coins, never enough to draw the attention of the guards. But the meagre few pieces of gold weren't nearly enough to feed the rest of the family. His less-abled brothers and sisters were dropping like flies. Killed in brawls, arrested by the guards, falling prey to malnourishment, they died in many different ways. Only the strong survived. Natural selection in action.

Part two: Law and order

Less mouths to feed, but also fewer hands to bring home a daily living. After several months of half-legal activity, Three-Tail finally found his true calling. Winning a lockpick in a street-side bet, the rat had a go at burglary. He was a natural at it. Opening the lock took mere seconds, instead of the minutes it took his clumsy siblings. Once inside, he grabbed the most valuable thing he found, and got the hell out. One piece of expensive jewelry was enough to sustain the family for weeks. The rat was hooked.

For a couple of years, Three-Tail's new job kept everyone nice and fed. At first, his siblings were content with no longer being at constant risk of starvation. Over time, however, some of his brothers and sisters grew envy towards the skillful thief. They wanted to be their parents' favorites, or at least prove that they, too, could provide for themselves. Trying to out-do Three-tail, their actions grew ever-more bold and brash and brazen.

As subtlety gave way to competitiveness, more and more ire was drawn to the family of rats. The guards took note. Especially their freshly appointed captain, wanted to put an end to the wave of crime that had washed over the city, as a direct result of a single, rowdy family of rodents. But deploying to the kobold district in full force, was not a decision made lightly. They needed a reason. A cause, more than some loose leads all pointing towards one group of rats.

And this reason was soon provided. One of Three-Tail's brothers got into a fight. Robbery gone bad. A broken bottle was involved. A wealthy human was killed. The guards had their excuse.

An armed detachment strode through the kobold district, stopping right at the doorstep of the family of rats that had terrorized the town for years on end. No more. Armor-clad guards kicked in the door, stormed the small shack en masse. The only ones home were the two oldest of the rodents, their mother and father. The rest were out, doing their daily business. Some of the men wanted to kill the vermin where they stood. The captain insisted they be taken back to the keep, for questioning.

Part three: Lawful murder

Their raided home was turned into a guard-outpost. A sanctuary for men of the law, in the middle of a lawless part of town. A forward base, from which the guards could launch operations into the very heart of the kobold district. With nowhere to return to, the young rats spread throughout the city, unsure of the fate of neither their siblings, nor their parents. They slept on the streets. Before that fateful day, they were trying to prove that they could provide for themselves. Well, now it was time to do or die.

The mother and father of the family were thoroughly interrogated. Torture was not out of the question. But despite everything the lawmen put them through, neither of the rats would squeak. Truth was, they simply didn't know where their murderous child was. But that was not a fact the guards were willing to accept.

The captive rats were dubbed worthless. In broad daylight, they were escorted to the city's largest marketplace. An audience formed, as a pair of crude gallows were erected. Three-Tail, disguised and in hiding, was amongst the crowd. He watched, frozen in place, as a noose was put around his mother's neck. Her eyes locked with his, right before the rope was pulled tight. Her husband struggled against the men that held him, breaking out into tears as life slowly drained from the woman he loved the most. What was even worse, was knowing that he was next.

The people cheered, as the lifeless corpses of the two criminals were lowered back onto the wooden stage. Weeping profusely, their son fled the scene. The next few days, he spent wandering around aimlessly. While still in touch with some of his siblings, life without parents felt empty, and devoid of purpose. His entire existence, up until then, had revolved around providing for the family. With the rodents scattered, and dispersed, he had nothing left to try his hardest for. In all those years of thieving, he had never learned to look out for himself, first and foremost.

Part four: The streets of Varanar

A lesson that Three-Tail would soon be forced to learn. Life on the streets of the kobold district was not easy. Various groups and gangs, more violent than not, ruled the slums. While physically stronger than a single kobold, they never came alone. It was always best to keep a few coins on hand, to pay them off and avoid a beating. They were doing what they had to, in order to survive. A motivation that the rodent himself knew all too well.

A break-in here and there kept Three-Tail fed, and clothed. Most of the money he earned by pawning off valuables, he immediately spent. Carrying too much gold in the slums was a death sentence. A lot of the kobold bandits had no qualms with shanking unruly victims. Even with their new foothold secured, the law had no say here. And without his brothers to back him up, taking a stand against petty criminals was akin to suicide.

