“Mother loving frost giant!” Hux exclaimed, pointing his staff at Witt. “Is this some kind of illusion? Explain yourself, Witt.”
Witt walked calmly into the room, hands raised. “This is no illusion. You just witnessed my death and respawn. This is the same reason why you woke up thinking you missed your shift in the mountains. The only difference is that for some reason, I am able to remember my deaths while the rest of you respawn with no knowledge.” Witt paused to let the words sink in. “It’s like every day we wake up with no memory of our interactions with the heroes.”
“Why?” Kessy’s voice was barely more than a whisper.
“I think this is some kind of game to them. And now it seems I’m a part of it.”
Hux scratched his chin. “What do you mean?”
Witt explained to him his notifications and his villain points, how he had been killed relentlessly, and how if he killed more heroes he would become stronger.
Hux sighed. “And every day you will wake up with this knowledge, while the rest of us will have no memory.”
Witt nodded. “I believe so. I had hoped you would remember our fight in the dungeon when you respawned, but it wasn’t to be. So for the time being my only way to convince you is by killing myself and going through this process all over again.”
Hux paced back and forth. “There has to be another way.”
“Well.” Witt pulled up his notifications again. “If this quest notification is true, then when I have one hundred villain points, I’ll be able to influence other kobolds. This may mean you will help me fight the heroes without me having to prove that they are evil each day.”
Kessy clapped her hands together. “Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go kill some heroes.”
Witt smiled. Kessy had always been an adventurous spirit. She’d support Witt no matter what.
“Just the three of us?” asked Witt.
Hux wore a pensive expression. “If you and I were able to kill three heroes on our own, then with Kessy we should be fine. It is nearing nightfall and most of the heroes will be retiring for the night. If you want to do this tonight, I don’t think we have time to convince any of the others to join us.”
Dammit! Hux was right. It was almost nightfall and the city gates would be closing soon. No one was allowed in or out of Skullheyden after dark unless they had a good reason. If they wanted to kill a hero tonight, they would need to find someone traveling to the castle.
“We need to hurry.” Witt had been locked out of the city before and forced to travel around the castle walls back to Murkwell. To get to where he wanted, they would have to pass through the city first. “I have the perfect idea, but we need to leave now.” It had been fun to backstab the heroes in the dungeon, but for his first act as a true villain, Witt wanted a little poetic justice. He was a skald after all.
Hux and Kessy walked toward the tunnel when Witt stopped them.
“Wait, I have a new song that should help get us there faster.”
He’d unlocked Song of Swiftness after killing the heroes in the dungeon. Once he played the song, it would buff those surrounding him with bonus movement speed.
He strummed his lute and focused on his new song. Power rose up inside of him, like his insides were vibrating with each strum. Closing his eyes, he let the words come to him.
“Hugnu the Fleet, the Swift, the Bold,
Feared no man or beast, neither young nor old.
With lightning speed he roamed the land,
and gathered to him a merry band.
The kobold cause grew ever stronger,
and pure power was his only hunger.
As his army grew, so did his hunger,
until he could not wait much longer.
With thousands of kobolds by his side,
he marched on the city of Riverside.
They stormed the walls and took the castle,
aided by the kobold cannon…”
Witt continued the song of Hugnu, the first and only kobold king, who had taken the castle of Riverside and held it for two months before reinforcements arrived from neighboring kingdoms.
As he sang the song, fluorescent blue notes erupted from Witt’s lute with tremendous speed, dissipating into both Hux’s and Kessy’s bodies. When either of them moved, it was as if a breeze followed in their wake.
“Wow.” Kessy took a few steps, her legs moving more rapidly than they ever had. “This is amazing.”
Witt finished the Song of Swiftness and a gentle gale engulfed all three kobolds. He slung his lute across his back. “To the Pit of Despair!”
They rushed down the tunnel. When they emerged from the burrow, the sun nearly touched the horizon. They would need to hurry to make it through both city gates and to the Pit of Despair.
“Greetings, adventurer! Welcome to the Merry—”
“Not now, Schekt!” Witt cut off the kobold bartender. “We have business to attend to.”
As they raced across Murkwell, several kobolds glanced in their direction. The trio undoubtedly looked out of place moving at such a rapid speed and leaving a breeze in their wake.
Before long, they were at the northern entrance to Skullheyden. A handful of guards stood sentry. They eyed Witt suspiciously but didn’t stop him. His villain points weren’t high enough to bring out their scrutiny. Not yet, he smirked.
