Kobolds Ate My Baby!

Nestled in the heart of the Pennwood, far from the human metropolis of Olde Yorke, cut off from the trading hub of Elfadelphia, and outside of the iron walls of Dwarfburgh, the quaint farming village of Bumbledale sits isolated in a clearing, where life today remains as it has for the past centuries. Aside from the occasional marauding monster or psychotic elementalist, nothing interesting ever seems to happen in Bumbledale, and that's just how the people like it. They work hard, they laugh heartily, and they love deeply. So deeply, in fact, that the town often has a fresh supply of babies.

You see, babies are the favored food of kobolds, and unknown to the farmers of Bumbledale, not far from their homestead is another settlement, a kobold cave. And within this cave, canine denizens salivate to think of such a hearty feast, as if some great spellcaster rang a spectral bell to inform them it was time to feed. No kobold is so hungry as King Torg (all hail King Torg!), whose greatness is matched only by his immense girth, in turn matched only by the size of his appetite. When word spread throughout their warrens that the king demanded human babies to gorge upon, they took up arms (well, what passes for arms among kobolds) and prepared to feast!

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