Olp Violet Scales's page

Another egg was hatching. The tiny snout hammered at the inside of the shell, suddenly bursting forth. Short moments later the diminutive reptilian form was wriggling out of the broken shell. The kobolds watching over the eggs that day oohed and aahed. The newest member of the tribe was magnificent. It had a huge maw with large fangs and oversized claws sprouting from it's fingers. The tail was visibly muscular. It would be a true tail terror this one! Yet all of these features were completely overlooked. For growing from the littlest one's back were tiny wings. True blessings of the Blightburn King! This required the immediate presence of the tribe's oracle.

They summoned the venerable shaman to the hatching cave. When the wizened old kobold entered, they parted out of respect for his power. He hobbled up to this apparent miracle and his eyes grew wide. It was as they told him. This was a true dragonborn amongst them. It was a miracle birth. The King of the Blighted Caves had looked down upon his favored children and displayed his favor. Before he officially blessed the newhatched, he called for a candle. They would see it in the light and be assured of it's perfection.

As one of the attendants approached with a candle, the old mystic snatched it away and lit it himself. In the weak light of the taper, he looked upon the tad and nearly choked. It was purple! Purple! A light shade of purple, but purple nonetheless. The spiritual leader hissed at the monstrosity. All good kobolds were born green, like their god, like the glow of his sacred blightburn. They were not born with scales of the lesser kobolds, certainly not with scales of purple! He wracked his brain to remember which of the kobold tribes were purple. He frowned even more deeply. There were none. This wasn't even an abberation delivered through bad blood. This was a heresy! He recoiled from the monstrous creature and hissed at the others, "Get back from it. It is tainted."

At his words most of the kobolds quickly retreated. The oracle's own bodykobolds stepped up to slay the abhorrent creation, but their master stopped them. "No, I will take of it myself. None other might withstand the danger." They obeyed, thinking he must be brave and powerful indeed to take on such a risk himself. (Truth be told they were thankful to be spared the task as none of them wanted to die destroying a real monster, even if it was tiny.)

The elderly kobold wrapped up the creature in old rags and carried it away from the snarl. He traveled far, to a city of the Underdark. He crept into the terrible city and carried the bundle to a mage he had trucked with in the past. The mage may have a use for such a thing and might be willing to pay well for it.

Onerus was working on a vital experiment when he heard a sibilant sissering of welcome. He nearly added too much and ruined his work of the past week in his surprise. Whirling around, he bore down upon this unexpected and unwelcome intruder. Seeing it was the old kobold oracle of the Blightburn tribe, he grimaced, but stayed his hand. The kobold had provided some small items of worth in the past and was always eager to sell anything he thought might be of worth.

"What do you want?" He snarled at the lizard.

"I have a treasure for you." Replied the oracle.

"I sincerely doubt it." The mage responded.

"Look, look! It is the most rare of creatures. A true dragon. It is worth much. Very much!" The kobold said as he pulled back the rags and proffered the hatchling.

Seeing the bundle unwrapped, the mage couldn't help but be impressed. At first glance it was a kobold. A kobold with wings. Still only a kobold. "It is one of your deformed brood. I will not buy your outcast!" He bellowed in mock anger, hoping to drive down the price.

"No, no, no. It is not one of ours. Cast a light and look more closely. It is something else." The kobold mystic implored.

With a flick of his fingers, the arcanist created light on his fingertip and his eyes grew large. "What is this? Where did you get it?'

I find it! It is a great treasue! You buy! Pay much for it! The eager kobold replied.

The mage considered this offer. "What would you want for it?"

Power! Great power! I will be greatest oracle in the tribe. Mouthpiece of our terrible Gakraza!"

The mage nearly laughed. He knew exactly how to pay and just what would entice the little reptile. "I have just the thing. A great magic item that will allow you bring forth the voice of your god and let your fellows hear his words." Thus said, he went over to a bench and took up a thin gold ring with a tiny signet set into it. "Here, this is the item. See it's magic? It is a powerful device. Let me show you how to use it."

