The last thing he saw was the head of the warhammer before everything went black.
Chapter Five
Witt woke to the sound of his own screams.
“They killed me!” he shouted, but the burrow was empty. His words echoed off the walls, every bit as hollow as Witt felt.
His internal clock told him that it was early afternoon, and everyone was at their posts for the day.
Witt pulled his knees to his chest, his thoughts consumed by what had just happened. For years, he had been waking up every day with no memory of the awful things he had endured. It was like those horrible memories had been wiped day in and day out. For the first time in his life, he realized that waking up in the afternoon with no one around was not oversleeping, it was respawning.
He was cold all over. Icy rage emanated from his core.
For so long, he had believed that he was doing good work, that he was helping the noble heroes on their pursuits of greatness and bravery. But now he knew the truth, they weren’t heroes. They were monsters.
Witt shook with anger. He’d spent years trying to be the helpful kobold, and this was how he had been repaid? It wasn’t right. But he could make it right. He’d give them what he’d received.
And worse.
He wanted revenge, but how? Clearly, he wasn’t strong enough to take on the heroes. The many times he had died proved that.
He raked his nails over his scales. There had to be something he could do. He would go talk to Hux. If he could convince the mage to join him, then maybe they could give the heroes a dose of their own medicine.
Witt grabbed his items and rushed down the tunnel. He froze in his tracks when he noticed something flashing in the corner of his vision. A tiny image of a kobold pulsed before him. He tried to reach out and touch it, but whatever he was seeing, it was like it was in his mind, not reality.
As he focused on the flashing image, it grew larger. With an audible click, the image of a grey kobold expanded into a sheet of parchment.
Name: Witt
Race: Kobold
Class: Skald (Barbarian/Bard hybrid)
Level: 4
STRENGTH: 10
DEXTERITY: 14
CONSTITUTION: 12
INTELLIGENCE: 8
WISDOM: 10
CHARISMA: 15
He stared at the display before him, wondering briefly if he was going insane. Deep inside, he knew it wasn’t true. He had stumbled upon something that he had been missing his entire life. It was as if a veil had been lifted and for the first time, he was seeing the world as it truly was. He couldn’t explain it, but he knew that the heroes had access to this kind of information.
The real question was what would he do with this knowledge?
He examined the sheet of parchment floating in his vision further. There was a section that listed his equipment and his proficiency with daggers and his lute. Below that, his clothing was itemized. At the very bottom, he found his skills and abilities.
Skills: Darkvision, Perception, Languages (Common, Draconic), Pack Stratagem, Music, Lore.
Beneath that was a list of abilities.
Abilities (available): As a skald, you gain one ability per level, alternating between bard and barbarian abilities.
Skaldic songs: Only one song may buff a party at a given time. Affected allies must be able to hear the skald for the song to have any effect. Deaf creatures, as well as undead, elementals, and constructs are not affected by songs.
1. Inspired Frenzy (bard): Increases Strength and Constitution of kobolds while sending them into a rage. The caster may also choose to accept the effects.
A raging song can be disrupted, and it ends immediately if the skald is killed, paralyzed, stunned, silenced, or incapacitated.
2. Strong Hand (barbarian): Hold a two-handed weapon in one hand.
3. Ballad of the Bold (bard): Increases Strength and Constitution of non-kobold allies.
4. Cleave (barbarian): Attacks deal splash damage in an arc.
Seeing his abilities listed out like this was an odd feeling. Knowing that he was level four out of gods only knew how many levels was a bit shocking. His mind wandered to the heroes who had killed him, and he wondered what level they might be.
Whatever level they are, I need to be stronger.
Witt took a deep breath and continued down the tunnel until he came to the hatchery. Something was different. A bar with words floated above each egg.
Kobold Egg
HP:10/10
He quickly found that by focusing on the eggs, he could make their health bars disappear and reappear at will. He stared at the dozens of floating bars, each one so small, even compared to his own. The future of his people rested in these tiny eggs. He stared at them, mesmerized that the entire life force of each egg was contained in something so abstract. Something only he could see.
How many of them would grow up just to be tortured in the same ways Witt had been? How many of his fellow kobolds had already been killed for amusement?
A fresh wave of anger pulsed inside his chest. With a snarl on his face, Witt set off to find Hux.
He passed several kobolds along the way to Corvin Mountain. Most of the kobolds he passed were low-level farmers or miners with barely one hundred health points. Had they been killed by some hero to end up back in Murkwell this early in the day, or was he just being paranoid?
Anger powered every step as Witt marched toward the mountain. He’d never had a quick temper. By all accounts, Witt was friendly and charming, but as his brow furrowed and the patch of cool calming ice rested on his shoulders, he found that it comforted him.
He refused to be a victim any longer.
Chapter Six
Witt shifted through bouts of anger and amazement as he followed a well-traveled dirt road that led from Skullheyden to Corvin Mountain. He could turn on his ability to analyze living beings and items at will. When the hovering bars over a crowded street became too distracting, he turned them off to focus on his plan.
