"Any smaller, and I'd have to be looking at a clit..."

Your cute little micro-phallus twitches, as if in acknowledgement of your first meeting. You raise your chin, returning to look more or less straight ahead, and find that the priest is already seated again in his strange throne, but is now eyeing you with far more approval (and licentiousness) than before. Your gaze tracks upward behind him, your non-human eyes now well suited to these conditions, you are once again surprised by a private change that had escaped your notice so far.

The crudest forms of glyphs in this hall are now apparent in their meaning to you, as you realise following their outlines with your eyes, as the dictates of dogma and scripture manifest in your mind. The other glyphs, those Draconic runes, remain opaque to you. And, now, so does the solitary name in large alien letters; the same name you saw as it was anomalously seared into your scaled belly; the name which you formerly recognised as having a meaning of its own, in your forgotten tongue, from the old world.

Lower down the cave wall, the rudimentary carvings in Yipyak, now the only pseudo-language at your disposal, identify this indecipherable phrase as the true name of your god and master-of-masters, he who you will know as Staddzaarruss.

The purer, Draconic nomenclature for this incorporate entity is Studsaurus. A name that even on its own, if properly pronounced, is capable of arousing the blessedly-endowed of His children to zealous rapture, sexual domination, and bestial contest. As for you... The sight of the runes, though not meaningful to you in themselves, already evoke a radiant, blossoming desire in you to behave and to please the Greatly-Endowed; to submit and to serve those who are Blessed.

For you will find no example of koboldkind in all the Underdark who possesses lesser of the masculine divine right to power than you. Your body markings of carnal subservience daubed in the seed-chalk, which by your total lack of external or internal resistance are now permanent, mean you will never forget what you are, or what your purpose is.

Even the language that was necessary to define and describe - not least for yourself - the who, what and how of your translation to this... Plane?... Has now been withdrawn to just beyond your reach. To describe, From the Old World... And so much of what you saw, did, and were before now.

You still know, vaguely, why it is you came to be here... The incorporated entity- no, wait... He you call the divine male, your Master-of-Masters, Staddzaarruss sent you here, in His infinite generative generosity... The reason you belong to His blessed Sons now, is that you wanted for nothing else but for them to have all that they could take from you... And so now you exist in this dark, reclusive place, where your destiny and social status is determined by ancient and divine judgements from long ago- dictates handed-down, translated and filtered to reach you. You're here, and here like... This... Because this is the place where your worth, precedence and authority shall always be known among your kind by the measure of your manhood... Kobold-kind... Male-kind...

And still, you offer your lust-clouded prayers in thanks to the god who caused all His kingdom to be stacked above you, and who has allowed you to act out your Faith through eternal gratitude and submission to all His Sons, in His place.