K Portrait of Kürbis

Kürbis Kohl

Goliath — Ice Spires

Barbarian — Path of the Storm

7 Level
75 HP
18 AC
40 ft Speed
STR 19 +4
DEX 15 +2
CON 17 +3
INT 9 -1
WIS 10 +0
CHA 13 +1
View full sheet on D&D Beyond
The Ice Spires

Kürbis Kohl was born among a Goliath tribe high in the Ice Spire Mountains. Life there was harsh and unforgiving. From childhood, he learned to climb sheer cliffs, hunt dangerous mountain beasts, and endure storms that would drive most travellers back down the mountain paths.

Among his people, strength was respected above all else, and Kürbis proved himself early as a powerful warrior. When danger threatened his tribe, a fierce battle fury would take hold of him, turning the calm mountain wanderer into a relentless protector.

By the time he was grown, Kürbis had left his tribe behind. He wandered the Ice Spires alone, following the high passes and the frozen trails, lending his strength where it was needed.

One night, that strength was truly tested.

While crossing a remote stretch of the mountains, Kürbis came across a yak folk slavers’ camp. The Yaksha — brutal, cruel, and entirely certain of their dominion over these peaks. He watched from the shadows, taking stock. Among the prisoners, a young Half-elf was preparing a desperate escape.

Kürbis didn’t hesitate. Under cover of darkness, he guided the Half-elf out of the camp and into the frozen wilderness beyond.

The Half-elf’s name was Aric.

They travelled together for a time after that. Kürbis taught him to survive in the frozen wilderness — how to find shelter, read the weather, move through snow without leaving tracks. A bond formed between them, the kind forged by shared danger and mutual respect.

Eventually, on the road through the Silver Marches, they encountered a band of travelling entertainers called the Wanderlust Revue. Aric was drawn to their music. Kürbis could see it in his eyes — the Half-elf had found his people. The farewell was brief. Neither of them was good at goodbyes.

Kürbis continued wandering. Following the road wherever it led, lending his strength to those who needed it.

Kürbis from the Song

Kürbis from the song?

He hadn’t known. He’d had no idea that Aric — Dustin, apparently — had written a song about him. Let alone that it had spread across taverns throughout the realms. That strangers knew his name. That in many taverns, when the ale was flowing and the musicians began to play, there was always someone ready to shout the famous refrain:

"Raise your cups for Kürbis Kohl!"

The song portrayed him as a towering hero who charged into battle with thunderous bagpipes echoing across the mountains while driving back the attackers and saving the helpless bard. As with most bardic tales, the truth had grown larger with every retelling. There had been no bagpipes. No thunderous charge. Just a quiet escape in the dark.

Kürbis himself rarely spoke of that night. Hearing someone else sing about it was strange. Not bad. Just strange.

The Wild Thing

The wild things in the Ice Spires had taught him this. You did not approach. You stood. You waited. You let the place know you were not a threat. And eventually, sometimes, the wild thing came to you.

Most people in his life had not learned this. Most of them moved too much, talked too much, asked too much. He had stopped trying to explain it.

Its breath smelled of meat and feather oil and high cold air. He scratched behind the ear, and it leaned into him.

Strange. Good. He was glad to be up high again.

Something Answered It

Aric had taken the tome from the yak folk's hoard the night they escaped. Kürbis had watched him grab it. Hadn't asked. A man who stole back his own life had earned whatever else his hands could carry.

The tome had stayed on Aric's back for years. Kürbis had seen him reading it on watches. Cast spells on it. Curse it under his breath when the spells did nothing.

Now there was a tinderbox, and the tinderbox had a friend inside it.

Kürbis had caught it on instinct. The metal had been hot and not-hot at the same time, the way a banked fire is. Heavy in a way brass had no right to be. He had tucked it into his belt. He had jumped.

When Dustin came out, blinking, in the wet field — Kürbis had said only what needed saying.

"You can come out now."

And he had thought what he often thought. The bard had carried that tome a long time. Something had finally answered it. He hoped, for Aric's sake, that the something was on their side.

03 The Ballad of Kürbis Kohl 2:58