His world had forever changed, and he would do his best to make sure no other kobolds suffered at the hands of the heroes. To get started, he would need to talk to the strongest kobold he knew, Hux.
Hux was the most powerful kobold in Murkwell, and the only mage. Every day, he traveled up to Corvin Mountain, where he would defend the pass from giant wolf spiders as they attempted to take over the road. Failure not only meant that they could attack the city, but they would devour the unattended eggs in the hatchery if they made it to Murkwell.
If anyone would know what to do, it would be Hux.
Something bumped into Witt, drawing him from his thoughts and knocking him to the ground. As a kobold, he was constantly in danger of being trampled by larger beings.
“Easy there, little one.” A massive hand extended from the blue minotaur hovering over Witt. “You don’t want to get stepped on.”
Fear pulsed through Witt as he pulled his dagger from his belt and pointed it at the minotaur, causing the towering hero to recoil. “Stay back,” he snarled, shoving the blade upward. There was no way he was letting another hero put their hands on him.
The minotaur raised his hands and took a step back. “Easy, now. I was just trying to help.”
“I don’t need your help,” Witt spat as he crawled to his feet, never lowering his weapon.
A second hero, a female human wearing a flowing gown, grabbed the minotaur by the arm. “What’s gotten into him? Isn’t this the same kobold that buffs us outside of the dungeon on the other side of the city?”
The minotaur rolled his eyes. “Suzie, that’s racist. They don’t all look the same. The dungeon kobold has always been nice to us. I don’t know what’s gotten into this one, but let’s just leave him be.”
The duo turned and left, and Witt finally released the breath he had been holding. He wouldn’t be fooled by their false niceties. His heart thundered in his chest. That was a close one.
For the rest of his journey, Witt
kept his focus on those around him, steering clear of the many heroes that were journeying into the mountain. Corvin Mountain was home to several dungeons and quests, so the roads leading into the mountain were always packed.
Witt silently seethed as he watched the heroes walking around without a care in the world. One of them carried the carcass of a large wolf over his shoulder as he headed back toward the city. How many of them had to worry about being killed just for existing?
A group of three orcs hurried past, and Witt caught the tail-end of their conversation.
“We’re supposed to help this kobold mage defend the pass. There’s a loot drop that should help me with my next potion, but we need to hurry before he leaves his post for the day.”
Witt increased his pace, following the three orcs. After a while, they came upon a wooden sign that pointed to Machmuller Pass. The three orcs left the main road, venturing onto a dirt trail that led deeper into the mountain.
Witt let them go ahead before continuing on their trail, careful not to be seen.
The green-skinned orcs were lumbering creatures as they ventured down the narrow path. With broad shoulders and thick thighs, they crunched branches with reckless abandon, uncaring of who or what might notice them.
Witt, on the other hand, moved almost silently. He walked on the tips of his toes, carefully avoiding branches and leaves. Centuries of their ancestors sneaking around to avoid death had made the kobolds experts at becoming unnoticed. This inevitably led to the occasional rotten apple that would venture down the path of becoming a thief or rogue.
An explosion from further up the path caused the orcs to take off running. Witt followed in close pursuit.
As he crested the hill, Witt found Hux with his staff extended, a wall of flame blocking the path in front of him. The three orcs came to a stop next to the mage.
Hux turned to the orcs. “Valiant heroes, the pass is under siege by a pack of wolf spiders. I cannot hold them alone. Help me defeat the foul monsters and you shall find yourself greatly rewarded.”
Valiant heroes. Witt snorted in indignation. They would probably stab Hux in the back as soon as the quest was over.
“We accept.” The tallest of the three orcs pulled the axe strapped to his back and held it at the ready.
The other two took a fighting stance slightly behind him. Although they were dressed in similar garb, it was clear that each hero had a different role. The orc to the right held a massive bone in the same manner as Hux’s staff. The one to the left wielded a pair of twin daggers, though they would have been swords in Witt’s hands.
The flames of Hux’s wall began to fade, revealing the monstrous creatures on the other side.
Spiders larger than Witt clicked their pincers together, and one of the orcs took a step back. Hair vibrated on the spiders’ furry legs, sharp talons dug into the earth, and a collection of milky eyes gazed back at them.
The fire wall faded and the spiders charged down the mountain pass. Hux hurled a fireball from his staff, hitting the frontrunner in the face. The blast singed the fur, revealing a grotesque form underneath.
The axe-wielding orc rushed in, swinging his weapon with enough force to slice through two legs. The beast toppled to one side, black ichor spurting from its shortened appendages.
While the orc hacked away, several spiders leapt over their fallen comrade, launching themselves at the other two orcs.
The orc on the right raised his bone scepter and the tip glowed purple. A loud crack formed in the mountainside and stone broke away, falling and crushing one of the wolf spiders. Its legs curled up as its abdomen exploded in a spray of black jelly.
The dagger-wielding orc suddenly moved with much more finesse than he had on the journey here. Almost like a switch had been flipped. He dodged the claw-tipped legs of the wolf spiders, spinning and slashing, painting the ground with streaks of black all the while Hux pummeled the spiders with fireballs.