Life, however meaningless, continued. The depressed rat went on a spree of burglaries, secretly hoping he'd get caught, and face the same fate his parents did. But was never heard, never seen, and never busted. Three-Tail was too good at what he did. Years of breaking into places out of sheer necessity, had rendered him an expert thief. And turning himself in, would make a mockery out of his parents' sacrifice. They died, not to protect his murderous brother, but to protect all of the rodent siblings. And he would not let their deaths go in vain.

One late night, while prowling through the merchant quarter, looking for a decent place to rob, the rodent suddenly stumbled upon a group of kobolds, huddled up around the front door of a liquor shop. Stocking spirits and drinks from all over the world, the small lizards were undoubtedly looking to score some free booze, in a way that the rat was all too familiar with. However, the lock on this place in particular, was much more intricatethan an ordinary padlock. As such, the gang was unable to pick it properly, and without getting through the door, they had no chance of scoring the drinks they so desired.

Part five: The start of something good

Stealthily, Three-Tail approached the group from behind. Once close enough to appear friendly, yet still out of arm's reach of the potentially dangerous kobolds, the rodent announced his presence. They almost bolted at the sound of his voice, but some quick reassurances that they had nothing to fear, combined with a few non-threatening arm gestures, brought the tiny thieves to a precarious stand-still. They observed, as the rat whipped out his own trusty lockpick, the very same one he had won, all those years ago. He approached the door, and in a matter of seconds, managed to do what the entire group could not: unlock it.

The kobolds stormed in. They plundered, looted, and drank to their heart's content. To Three-Tail, it almost felt like having his siblings around again.Almost. After taking as much booze as they could possibly carry, the group of lizards drunkenly stumbled away into the night. And so, too, did the rodent vanish back into the slums. For the first time since his parents were executed publicly, a smile had formed on his face. He was content, knowing he'd helped make the lives of those little ruffians just a little less agonizing. Once again, the kobold district felt like home.

A few days later, the very same group he'd helped that one fateful night, tracked Three-Tail down. They wanted to know how he did it. How he managed to crack open the lock that had them stumped for over half an hour. A mutually beneficial deal was negotiated. The rodent would teach them how to pick all kinds of locks, and plan robberies out, to prevent them from getting caught. In return, the kobolds would hand over a portion of their loot. Everybody wins.

The training was effective. Within weeks, the small group of kobolds went from being an incompetent band of nobodies, to pulling off one successful heist after the other, all orchestrated by Three-Tail, of course. Their notoriety within the criminal underworld was rapidly rising. As victories mounted, a familiar, familial feeling arose within rat. But things were different, this time. Instead of being the one doing the breaking and entering, he sat back and reaped the spoils of his ceaseless planning. He was the patron, and these lizards, these thieves were his children. His trainees. His friends. His family. His gang.

Part six: The rat's nest

The kobolds, too, were pleased with the results of their cooperation. Their new mammalian friend wasn't strict. He didn't demand a lot, nor did he even bother to check whether or not they were giving him a fair cut of the loot. All he asked for, was a few small trinkets for every venture they went on. A tithe. A small price to pay, for his invaluable services.

Envious of the thieves' success, other gangs flocked to the rat. They, too, wanted to be trained and guided. The family grew. But the newcomers did not know their father as Three-Tail. No, they referred to him, the same way everyone else in the kobold district did. The Three-Tailed Rat. That was how he was addressed. A legend was born.

Small tithes added up. Three-Tail was getting richer with every passing day. He could have easily bought a house in a decent part of town, and with a few years of criminal activity more, he could have retired and lived in wealth for the rest of his life. But no. Escaping the kobold district was never on his mind. Instead, the rodent used his growing wealth to purchase the remains of the ancient, half-sunken coliseum. A remnant of older times. The largest landmark in the slums. His new base of operations.

His group needed a name. Something that would inspire fear and awe in those who heard it. At first, Three-Tail opted for a word in the language of rat-men, to honor his parents, and to remember his rodent roots. His dumb kobold compatriots, however, could barely pronounce the simple phrase, let alone memorize it. Reluctantly, the rat gave in to his underlings' stupidity. Henceforth, the group would be known as the Three-Tailed Rat Clan, which was what everyone was already calling them anyway.

