I play a Nwn RP server named Arelith, my Kobold is a rather venerable being of 50+, almost 60 years, though his draconic blood - while not powerful enough to gift him the strength of a true Dragonwrought - at least seems to have staved his age's degradation for now.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Of course at this time in history his physique has long since been anywhere near the norm' for a Kobold. His blood fueling growth combined with his only real duty of large scale mining and excavation during his early years before full adulthood let him originally amass a well muscles body, peaking the greatest one could truly gain in net strength - Of course his taste for the simple pleasures in life for sanity's sake never let himself become /too/ sculpted so to speak.

Eventually his mining work came to a self wrought end, and his life became heavily sedentary. While he could upkeep his strength with day to day activities - The speed at which his metabolism kept through rigorous effort no longer supported his heavy love of fine foods and spirits, a love he kept well satisfied with cooking skills gained through trial and error over a decade or so.

Years passed, both time and pounds building beneath the reptilian's belt so to speak. Throughout as well was sparked his new found loved for the arcane studies. While his blood provided him a body, if kept premium, befit for the greatest warrior of his race - It did not gift him the innate prowess of the magics abound noted for his kind.

Time would continue, as well would his amassing of both knowledge and weight. A school of magic tickled his fancy - Transmutation. The act of converting material from one shape to another. The possibilities fathomed were pleasing to the odd mentality this pleasure oriented reptilian beget, and so he perused such - Enacting change after change after subtle change to himself; Each another gleeful delight to the growing beast.

Heavily endowed skeletal and muscular physiology, a keen sculptor's touch to his beloved and husky frame, and his most prideful transmutation - The meek, rat like tail of his kin bolstered into something a blue dragon would nod in approval of. So he stands, risen up to the high of his kin around two below three feet. His weight, startling, even for his monstrous size - desperately striving for that two hundred mark. He can only continue to fathom what else he might 'improve'.

---

Such is the progression of this character. From his start in adulthood as a level one fighter with 14 str, to the sedentary arcanist chef hefting stew pots twice his size with 18 strength. Greater should he actually employ his transmutative skills actively.