Nashkel Mine

The kobold comes to with gasp, reptilian eyes darting around. "What... what you want, big heroes?"

Sheemish cautiously moves to inspect the cavern, a number of questions on his mind. The first was if there were signs whether it was the kobold or the miners that opened the dead end into this area. Was this on purpose or by chance?

The second is how old the bridge and door are. If they are old or recent could shed light on why the kobold were here. Old could mean by chance, and recent could mean they meant to come this way. And were these even kobold made?

Sheemish's questions are good ones. His artificer's mind works quickly, noting details in the surroundings and piecing them together with what he knows about mines, kobolds, and architecture. It doesn't take him long to come to some conclusions.

Firstly, it seems apparent to him that this lava chamber is a natural one. The stone is old and covered in mineral layers, rather than chopped and broken like the walls of the mine. What's more, the bridge and door, while not made of the finest materials, are relatively new. Someone found this chamber, approved of it, and made themselves at home, all within the last several months.

Secondly, he's sure that the kobolds tunneled from this chamber into the mine, rather than the other way around. Though then the question arises, from where did the kobolds come? Is there another exit to the mountainside from here? Or did the kobolds come from somewhere deeper, perhaps a passage from the Underdark itself?

But even then he has an answer, for the bridge is made of wood. The miners certainly didn't build it, and where would creatures of the Underdark come across birch trees? As far as Sheemish knows, true wood is a rare commodity below the world's surface. Thus, there must be another exit to the surface nearby, almost certainly somewhere on the other side of the door.

The kobold curls up into a scaley ball and sobs. Apparently Dieter was too harsh with it, having scared it witless. It may require a softer touch now to get any answers out of it.

The kobold's tail flips down from where it was covering its face, and it cracks open an eye. "Cookie?" Still not uncurling itself, it glances suspiciously at the offering in Dieter's hand.

"Yous kill mesa friends, and then gives cookie? ...Okay!" The kobold stretches out a thin claw to snag the cookie and pull it to its mouth. The cookie is never seen again, but the kobold does seem more comfortable now.

The kobold snatches the ration pack before Dieter's fingers leave it, and then it too is devoured, cloth and all.

"You talks funny. Bu' wes can shakey-shake." He holds out his scaley, crumb-covered hand expectantly.

The kobold stares at Dieter with wide eyes as their hands go up and down. When the fighter lets go, the kobold looks down at his own clawed hand. "Mesa wanteds more food."