Part seven: Appearance matters

With a change of location, came a change of clothing. No longer directly involved with any break-ins himself, the rat could ditch his simple, dirty linen robe. It was good for sneaking around in, but it didn't command any kind of authority at all. He figured that, if he looked a bit more like the criminals and thugs that he dealt with on a daily basis, perhaps they would come to respect him a bit more. Not that the kobolds valued clothing much. But as their leader, he held himself to a higher standard.

What was little more than a torn sack, was replaced by a far more intimidating garb, tailor-made by the finest craftsmen the city had to offer. Armored leggings, with internal pocket-holes to keep his lockpick and a deck of cards. A mostly exposed chest, traditional for rat-men warriors, with various vials, filled with poison, attached to the straps crossing his torso. A hood, with an assorted mask, which allowed him to blend into a crowd, provided he kept his three tails down. And finally, to finish the look, a large, serrated blade. Sharp. Lethal. Imposing.

Make no mistake. Three-Tail had no intentions whatsoever, of using either the poison, or the knife. They were merely there to make him look like he could assassinate the king and get away with it. While he was probably strong enough overpower an unruly kobold or two, the rat didn't actuallyknow how to fight. Underneath the warlord-drab, he was still the same old thief he always was, more prone to running, than to actually use the fancy tools he showcased to keep his subjects in line. The mask he wore, was really just that. A mask. A way to hide his weakness. To conceal his fear, in the face of danger. It worked.

Part eight: Expansion

A lot of the scattered gangs that made up the extensive criminal side of the kobold district, ended up joining the Clan. Not all of them were thieves, however. Some were common thugs, who used numbers and makeshift weapons to squeeze money out of businesses and passers-by alike. The same kind of people who used to hound Three-Tail, were now working for him. He saw them as a necessary evil. A breed that would always exist. At least now, he could put them on a leash, and somewhat limit the harm they did.

With his tendrils reaching beyond the city limits, the rat found various different uses for the toughest of the lot. He put them to work as security, for his many growing ventures, ranging from legitimate work places for kobolds, to shady drug dens where the latest exotic imports were offered. Others served as bouncers in taverns and inns, who paid protection money, and offered free services in return. A few were employed as debt collectors, hunting down those who couldn't or wouldn't pay their dues. The cellars underneath the coliseum held plenty of room for them.

As the Clan grew, so too did their activities broaden. Slave trade, blackmailing officials, smuggling people, and even assassination, became minor notes in the laundry list of illicit activities Three-Tail was involved in. From his seat in the imperial lodge of the ruined coliseum, where thousands of years ago, emperors sat, he ruled his under-empire of thieves and murderers. But the gang was drawing the ire of the higher ranks of society. History was bound to repeat itself once more.

The captain of the guard, who had ensured the premature end of Three-Tail's previous family, had grown to become the baron of Varanar. He would not tolerate organized crime in his city. At least not without him being in control. But taking action against the Three-Tailed Rat Clan proved hard. The rat's kobolds had dirt on just about every city official there was. Coercing or bribing them to veto any move against the Clan, was an easy matter.

Part nine: The rat in the iron mask

But the baron was never one to do things by the book. If he couldn't go after the rat legally, then he would so without the council's blessing. An ambush was set up. During his daily walk through the kobold district, Three-Tail was kidnapped by a group of armed men. Guards in disguise. They took the rat to his old house, where he had a face-to-face with the ruler of the land.

Three-Tail refused to cooperate. He recognized the face of the baron. Saw the human when he was still the captain of the guard, standing on stage, during the execution of his parents. Not in a million years, would the rodent betray their legacy, by working together with the man who killed them.

The rat declining his generous offer, was unfortunate. While it put a wrench in the baron's plans, his schemes were not foiled entirely. He simply had to improvise. What became of Three-Tail, in the end? No one knows. Some say he still rules the Clan, to this very day. Anyone who dares to claim the opposite, is quickly silenced.

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Up next for Kobold Adventure, is more Night Three! Probably the breaking in route, and then either a poll for what additional things to add to the next update; or I'll just choose something for myself! We'll see. Either way, I'm sure you guys will like some of the things I have planned for that scene in particular. Trust me. You'll see.

Anyway, that's all for now! Character sheet is live, I'll post the NSFW one for patrons in a bit (you can also find it on the character sheets page), and I'll be working on Varanar, Night Three this week. Thank you all for your continued interest in Kobold Adventure, and I'll see you all during the next concert of Mikob Oldson, later this week!