Quill and Compass, Entry 18: Kobolds
To write of the peoples of Gaiaxia is to accept a monumental responsibility. The history written into the pages of these entries is a record of lives lived by those that came before; shaped by hunger, weather, fear, ingenuity, hope, and the stubborn will to endure through the endless march of time. I do not pretend that my words can fully capture them, but I believe the attempt is what matters. Knowledge, after all, is one of the few things we can pass forward without diminishing its value. And so, I begin this series where mortal history itself first found its footing through the most unlikely, underestimated, and overlooked species that has endured longer than any other: the humble Kobold.
Kobolds were here long before any other, emerging during the Age of Dragons and born where a Dragoness' egg lay unfertilized, Draconic magic itself rushing to fill the void. The result was not another Dragon, but something far smaller, leaner, and infinitely more numerous. Each such egg hatched into a Kobold, bearing the unmistakable lineage of her mother in miniature: scale color, horn shape, fins, ridges, teeth, tails, and claws. Curiously, all Kobolds are female, and when they lay their eggs, whether having mated or not, those eggs likewise hatch into Kobolds, each generation a continuation of its mother’s lineage. Their hind legs remain unmistakably draconic: stout, powerful, and digitigrade, well-suited for springing, climbing, and sudden bursts of speed. Their forelimbs bear clawed hands capable of gripping and manipulating with remarkable dexterity. A Kobold may stand upright to speak, trade, or work, then drop fluidly to all fours and scurry with startling agility. This pattern has held true across every generation since their inception. Their small stature has caused many to underestimate them. I've found this to be the first and most reliable mistake outsiders make.
Kobolds mature quickly, physically reaching adulthood in little more than a decade. They live long lives by mortal standards, potentially spanning four centuries, though age leaves its marks. Scales dull, frills erode, horns crack and weather, shedding slows. Time does not spare them, but neither does it diminish them entirely. Age among Kobolds rarely brings frailty; a Kobold well into its third century is nearly as spry as one just entering its first. What age does bring about is experience and perspective. Elder Kobolds are respected not because they command obedience or fear, but because they have survived long enough to know what works, what doesn't, and how to best serve their clan.
Unlike their Draconic progenitors, Kobolds do not thrive alone. Dragons endure through overwhelming individual power whereas Kobolds endure through the clan. From the earliest warrens to modern enclaves nestled within great cities, the Kobold ethos has remained remarkably consistent through a simple proverb taught to them the moment they can walk: each sister carries a share, so none must carry alone. Leadership is earned through competence, contribution, and reliability. A Kobold who cannot be trusted to do her part will not lead, no matter how loud her voice or sharp her claws. Authority is fluid, pragmatic, and always subject to challenge by better ideas or better execution.
This philosophy extends to nearly every aspect of Kobold life, including their hoards. Like Dragons, Kobolds hoard instinctively, but where a Dragon’s hoard is often personal and possessive, a Kobold hoard is communal. Food, tools, raw materials, crafted goods, curios, and records of shared history are kept together and fiercely protected. They do occasionally also hoard baubles, trinkets, and "shinies" in a small personal collection with some influence from their mother's hoarding tendencies; but from my observations, the clan always comes first. To lose part of the hoard is to endanger everyone. When a Kobold dies, her belongings are not entombed or burned. They are instead redistributed, given new purpose among those she leaves behind. I once witnessed a warren dividing a fallen sister’s tools with quiet reverence, each item placed into hands that could use it best. There were no speeches. No tears. Only the unspoken understanding that her contribution would not end with her life.
Kobolds were also among the first to truly understand trade. Long before minted coin or standardized weights, early Kobold trade routes spanned across enormous territory, linking Dragon lands, nomadic camps, and fledgling settlements. They favored bartering with dragon scales of every hue, not as currency in the modern sense, but as tokens of value and utility. The innate magic within those scales made them invaluable. Red scales could spark fire or cauterize wounds. Silver cooled air and preserved food. Green soothed infection and aided healing. Each scale carried purpose, and purpose gave them worth. It was through this trade that Kobolds made a discovery that would shape Gaiaxia's entire future. The bones of Dragons, over time, calcify into precious metals and gemstones: Gold, silver, copper, diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and opals. What we now covet as wealth were, to Kobolds, simply another byproduct of Draconic existence. They were among the first to recognize that these materials held consistent value across early cultures. From that realization grew the earliest standardized tokens of trade, the ancestors of the coins we now pass so casually from hand to hand.
In our modern age, Kobolds are nearly everywhere, though rarely in positions of obvious power. I have found them in workshops hunched over delicate mechanisms, in market stalls weighing goods with an appraiser’s eye, in archive vaults where memory is guarded more fiercely than gold, and in the spaces between guilds and nations where information changes hands long before swords ever do. Kobolds become indispensable before most realize they were ever newcomers at all. Their minds are sharp, honed by generations of survival through ingenuity rather than brute strength, and they are accustomed to thinking around problems rather than through them. Where others see a wall, a Kobold looks for cracks, leverage, or a way to turn the obstacle into something that can be used. It is a quiet kind of power, easily overlooked, and all the more effective for it.
Their relationship with Dragons remains complex to say the least. Some Dragons cherish their Kobold daughters as legacies or emissaries. Others view them as nuisances or shameful reminders of their own failures. A few will kill them outright. Kobolds learn early which skies are safe and which are not; they adapt, relocate, and survive, as they always have.
If the Age of Dragons taught Gaiaxia what power looks like, then Kobolds taught it what persistence looks like. Small, adaptable, and indispensable, they laid foundations long before anyone thought to name them. To study mortal history without understanding Kobolds is to begin a story halfway through and wonder why the ending feels unearned. They were here first. And in many ways, we are still walking roads they built.
May we remember who laid the stones before we learned to walk upon them,
Yours, ever truly,
— Tobias Elanor, Bard, Scholar, Explorer Extraordinaire
© DracTheDrake
Hello hello!
In full honesty, for the longest time, I thought I'd be starting this series of entries with the Valkaz, our Giants, since I wanted to write chronologically about the different mortal species of the world. I actually started writing the entry for them, then, just like in the entry, I remembered the humble Kobold.
Building them into Gaiaxia was another fun experience. How does a creature as small as a Kobold, barely a few feet in height. survive and even thrive in a world of Dragons, Giants, and other monstrous beasts? How did they endure all the way to the modern age? Honestly, kinda the same way Humans survived through the ages into our own modern times: brains over brawn and copious amounts of teamwork.
Thank you for reading through entry 18, and apologies for abruptly taking a week off, life got a bit hectic, but I'm back in the saddle and ready to see you in entry 19!