Name: Krik
Gender: Male
Race: Black-scale Kobold
Age: 14 (18 in human years)
Alignment: True Neutral
Class: Bard
Power Rating: D
Description: The most dashing a Kobold can be, Krik is an albino black-scale kobold, being dark brown instead of tar-colored; his eyes being yellow as opposed to bright green. He wears a smaller and more toned-down version of the average bard's regalia - a drab beige cloth shirt partially covered by chainmail, and a short pair of tattered dark gray trousers that stop at the knees. He wears foot wraps instead of shoes, he hates the feeling of them (not to mention most shoes wouldn't fit him anyway). His height is 2'8" and weighs 37 pounds.
Personality: Krik is young, even in kobold standards, and wants to experience everything the world has to offer. He's very curious, straightforward and naive, but is empathic and kind to most people. If someone critiques his music, he gets VERY cross with them, sometimes even following that person back to their house so he can steal some of their possessions while they sleep.
Equipment: A small dagger enchanted with acid, which he calls a sword, and a tiny wooden buckler which he calls a bulwark. Both descriptions are essentially true to one of his size. His instrument of choice is a small fifteen-stringed wooden lute of unknown origins, it's rather uninteresting save for an engraving of Krik's head on the lute's backside.
Abilities: As a blackscaled kobold, Krik can move around in swamps and water at his regular running speed, and can spit out about an ounce of acid once per day. He can imitate any voice in many languages (being fluent in fourteen of them), and can shatter fragile objects (glass, thin walls, ears) using various chord combinations on his lute. Even with his well-spokenness he still refers to himself in the third person, regardless of language.
Backstory: As an albino, Krik was estranged by his tribe and left to fend for himself from birth. He survived alone in the swamps until the age of four (somehow) when he stumbled across a city he didn't bother to learn the name of. He picked up a lute, started messing around with it, and within about a year he was skilled enough to make a living for himself by playing in the local tavern every night. One day, a group of adventurers staying in the tavern asked him to come along with them on their quest for... whatever, as they needed a bard to assist them. Krik graciously agreed. The other adventurers were slaughtered within a week, but Krik found his way to the Nexus somehow.