One small skull is all that remains of a pitiable kobold soul.

  Astrid is the home of the kobold society.  They are weaned as pups there and grow to full maturity there.  They live at war with Aislings, a long-standing bloody war.  But this poor pup.. He saw one too many of his kin viciously slaughtered by Aislings.  Fear gripped him, for he did not want to die.  He fled deep into the Astrid plains to try to escape the hordes of invading Aislings.

  Deep in Astrid powerful monsters lurk.  This weak pup met a mighty goblin guard there who took pity upon him.  A bargain was struck.  The goblin would cripple invaders for the kobold pup, and the pup would finish them off, taunting them with jeers and stabs of his small soori.  A way to build some confidence, if not experience.

  This arrangement worked well.  Very well for the pup, indeed.. Until one day, when the high kobold shamans got word of the mere pup who could smite Aislings with but one or two swings of his soori.  Impressed, they sent him on the most holy of missions for a kobold... To go into Undine and abduct a small child for their Caroun.  The pup was sent alone, as was ordained by the rituals.

  Slinking into Undine town, the pup found himself once again gripped with fear.  His mighty guardian goblin guard could not help him here, in the heart of the invader's lands.  He had never practiced his own abilities, and knew not what to do.  Confusion joined his fear.  How was one to capture a child?  Vaguely, he tried to recall his elders teachings of the kobold arts.

  ..A trap.. Yes, they had taught him how to construct traps!  This must be how his elders captured the children.  Taking stock of what he had, he realized he neglected to bring any of the traditional trap kit with him, just his soori that had slain oh so many dying Aislings.  He would have to make do.  To return to the plains in failure was not an option.

  Ducking from building to building, he sought a place to lay a trap for a child.  But where did human children tread most?  A learned kobold might have known, but this poor pup knew only fear.  He had to settle for setting his trap outside the doorway of the only building he saw to contain a child - the tavern.  He set his soori in his trap and hid in waiting for the sound of the spring.  The pup didn't have to wait long, and the snap of his inexpertly laid trap snapped him to attention.

  Leaping from his concealment, expecting to see a helpless child, he instead found his old friend fear running down his spine once more.  Before him in stood a full-grown Aisling, with a knife in his boot an a rather perturbed expression on his face.  The kobold's soori planted firmly in that boot, the pup could do naught but whimper.

  His death was swift, or so they say.  An Aisling full of wine does not find a knife in his foot very amusing.  A small skull that knew only fear is all that remains.

  Perhaps wise Aislings can still relay the lesson he failed to learn in this life to the next through his remains:

  If you let others do all your work for you, you cannot expect to be able to do anything for yourself ever again.