Baschrek Tymodes

My star is on the rise - you will soon learn to fear my power.




Baschrek Tymodes enlisted in the Lance Defenders, Tymanther’s primary military organization, not out of a sense of civic duty or patriotic pride, but merely to quell the incessant urgings of his dear old uncle. The fortress-city of Djerad Thymar was bland and stifling, and Basch had grown weary of the noise of it all. Despite his initial misgivings, he was somewhat relieved to be part of something bigger than himself, to be defending his displaced nation from ogres and cultists and such.

However, after touring his people’s adopted state, waging skirmish after skirmish against the giants and goblinoids of the region, Baschrek came to the conclusion that the martial life that had so quickly claimed his father and brothers was lacking in the glory that his uncle and many of his elders spoke so proudly of. Drudging through the rain and sweltering sun for payment small in copper and large in risk did not sit well with young Basch, and he longed for his term of service to end. This opportunity came to him not long after his first year as a Defender had come to a close.

While patrolling the southern reaches of Tymanther, Basch’s squad encountered a band of hill giants in the process of waylaying a merchant caravan – it was a long struggle, but Basch prevailed over the giant’s leader, the last defender standing after a gruelling and bloody encounter…at least, that’s the story he told when he had returned to Djerad Thymar. In actuality, many of Basch’s men had fallen under his own fire – during the battle, he had been overcome with a great and uncontrollable power.

He had discovered the Art. In a fury of flame and ice and thunder, Baschrek had torn through both his comrades and the battle-wearied giants with little regard for friend or foe. In the end of it all, when he came to his senses, Basch was ashamed and horrified by his actions. Ashamed… but exhilarated. Such power he had never known, dancing across his fingertips at his slightest whim. Basch had heard of the powerful magic of men and elves, but tedious hours of training and memorization were required long before such fantastic results manifested – Basch, however, wielded such power by birthright, like the haughty dragons who dared enslave his people so many years ago.

Being lauded as a hero upon returning home only served to bolster his already dangerously-inflated sense of self-worth. After living in Djerad Thymar for a few more months, Basch’s high spirits began to wane. His feats had become overshadowed by the accomplishments of fellow dragonborn who had set out beyond the horizon and returned with great treasure and tales of adventure. Baschreck had decided where his fate now lay: beyond the Sea of Fallen Stars, in the kingdom of Cormyr. It was there, he had heard, that brave men and women were being sponsored by the king to delve into the land’s murky forests and expunge the monstrous taint within in exchange for wealth and glory.

Setting out by boat during the winter thaw, Baschrek joined a group of corsairs who ran odd “jobs” along the Dragoncoast and outlying regions. After a year of sailing around the Sea of Fallen Stars, Basch’s natural charm and enthusiasm for the pirating profession led to his promotion to captain of his small vessel. Basch was an inspiring leader and bore a commanding presence, but was plagued by a lack of foresight and tactical ability, which eventually led to him being literally keelhauled by his disgruntled crew and left floating in the northern reaches of the Inner Sea.

Days later Basch was found washed up on the shore by a somber procession of refugees from demon-cursed Impiltur, who were kind enough to escort him to Uthmere. This is where he finds himself now, searching for the means to spread his name throughout the realm.

Baschrek Tymodes

Uthmere Slamdarius