On the Characteristic Faculties of the Kobolds

The most conspicuous features of a Kobold are seldom those most useful in understanding him. His projecting muzzle, prominent incisors and sparsely haired tail have supplied generations of illustrators with material which they might profitably have supplemented by acquaintance with a living subject. The resemblance to a rat is real and superficial; its value in determining descent remains unproved. Certain correspondences with the Dwarven skeleton deserve closer attention, particularly the proportions of the forearm and the disposition of the ankle bones. Yet similar demands upon a body may produce similar arrangements, and resemblance alone cannot tell us how those arrangements arose. I have examined sufficiently many specimens to reject several confident explanations, but I have yet to acquire the specimen which would justify a confident explanation of my own.

The Kobold body is compact, with a broad trunk and powerful attachments for the muscles of the shoulders. Among the adults I measured at the Stenhope cutting, stature varied considerably less than chest circumference, a circumstance which made the railway contractor’s issue of clothing unusually foolish. He had ordered everything according to height and attributed the resulting restriction of movement to the wearers’ awkwardness. I required him to attempt a quarter-hour’s shovelling in a coat fastened tightly across his own shoulders. His conversion was prompt, although he subsequently described the experiment as an indignity. In common with Dwarves, Kobolds can exert considerable force where there is little room to swing a tool. Their grip differs, however: the handle bears strongly against the heel of the palm, and a Human shaft of comfortable diameter may compel a Kobold to work with the wrist displaced. This is a defect in the shaft; manufacturers who sell one pattern to every people have been remarkably successful in persuading purchasers that anatomy is responsible for their economies.

Kobold vision is best understood by attending to illumination before attempting any judgement of acuity. Full daylight causes evident discomfort, and performance upon a sunlit test-board is poor. Under a shaded lamp, the same subjects distinguish marks which they had apparently failed to perceive outside. I initially attributed this improvement to familiarity with the test. A tunnel surveyor named Ress proposed that I repeat it myself while facing the low western sun, and I accepted, having already spoken too decisively to retreat with dignity. His objection survived the experiment. I consequently refuse all tables of comparative vision which omit the strength and direction of the light. Whether Kobolds discriminate colours less finely than Humans remains uncertain; the available trials confuse unfamiliar colour names with failures of perception. Elven investigators, whose own visual accomplishments are considerable, have been especially willing to overlook this difficulty.

Smell occupies a larger place in Kobold recognition than it does among Humans. At Stenhope, acquaintances were identified correctly behind a screen even when forbidden to speak, although accuracy diminished when air was drawn away from the observer. Such performances establish a faculty; they do not establish the extravagant range sometimes claimed for it. Ress could recognise his brother’s coat and failed to recognise his brother in a recently tarred gallery. He considered both results obvious. Of greater practical importance is the persistence of scent upon borrowed clothing and bedding. A hospital orderly who changed several patients’ blankets without explanation produced a disturbance which the superintendent entered as “collective agitation peculiar to the species”. I had the blankets returned and the entry amended. The patients had repeatedly explained the difficulty. No peculiarity of their nervous systems was required to account for their annoyance at being ignored.

Their underground works display the consequences of these bodily faculties more clearly than any cabinet specimen. Kobold passages often retain an irregular surface, while their gradients and connections show exact attention to the movement of water and air. Human visitors commonly condemn the workmanship before following the drains. At Stenhope, I disputed the engineer’s assertion that a narrow ascending passage was an abandoned excavation, because its position appeared to connect two levels of unequal warmth. My proposed explanation was substantially correct, though I mistook the direction of the current. Ress demonstrated the error with lamp-smoke and then opened a door whose existence I had missed. The network regulated its draught through several such doors. I publish the correction because the arrangement merits description, and because the engineer has since attempted to claim that we were equally mistaken.

Kobold language supplies ample means for discussing such arrangements, including the obligations attached to maintaining them. In one community, a speaker’s account of a blocked drain ordinarily indicated whether he had seen the obstruction, inferred it from rising water, or received the report from somebody else. I cannot yet determine whether these distinctions are compulsory grammatical forms or merely habits of careful speech. Kinship, personal names and disputed duties enter readily into conversation; so do jokes, whose translation suffers when the interpreter has failed to discover who owes whom a bucket. Their willingness to examine borrowed instruments has occasionally been represented as an inability to respect property, but I have found it more useful to stipulate which alterations require consent. A pressure gauge returned to me with a broader adjustment wheel was appreciably easier to operate in gloves, and I authorised the alteration of its companion.

A general account must therefore distinguish the characteristics of Kobold bodies from the accomplishments of particular Kobold communities. Their sensitivity to glare and habitual palm grip recur widely; the ventilation system at Stenhope required instruction, accumulated experience and somebody willing to repair a door. Comparisons with Dwarves are valuable where skeletal structure or confined labour is concerned, while comparisons with Humans become useful when designing shared hospitals or workshops. Beyond such defined enquiries, declarations that one people possesses more “natural ingenuity” than another generally reveal how few workshops the declarant has visited. We still lack adequate observations of Kobold growth and longevity, and our knowledge of communities beyond the railway districts is poor. I would welcome evidence from those places, especially evidence which obliges me to revise this account. Collectors should meanwhile cease sending me incisors accompanied by opinions.