Krask, the Cambion

Bulga Keep has one less prisoner, the world has one more assassin, and the party has three more blood-covered coins.


This Cambionassassin has just recently started to make a name for himself. His skin is a deep red, and if examined, is covered in extremely fine scales. Knobby, bony protrusions line his knuckles and elbows. Gleaming white ram’s horns spiral from his brow, framed by his chin-length black hair. He seems especially fond of the shiny, black lacquered armor he wears, which appears to be of drow craftsmanship.

Arrogant, yet genial. Imposing, yet accommodating. Krask is rather friendly, for a cambion, and seems to have a much stronger drive for companionship than most of his peers. He’s also a little freer with his coin than they tend to be, too.


Like others of his kind, Krask didn’t have a name. He was just a rank and file demon, waiting to get started on his mountain of blood money when the Black Brand accosted and kidnapped him. They questioned, and taunted, him endlessly, but they never quite got around to the torture, hoping that witnessing the treatment of the other prisoners might “soften him up”.

When he was released from his cell, he agreed to help the party. He managed to take down Joachim, though was later sad to learn that he didn’t die. He still managed to earn his first kill, however, when he slit Krask’s dragonic throat. He allowed himself a short moment to savor the sound of his new name, then helped himself to the armory before beating a hasty retreat.

On his way out, he left each member of the party one blood-covered coin and a note that said “Cast me into a fountain and call me Krask.”

Krask, the Cambion

An Age Unbegun: Not Men, but Wolves Eel Eel