Vylt looks about himself. It has been many migration-cycles since they have seen the sun. They were one of the last to do so, before all of kobold-kind was finally forced underground.
He sighed. A shame they’d yet again find it necessary to go to ground, then. But secrecy was paramount here. If they were being hunted, they would have little time to do the work they needed to do.
Still, he took a moment to appreciate his body, which felt stronger than it had in years. His age had been catching up to him; now, he feels as if all of his youth has returned.
Regardless. Focus. There is work to be done.
Vylt weaves a Great Magic about himself, pulling together a veil of stardust, stone, shadows, and secrecy. Let those who seek him out find naught but wisps around the corner, leading them on wild chases, never catching sight. The earth is a place to hide.
Feeling more assured of their secrecy, Vylt sets about his second working, worldshaping. Below the surface, stone and metal churn and shift. A vast cavern system grows, where once such was uncommon. Vylt knows that to achieve the scale they desire, they cannot specify much of the caverns’ nature, but that is no matter; more specific regions can be constructed at a later time. What is needed now is a place to find.
With that done, in a feat of small magic - small for a god, at least - Vylt’s form wavers and becomes translucent, and they dive into the ground, phasing through it to reach their cavern sanctum.
Upon reaching the depths, Vylt considers his options. Kobolds will need to be created, eventually, but to do so now would provide them nothing but a target on their back and his; they are too obvious. A different race might be more useful to begin with - but, ah, it may be best to let that wait until the locale may be more effectively established.
Hmn.
Absentmindedly, they wonder, and as they wonder, their powers scry to answer. Who, beside us, are the gods of this place? But the answer shall remain locked in his own head, until he has reason to share.
Question answered, Vylt sets to yet another work of Great Magic. A curse on the underground, or a blessing. The caverns shall shift, twisting and turning, such that direction is meaningless and the walls form or disappear behind you. Yet in this working, so too is declared an exception: where mortals congregate and live, where they sign the mark of the pickaxe in the walls, the caverns shall lie still, that they might build their homes to their desires.
And finally, within these deep stones, close to the heat of the core, Vylt builds a small forge. It does not look impressive; in fact, it looks cruder than anything humanity might call an acceptable forge. It barely looks “made” at all, more closely hewing to a natural lava spout with a big, flat rock next to it. But it is suffused with divine power, and suits Vylt’s needs. A place to forge, just as the earth.
And with a place to forge, forge he does, using minor magics to pull metals to himself for use, crafting them into a set of tools. A pickaxe, small enough to wield in one hand, good for mining and self-defense; and a shield - buckler, really - to deflect the blows that may come their way.
Construction done, Vylt moves on. It would not do to stay by something so easily located.
(Also, anybody want me to make a channel for this game on my Discord? I can post an invite if you guys are interested.)