Emberscale Alchemist

As the months pass and the questions continued unabated, they neared the end of their first year and the nursery would soon be needed for the next clutch of eggs. It was time to move the hatchlings to one of the brood chambers. These were a larger set of caves with a central chamber and many smaller openings leading to alcoves about a cubic meter each dotted around its walls. Some needing to be climbed to while others are crawled into. These would be their homes for the next five years. The clutch had dwindled at a relatively slow pace, slower than most years generally see, with forty-one surviving to the full year mark. This caused its own issue as there are seldom more than forty hatchlings surviving to their move. A new alcove needed to be carved into the brood chamber by the miners, leaving one hatchling without a proper den for the first several days.

The clutch had mostly decided that they did not like the little runt. A term which that after a minder accidentally said it in front of them, has taken off among the hatchlings. She interrupts their fun and doesn't wrestle like the others, still fighting dirty if she's forced to. The only time she'll even growl at them is if she has food; they all know not to try to take it by this point. Somehow, she has managed not to send any of her siblings that have tried to the Culling, but many of them bear scars for their attempts.

Surprisingly the odd one out without their own cubby was not the little one, but the largest of her siblings. The one she fought with on the first day with the clutch. Despite his size he has found himself at the bottom of the pecking order after that defeat and subsequent defeats from his attempts at retribution towards his sister. Or from his siblings that saw his repeated losses as openings to do the same. He certainly remains the largest of the bunch but has become much more defensive in nature, keeping to himself and letting the others get away with things no hatchling of his size usually would.

Though he does not actually go without. The littlest member of the clutch allowed, or rather forced, him to share her own for the few days needed. At some point over the course of the year it would appear that they had settled their differences and in a turn of roles the larger sibling was now protected by the smallest of the bunch. Though none managed to catch them during the time in the hatchery, this was also how she was getting out of the pen. He would lift her up to reach the high latch and open the gate.

Now within the Brood chamber they are free to move about the entire room, with a door blocking the exit into the hallways and minders spaces. Much to the little one's dismay they no longer have a minder in their room at all hours however, so she was already plotting the manner of the door's defeat.

The entire clutch was talking now, though mostly clipped words, requests for food, and near indecipherable arguments with each other. With the move to the new chambers their education would also finally begin, so their vocabulary should improve quickly over the coming months. A certain undersized hatchling however had made leaps and bounds in her speech, to the dismay of all those around her, as a more robust vocabulary means more words she can use to ask questions. Knowing the Matrons would soon take over her education and as the easiest targets for her many questions led the minders and Elder Korse to a sigh of relief.

Though as it would turn out, they weren't out of the woods yet. More knowledge just leads to bigger questions after all.

A new kobold entered the brood chambers some days after they had settled in. Given that it was quite infrequent that outsiders be brought to see the hatchlings, they were all very excited by the event.

The somewhat diminutive woman wearing unfamiliar garb, a simple red and black robe cinched at the waist with red dyed rope, greeted the clutch. "Greetings Hatchlings, I am Matron Rels. I serve under the Elder Matron Kles at the Chapel of the Scale. Some of you may have heard of that before while others haven't, don't worry, it's not important for now." Talking with a somewhat bored tone, like she'd said the same thing many times already. "What is important is that I will be your instructor going forward. I will be helping you learn your letters, numbers, and the great history of Clan Emberscale and the kobold race."

Continuing to address the group of mostly attentive little kobolds, "Now, I know some of you," looking directly at the inquisitive eyes of a particular pupil she had been warned of, "have heard some of what I will be teaching you before, but everyone needs a chance to learn and grow their minds as they have been growing their bodies." Also looking at the noticeably smaller little hatchling.

"Today I will begin with the letters, who can recite all of them?" There are a few responses, notably not the smallest of them. All beginning at once, some starting at A, while others at B, or a very errant Q. The Matron holds up her hand, "Quiet now, quiet now. If you would like to answer one of my questions, please raise your hand and I will choose one of you to proceed, I'll try to give everyone a turn." A few little clawed hands went up and the lesson began in earnest.

The following few months continued as much the same. Mealtimes, a few hours of lessons with the matron, and recreational activities ranging from chasing, wrestling, climbing, or hunting, sometimes bugs, sometimes each other. One little kobold frequently spent her time alone, attempting to figure out how the latch on the door out of the brood chamber worked. She's yet to figure out that this particular latch had been adjusted especially for her.

As a new day begins a pair of Matrons arrive. The second though dressed identically, is significantly older. The black of her scales greying at the edges, the red somewhat paler and without the shine.

Matron Rels begins by introducing the newcomer alongside her, "Pupils, I have a special guest for your lesson for you today, this is Elder Matron Kles." Gesturing to the aged kobold as she speaks.

Kles steps forward, everyone gathered to listen to what she has to say. "Greetings hatchlings, it is time for a special lesson today. I am here to tell you about the history of the kobolds. And like all stories, it's best to start at the beginning." Matron Kles begins her tale to the assembled youth, even the typically disinterested little girl is paying rapt attention to this new piece of knowledge she has never heard before.

