A.K.A. Face thy Woe, and Know that thy Woe Has a Name, and that Name Is Kobold . . .
Koboom!—A Kobold Adventure
The Shockdeath tribe is small and little known, but they have a deadly secret.
The tribe members have mated in the past with a group of dark stalkers and creepers, and as such, have inherited a little of these latter creatures’ death throes ability. When you kill these kobolds, they explode, messily and violently.
The PCs are offered what seems like a fairly mundane job—venture into the Twisty Caverns and attack the kobold tribe therein. After the kobolds have been exterminated, return to town to collect the reward. Local miners even know of a sneaky way in: an underground river known as the Twisty Turny River, a series of tricky and dramatic rapids that allow the PCs access into the very heart of the caverns.
All goes well, despite the challenges of the Twisty Turny River, until the first kobold is killed. With its death comes the realization that the only way out now is through the caverns filled with violently exploding kobolds, many of whom have death wishes and a fanatical religious desire to self-destruct, taking as many surface-dwellers with them as possible.
Substitute these variations into your kobold stat blocks:
Special Attack death throes (see below)
Death Throes (Su) When a kobold of the Shockdeath tribe is slain, its body combusts in a flash of white-hot flame. This acts like a fireball that deals 2d6 damage to all creatures within a 15-foot-radius. A DC 13 Reflex save halves this damage; a tribe-member’s gear and treasure are unaffected by this explosion. The save is Constitution-based.
My Perfect Cousin—A Kobold Adventure
At last! Destiny has finally been fulfilled. Well, in a way.
It’s a well-known fact that kobolds have a great affinity with dragons, and when the Fluffwing tribe announces that they have a dragon in their caverns and demand tribute, the neighboring humanoids scoff. Then the truth begins to out—the Bonebiter troglodyte clan were the first to be assailed, withering as a force when they entered the great hall of the Fluffwings and saw and heard the dreadful dragon in all its emerald glory. The result: They stretched out at its vast beryl feet and declared their obedience to the malachite horror. The chief of the Fluffwings—the Terrible Gob—was lenient and merciful, however, and a suitably vast tribute was leveled for the trogs’ understandable mistake and unwitting naughtiness.
Word spread, and soon tributes arrived to the jade terror from the nearby goblin tribe of Butterfly Dewingers and the gnoll tribe of Stomp. Each bore a note—please do not eat us mighty dragon, here is lots of treasure so you hopefully wont, and there’s more to come.
Unfortunately, Gob likes pretty things and soon spent the money on sealing wax and fancy hats and silk underthings. Hitting upon another truly chiefy plan, he sent his mightiest warriors to the nearby halfling village of Chuddle to demand tribute. Halfling rangers were sent out to investigate the claims about dragons and they soon learned from other humanoid tribes nearby that there really is a huge green dragon at Fluffwing Caves. The tribute was readied in wagons.
Enter the PCs to Chuddle
The Fluffwing’s friend is a little less dragon than clay and bones and moss in a large dark cave. Add the fact that the sinkholes in the great cave echo greatly, and the scene is set for a very convincing dragon. A beautifully harmonious deep-voiced trio of kobolds shouting from a high hole lends credence to the green dragon’s terrible booming voice, the occasional flap of a fake wing adds further realism, and the burning eyes of lanterns complete the image.
The scene is also set for a group of heroes to enter the fray and unmask the façade. Unfortunately for them, if they do so, the goblin, gnoll, and troglodyte clans are so infuriated and embarrassed by being duped by bloody kobolds that they dare not risk word spreading. They form an alliance to overthrow Chuddle and slaughter every last man, woman, child, kitten, puppy, foal, and piglet to prevent their shame from being known to other humanoids.
The Battle of Chuddle is coming . . .