Naldon. A distant world, rich with plant life, animals and even special energy known as Mana. This led to many creatures of human fantasy being made reality, Dragons, Vampires, Demons! Many creatures large and small called from other planes of existence due to this powerful Mana that drowned this world in energy.

But we aren't going to be seeing much of that for now, as this story isn't about some handsome Human hero traveling the vast continent of Fredyir to defeat evil demons and monsters. Sorry, that's just how the dice fell. No, this story is starting with a single, small, insignificant egg the color of dirty copper. The egg, that just started to hatch.

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Scrrrrrape. The sound of sharp, tiny claws against hard shell was the only thing that could be heard. An empty, cluttered cave filled with makeshift nests and bedding was left unattended thanks to the Great One's day of hatching. The Kobolds of Mount Nyghal, ruled by a single Copper Dragon, were rushing about much further from the den area of their cavern dwelling in preparation.

A small, half chirp, half squeak came from the miniscule cracks on a dirty, unkempt egg seemingly abandoned by the nesting adults. It was the only egg unhatched for the season, yet surprisingly the small minded Kobolds did not eat it as they usually did for late eggs, due to the Great One coming for it's tribute of shiny trinkets taken from dead human explorers.

In the darkness of the shell, a small brain was almost whirring with curiosity, the crack showing its inhabitant the very first ray of light it had ever seen, driving it to scratch more at the opening until the shell crumbled under the weight of the newborn Kobold. The small, deep bronze colored hatchling blinked its yellow eyes for a moment, before slowly climbing towards the pretty light coming from the entrance.

The small one had no thoughts aside from hunger and desire, wondering what the enchanting glow ahead was. Was it food? Was it shiny? It did not know. It only kept crawling forward until the gray turned to brown, the soft and mushy brown under it confusing it greatly. Why was the brown soft? The gray was hard. Was the brown food? Thus, it ate some of the brown, only to hack and spit the earthy dirt it had just taken a bite of out.

'The glow must be food. Food is what I want. I like food.'

Driven, the little Kobold grew to know that it was "I". This place it was born in felt comfortable, and safe. But the shining light was too enticing. It needed to know why such a pretty thing was on brown. But soon the brown became green. It also ate the green, which tasted like next to nothing, but not like dirt.

"Green is... food? No. Can eat green, but green not tasty."

The small lizard brain was churning and working overtime. For Kobolds, while they grew rapidly, they stayed stuck at the same intelligence as a four or five year old Human child, normally. Domestic Kobolds were smarter by a small margin due to close contact with other races.

Soon, it came to see more of the shining colors. There was blue, there was red. Green and Silver. Yellow and Purple. But the only bronze was the big thing. It didn't look like food. The big thing was like all the little things, but prettier. Better. Stronger, even.

"Does it have, food? Is it family? Mother? Father?"

The baby Kobold crawled past all the shiny colored things, as they turned to look at it. At *Him.* The tiny, newborn Kobold with scales like solid bronze, fearlessly making its way towards the Great One. They screeched in their scratchy, loud squawk voices, but he didn't understand.

"The little things.. noisy. Big thing... mother?"

Despite many attempts by the noisy little things, he soon found himself in front of a pristinely white talon, coppery scales going all the way to what seemed like the sky to the newborn. Not knowing any better, he gave the smallest of calls a baby knew. Asking to be fed by what he thought to be his mother.

And the big thing, in a smooth, cleanly metallic voice spoke to the screechy little things. Most of the noise made little sense to the hatchling. But one singular word, spoken in the Common tongue of the world, struck him like lightning.

"Hass, kreemah no'or shenla, Kreelow. Groh strohne, menh litthel wuah."

"Kreelow. That is me. I am Kreelow."

The name sent a strange, electrifying feeling down his body, as if something had just jolted the still Mana within the small, bronze core next to his heart. Soon, the feeling turned soothing, sating his hungry feeling and causing the little Kobold who was unknowingly the pride of his tribe, to quickly fall asleep on the benevolent Great One who had named him.