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"Ages and ages past, before there were kobolds there were the Great Dragons. The greatest of them all, even above the great Emberscale, was the Matriarch, Anazul the Iridescent." Pausing to create suspense and ensure she'd hooked their attention before continuing,

"The Matriarch was the mother of all dragons upon our world of Icara, having taken her brood and fled here along with the many others to seek refuge from the unending war between the realms above and below. To this world, to Icara, that was to be sealed away from it all and sheltered from the conflict." Her words attempting to paint a dark picture in their young minds. "For a time, she was content upon her land. The continent that bears her name, Anazul's Clutch." The name spoken in longing reverence for their ancestral home. "But she saw what the surface dwellers built, the riches they amassed, and grew envious." A note of admonition in her tone as she speaks of envy. "Envious because the dragon's great claws could not fashion the intricacies of man, their works could tower above all but lacked the detail and depth of those she felt were her lesser."

Her storytelling continued, her voice firm and strong despite her aged appearance. "To abate this envy the dragons brought man and elf, dwarf and gnome, from their homes upon the other continents; like here where we reside upon Vor." She added as an aside to help the hatchlings understand. "She bade them to delve beneath the earth for riches and to build in the dragons names and offered them her wisdom and protection in exchange." Her voice conjuring images of riches and fanciful constructs unknown to the young kobolds who'd seen nothing but the insides of a few caves. "They created wonders for the Great Dragons, keeps and castles, gardens and monuments, but it was not enough." Her disappointment clearly directed at the races, as the dragons could not possibly be at fault. "The lesser races held not the tenacity of the dragons. Nor their flight or strength. Their works took so long the artisans that designed the project oft did not survive to see it completed." Kles shakes her head making her disappointment in the place of the dragons clear. Even Rels, having heard this tale dozens of times, was taken in by her telling.

"And so, the Matriarch called forth their most loyal of subjects among the lesser races and bade them to change." Spoken like a divine command, Kles filled the words full of awe and reverence. "That she would impart upon them a barest fraction of her essence that they might become alike to the Great Dragons in some small way." Her words gentle and the implied benevolence clear from her voice. "Many accepted, and they became the first of the draconic races, not kobolds, but Drakkiri. Our cousins." Shaking her head as though playing a trick by their assumption that kobolds came first. "But they were not just Drakkiri, those first. They were of the Matriarch, as only she had the power to create something new." Stated as though all knew of such. "They were of the Matriarch and as such, these new people were the Iridescent Drakkiri. Both blessed and cursed, as their lesser bodies could not withstand the weight of her magnificence." Again, her disappointment clearly aimed at those who could not live up to the dragon's desires, rather than the one who created them.

Pausing to allow the hatchlings to absorb her words. Both Kles and Rels looked about to see some of the faces before them distracted. Others paying attention. But none with the same rapt look of unbridled curiosity of their smallest pupil. "These Drakkiri were magnificent and flawed. They had wings of shining scale that reflected the light in a shifting rainbow of colours, but were doomed to live even shorter lives than the lesser races from which they came." Speaking with a tone of sadness and loss. "The Matriarch was not to be deterred however, for she had the same problem with even her own progeny. The weight of her iridescence was too much for even them. As she had split her essence amongst the twelve Great Dragons, she would again with her newest children." Praising the Matriarch for her act of creation. "She called upon those first born to share their essence with the Drakkiri, to dilute her influence upon them and bring them the strength she desired of them." Pausing for suspense as she turns her gaze across those present. "And it worked."

Continuing on with the retelling. "The twelve tribes of Drakkiri were born, they would each serve their own great dragon and their line and together all would serve the matriarch as the dragons did." She exclaimed. "Even diluted, the Drakkiri still bore the slightest touch of the Matriarch's might, allowing them to grow and become more, or so the legends say."

With a grin and a sly look across the hatchlings, "Now I suppose some of you are wondering how this pertains to the kobolds?" Receiving nods in response to her question. "We came after." She says with a smile, "While the Drakkiri flourished and created for the Great Dragons. They were unable to fulfil all of the Matriarch's wants." Again, her disappointment in those serving the dragons clear. "They were creatures of the sky. Born to build and create above the earth, but they could not delve the deep places to retrieve the materials required. Their bodies large and frames slight to aid in flight. And so did the Matriarch seek to create again, this time prepared and knowing her children would be needed to guide the final process."

Her voice raising with joy and pride. "Thus came the kobolds, small, cunning, creatures of the earth. We were able to delve the dark places and furnish our cousins with that which the Great Dragons desired." Her words spawning images of the ancient kobolds offering up their spoils to the great dragons. "And so again, there would be twelve new clans. Each to serve their Draconic patron, and in turn serve the Matriarch's will." Her voice swelling with admiration of those that served their patron in ages past. "Over the centuries many of the Dragons expanded their reach and built homes upon the other continents or sent their kobold clans to retrieve materials for their works. One such place was here, beneath the Lone Peak. Where the Great Emberscale bade us seek untapped resources unavailable upon the shores of Anazul's Clutch."

Before continuing, her shoulders sag and a great sadness entering her voice as she begins speaking again, "Which is how we may stand here today. All who stood upon Anazul's Clutch on the dreadful Night of the Blood Skies, five centuries past were lost." Her voice breaking as she says finished speaking, as though the tragedy of that night was too much to bear.

Composing herself before she continued, "You'll have to await that tale another time when you are a bit older." Forcing the melancholy from her voice to admonish the hatchlings before leaving, "If you listen well in your lessons and behave, I'll return to tell you of it." Matron Kles gave a slight wink to the hatchlings and a nod to Rels to begin the rest of the days lessons as she departs. Though with some difficulty upon reaching the chambers door.

Jiggling the latch several times in attempt to open it before exclaiming in frustration, "Arh, what did they do to this door? I can't get the latch open."

"Allow me Elder, it's a bit tricky" as Rels rushed to her aid.