They say that history is recorded by the victor, that the conquered and subjugated never have their histories remembered.  Civilizations vanish leaving no record for future; Time consumes all history that is not carefully recorded.  So it was with great surprise when I happened across such a history.  The truth came in the most unusual of forms.

I was aiding the plight of the children of Undine.  Kalliope had told me of the Kobold and Goblin that plagued her town.  I, for my part, was attempting to educate the Kobold in the error of terrorizing human children... with my scythe.  As I wandered the plains of Astrid delivering a pointed education, I came across a very old Kobold.  His fur was grey and matted.  He could barely hold his blade in his paw.  His eyes, however, still burned with the pride of a Kobold.
 

The old Kobold laid his weapon on the ground as I approached, and I knew he meant me no harm.  He beckoned me to listen to his story, a story that needed to be told.  I listened to this story with great interest, for it is rare that one gets to hear the insight of one who lives on the other side of things.
 

"Know you, 'tuatha de danaan', that the 'tuatha de Arpina' are not your enemies.  The Kobold pack of Astrid is a wayward race.  My pack is not what you would call evil.  We are masters of stealth and illusion, not true minions of what you humans call Chadul."
 

"We pups of the All-Mother once roamed the plains, free and unfettered.  We were one with the athar that flows across the plains.  We did not bother the humans who dwell nearby, save for an occasional honorable theft of food from your pens when the winds did not bless our pack with enough food."
 

"The thing we call Caroun is an ancient rite practiced by all peoples of this land.  You humans sacrifice food to please your gods to grant you a bountiful harvest next season.  We, the children of Arpina used this sacred rite in a different way.   Our pack was kept strong with the sacrifice of the runt of the litter.  The rite was to return the runt to the womb from which our pack all came, that it may be reborn a proud and strong Kobold in future.  It was a painful ritual, but it was for the good of the pack and Arpina's will."
 

"All that was before the coming of the bocan pack.  Oh, how our pack has come to lament the day this great curse befell our people.  They appeared at the edge of our Astrid and spread across it like an ill wind.  We knew not what to make of these interlopers when first they tread our plains, but our pack soon found out.  They came before our council of elders and told us to rejoice; we need no longer sacrifice our own pups.  With the strength of their pack added to our own, we could appease Arpina with human children."
 

"Our elders were wise, however.   They knew that to use human flesh in our Caroun would surely bring the wrath of Arpina and the wrath of the 'tuatha de danaan' upon our pack.  The elders sent the bocan pack away.  They would have no part of this sacrilege."
 

"Over the next few weeks, the bocan pack took their plan directly to our mothers, for they were most hurt by our ancient rite of Caroun.  The mothers came before the elders to voice support of the bocan plan, but the elders were wise to such guile, and still refused."
 

"The next trick the bocan tried was not so subtle.  The wisest of the elders was found in pieces upon the ground, human weapons littered beside his desecrated corpse.  They told us the humans slew him.  The bocan said we could avenge his slaughter with the abduction and sacrifice of human pups.  The Kobold pack are masters of deception, however.  This crude trick was an affront to our ways.  There was no scent of man about the remains of our revered elder, only that of bocan.  We knew then that the bocan were enemies of the Kobold pack of Astrid."
 
 
 
 
 

"The Kobold pack of Astrid tried its best to rid our plains of the bocan scourge.  Our wily rogues laid traps to deter them from treading so lightly on Kobold land, but their snares and snipes only annoyed the bocan.  Our wise shamans tried to avenge the death of our elder with their strongest magics and spells.  The bocan shamans' magic, however, proved stronger.  My warrior kin fought a mighty fight against the bocan, using all the bravery they could muster.  But the bocan pack was too strong.  After a moon of battle, our pack was cowed; The bocan pack became our masters."
 
 
 
 

"And so it was one night that our new masters bade our pack's wiliest rogues to take your pups from their homes.  But our pack's rogues proved too wily for the bocan; They left our plains and fled to faraway plains with the speed of athar, an honorable tradition of our kind.  The bocan were furious.  The next night, when they ordered the same task as the night before of our wiliest remaining rogues, the bocan held our pack's mothers hostage.  They would be slaughtered if the rogues fled this time.  So it was that our rogues used mighty Kobold stealth to steal away small humans from the dwellings on the edge of our Astrid.
 

"Kobold rogues are very stealthy.   Their thefts go as unnoticed as a soft breeze.  They returned triumphantly to Astrid with the human pups the bocan wanted so badly.  The children were hidden by the bocan's dark secrets of creag for the evil Caroun their pack would have my pack perform.  As your kind no doubt know, our efforts to fulfill the hideous desires of our new masters came to naught.  The mighty of your kind, the 'Aislings', spread across our plains and slaughtered our pack and our bocan masters to retrieve your young."
 

"Our bocan masters were not pleased with this.  They continued to send our pack into the place you call Undine to steal more of your young.  They must have learned some guile from our pack, for they motivated our stealthy rogues with promises of human blood equal to that of Kobold blood spilt.   But time and again the 'Aislings'  have put a stop to the plans of our bocan masters."
 

"For so long now, this cycle of death has continued.  The pups of our pack no longer wish to hear how things were, the tragic tale of how our kind came to be caught in this spiral of destruction.  They only see the humans slaughtering their friends and litter mates in your undying attempts to retrieve your young.   In order for the truth to be remembered, it must be told to ones who will listen.  So mark well these words I have spoken, human.  My pack's salvation depends on the days of the past being remembered."
 
 
 
 

The old Kobold asked that I do him one final favor.  He was old and weak now, a burden to his pack.  He wanted to go join Arpina through a Caroun as they once were for his kind.  His eyes were sad now, yet still flickered with the pride of a fighter.  I raised my scythe and delivered his final wish.
 

I cannot help but relate this plight of the Kobold to the plight of Undine.  Both lands were once free, but now are occupied by forces claiming to be their allies.  It is too great a coincidence, there is surely sinister plotting at work in this part of the world.  I tell this tale now to all who will listen, lest the truth of this page of our world's history be lost in the fog of war.