Several spiders now lay dead, but more appeared on the pass.
The icy patch on Witt’s neck grew as he watched his kinsman helping the heroes to grow stronger. Every spider they killed put them one step closer to hurting his people.
They should all die. A streak of cold shot down his spine.
If an opportunity presented itself, then Witt would make sure they didn’t complete the quest.
The orc mage seemed to have an affinity for earth magic. He continuously toppled rocks from the mountainside and drew stalagmites from the earth to pierce the spiders from beneath.
Witt suddenly remembered his ability to see their stats and focused on the heroes. His suspicion of the mage was confirmed. He could also see that the axe-wielder was a barbarian, and the one with the daggers was a rogue.
Surprisingly, though, they were only level six. Hux, on the other hand, was level eight. If he could win Hux to his cause, then they could likely take them on.
Before he knew it, Hux and the orcs had defeated seven of the monstrous spiders. At level six, they had been fairly evenly matched. The barbarian and rogue orcs had taken quite the beating and sat at fifty percent health as the final wolf spider, a level seven boss, stalked toward them.
This spider was much larger and covered in gray-tipped fur. A toxic-looking substance coated the pincers that clicked in its grotesque mouth.
The orc mage summoned a rock slide, but the boulders bounced off the boss’s hardened carapace barely doing any damage.
The barbarian cursed. “This is going to be tough.”
A violent scream tore through the mountainside as the orc mage was hit with a glob of acidic spit. His health bar rapidly dropped as the acid burned his green skin.
Excitement flared through Witt and his hands shook with anticipation. This was his opportunity. If he waited for the perfect moment to strike, he could take out one of the heroes while they fought the boss spider.
The rogue and barbarian split apart and charged in. The milky eyes of the spider divided to both sides as the orcs tried to split its attention. While the orcs rushed in, Hux cast a fireball that exploded on the spider’s abdomen, singeing more hair and revealing a shimmering carapace much tougher than the other spiders’.
Witt slowly crept toward them, a dagger in both hands.
A massive leg pinned the rogue to the ground with a thud, sending his daggers soaring through the air. One of them clanked off the mountain and the other stabbed point-down a foot in front of Witt.
He put one of his daggers away and pulled the weapon from the earth. Using his Strong Hand ability, he was able to wield what would normally be a two-handed weapon with one arm.
Chaos reigned around him as the barbarian and the two mages fought to save the rogue’s life. The claw-tipped leg had drawn blood, and pressed deeper into the rogue’s chest with each passing second.
Serves him right. A dark laugh settled inside of Witt.
He was feet away from the orc mage when the barbarian shouted.
“We’re almost there! Hit it with everything we’ve got!”
A flare of energy pulsed through the barbarian. Steam radiated from his skin and his muscles bulged with renewed vigor. His swings grew more intense as rage flooded his veins.
The orc mage raised his bone scepter into the air and for a moment, he stood still. The tip of the scepter flashed bright blue and a chasm ripped through the pass. The hind legs of the spider fell in, loosening its grip on the rogue.
Hux summoned a wall of flame in the new-formed pit and the spider’s health trickled down more and more as the arachnid struggled to climb free.
The barbarian leapt into the flaming pit after the monster. His increased regeneration negated the flames that engulfed the spider below him.
While the battle raged on, Witt seized his opportunity. He raised the stolen sword overhead, ready to strike the unsuspecting mage.
As he brought the blade down, a final death scream escaped the spider, and the mage hurried forward, leaving Witt swiping at air.
Hux turned as the sword clattered against the ground. “Witt? What are you doing here?”
The three orcs turned to face him.
“I, uh.” Witt searched for an explanation. Now that the battle was over, he had squandered his opportunity. He lifted the sword. “I found this down the path.”
He forced a smile and walked over to the orc, handing him the weapon. The rogue ignored Witt, equipping his weapon and downing a health potion before returning to Hux.
The kobold mage greeted the orcs with a smile. “Thank you for your service in defending the kingdom from dangerous threats. You’ll find your rewards among the corpses.”
The orcs rifled through the bodies, collecting hairy spider legs and a mana crystal from the boss. They took their rewards and disappeared back down the path, talking amongst themselves and not sparing a second glance at Witt or Hux.
“What are you doing all the way out here?” Hux stood next to Witt. “You’re a long way from the dungeon.”
A scowl crossed Witt’s face. “We need to talk.”
Chapter Seven
Hux’s black eyes pierced into Witt. “I don’t believe it.” He shook his head before walking over to the edge of the path that provided a sweeping view of the valley below. There was a steep drop from where they stood, several hundred feet of mountainside with exposed boulders and remnants from trees that once grew there before a rockslide had toppled them into the valley. “When kobolds die, we are reborn in the hatchery. This is the way it has always been. If what you say is true, then what would be the point of all those eggs?”
Witt sighed. “I don’t know. The eggs are real. I’ve seen the life that resides in them, but I know what I have experienced. What I have seen. I get the feeling that the heroes aren’t here to help right the world. This is a game to them. One where we pay the price.”
Path to Villainy: An NPC Kobold's Tale Page 3