The mage instructed the kobold in how to use the device create a magic mouth on any surface and say the words it wanted to be spoken. The kobold was excited at this item. It would make him even more powerful. Those other acolytes would be pushed back years from usurping his position in the tribe. He gladly traded away the creature for this ring.

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There has been much trouble for the tribe. The monkeyspawn grow ever bolder and search for the snarl and it's treasures. They have come close enough to kill one of the tribe's greatest guardians, the troll dog. It is too much! The oracle prayed to the Great Glowing Dragon of the Earth for guidance. His prayers were answered. He had a dream. It showed him what must be done. It also showed him something that he thought was behind him. The great gout of violet dragonfire troubled him. It was a true sign. It showed that perhaps their horrible god had intended for them to have that little monster. Perhaps it truly was blessed. Maybe they weren't supposed to shine the bad light and see the color of it's scales. Oh, this was very bad. He would have to find some way to correct this mistake.

Painfully walking all the way to the Underdark city again, he again approached the mage's sanctum. Entering, he found the wizard wildly swinging a broom in the air after a gliding creature. It was the kobold! It yet lived! He may yet be saved.

"No, no, no! Do not kill it!" The kobold sage implored of the mage.

Distracted by the voice, the mage narrowly missed the little blighter. "Bah! Who...? Oh, it's you! You did this to me. You tricked me into buying this wretched little thing from you. It has ruined my workshop, my laboratory!"

"Yes, yes, it is a terrible thing you have there. It is no good. No worth! I will catch it and take it away. You are right, you are right." The old kobold sought to placate the mage.

Yes, you will. It was worthless as a familiar. I tried the ritual twice and it failed both times. That was expensive enough but then it started climbing the walls and launching itself into the air. It is a winged rat, crashing into everything. You had better catch it."

The little reptilian immediately set to, gathering items from amongst the wreckage. In no time, he had set a trap for the other kobold. The glider stopped on a wall and silently watched the other one, curious to see what it was doing. When it saw the food left on the floor, it swooped down to it, grabbing it with both of it's clawed hands. Snap! went the rope around his wrists and he began thrashing and pulling to get away. When the rope didn't give, he began biting it and chewing through the ropes to get them off of himself.

Thwack! The broom came down on it's head and he dropped to the ground lifelessly. The kobold oracle ran up and inspected the winged kobold. Ah, it was still alive. Good, good. Seeing the mage was about to strike again, he held up his hands, "NO!"

"What? Get out of my way. That rat dies!"

No, I take the rat away. I will get rid of it. No more mess in your work shop. Your lab-or-story."

Fine! Just get it out of here." the mage yelled.

The sage dragged the unconscious form after him away from the mage. As he was just about to cross the threshold, a voice came after him. "I will have back that ring. You owe me for all this damage."

Cringing, the old kobold slumped his shoulders and wrested the ring from his finger. He let it fall to the floor as he picked up the body again and dragged it away.

Returning to the city, the old oracle healed the kobold and explained what he was and why he was being brought back. There was danger to the snarl and the tribe and he was needed to help the kobolds. He would listen to the other kobolds and do as they say, never leaving their side and protecting them from baddies.

Once they had reached the snarl, he snuck in the misbegotton wretch into his own cave and then called all of the tribe together. When they had answered his call, he explained the dream to them. He told them of the weapons and items that were to be found and of the violet dragonfire.

He then summoned forth the winged kobold and showed him to the tribe. A couple remembered the hatchling and recognized it. They hissed in anger, confusion and fear. This was the outcast. It was an abomination and could not be allowed among the true believers.

The oracle calmed them down and lit a torch. He exclaimed, "Look at the scales! See their color! I knew that this one was important and could not be discarded so easily. He would be of use to the tribe one day, so I hid him away from the snarl and tribe until his time was upon us. He will go and help to save the tribe."

Once again, the tribe thought their oracle was truly wise. He alone had known that the aberration was special and kept it to be used when needed. Truly, he was blightburn blessed.