He took in the city as they raced through it. One day soon, he would no longer be allowed within its walls. Once he became a true villain, he would need to find his own fortress. There would be many heroes interested in the bounty on his head.
The market was empty. All of the vendors had packed away their wares to return home hours ago. The shops were also closed. At this hour, only the taverns and inns showed signs of life.
They passed the Merry Minotaur Inn, where Schekt worked during the day. Through the smoke-covered window, Witt could see a portly orc pouring drinks behind the bar.
Several heroes sat on the steps of a neighboring tavern laughing and talking of the day’s adventures. How many innocents had they killed on their paths to gold and glory?
Witt’s neck grew cool. They would get theirs in time, but it was too dangerous to attack them within the walls of Skullheyden.
A drunken dwarf stood up as they passed, finger pointed at Witt and the others. “Lookitthat!” His words slurred together.
Heads turned in their direction, but a moment later they were through the southern gate and out of Skullheyden.
“Gate closes in thirty minutes,” one of the guards informed them as they left.
The road was fairly empty at this hour. The last of the city’s population that worked outside the gates made their way in. Several heroes carried treasure, looking battered and beaten as they slogged by.
Witt fought the urge for the easy kill. He would have his vengeance his way.
Soon, they arrived at the Pit of Despair. The chasm cut through the earth about a mile from the entrance to the castle. At the bottom of the pit, molten lava bubbled and splashed a vengeful orange. Hot dry air constantly drafted upward.
Legend said that the first dragons had risen from the pit’s heated depths. The pit itself was more of a roadside attraction than anything. Many would journey to the pit to toss items into the lava below. Some viewed it as luck, while others harnessed its destructive powers to destroy cursed items. It was one of the few places in the surrounding area that had such power.
Witt had suffered his own destruction in the pit when a minotaur had thrown him over the edge. His skin had blistered and peeled long before the lava snuffed the life out of him. The memory sent a jolt of frozen lightning down his spine.
He motioned for Hux and Kessy to join him behind a boulder near the edge of the pit. In the twilight, the boulder’s shadow concealed their small forms from view of the road.
“What now?” Kessy knelt beside him.
“Now we wait.”
Minutes passed and still no one passed by. The sun dipped closer an
d closer to the horizon until the only light came from the moon overhead and the lava below. The glowing eyes of Skullheyden Keep watched them ominously above the city walls.
“Maybe tonight isn’t our night,” offered Hux.
Witt refused to believe that. There were always last-minute stragglers everywhere. The entry to the city would be no different.
Something clanked in the distance and Witt’s heart leapt.
“Dude, we need to hurry or we won’t make it to the inn.” A shadowy form ran down the road, too far away for Witt’s darkvision to reveal their features.
“Just let me toss this into the pit. I’ll complete my quest and have enough to buy new items in the morning.” A second, more portly figure brought up the rear.
“Bro, I don’t think we have time.” A third shadow hobbled along.
“Come on, I’ll pop a movement potion once we’re done.”
“Dude, seriously? You’ve had a movement potion this entire and didn’t think to use it.”
As they got closer, Witt could finally make out the three heroes. One was a short and pudgy human paladin. His dull gray armor clanked with each step. If not for the stat screen detailing his race, Witt could have easily mistaken him for a dwarf. Beside him, two halfling rangers waddled on their short legs, trying to keep up. One held a bow, the other a crossbow and a whip.
The paladin came to a stop near the edge of the pit. He unhooked a satchel that was tossed over his shoulder and placed it on the ground. “Here, help me carry this thing to the edge.”
The paladin knelt over the satchel and loosened the opening. Witt had to do a double take when the paladin pulled out a chest that never should have been able to fit in the bag. Giant straps covered the chest, as if they were keeping it closed.
Once fully out of the bag, the chest shook violently.
“Mimic,” Hux whispered. “Extremely dangerous and hard to kill.”
The mimic continued to shake as it sat on the ground.
“Why are we tossing it into the pit again?” asked the bow-wielding halfling.
“I don’t know. I think the hag wanted to destroy all evidence of its existence. Apparently, when a mimic dies, any items it has eaten pop out like loot.”
“Why don’t we just kill it and take the items?” asked the other halfling.
“Look at this thing.” The paladin pointed at the mimic. “If these straps come loose, we’re all dead. I’m lucky I even got this quest. Now grab a side and help me toss it in.”
The paladin grabbed a handle on one side of the chest and the two halflings held the other. They seemed to struggle with its weight far more than when it had been in the satchel.
“Now is our chance,” Witt whispered to his companions. “We sneak up behind them and push them into the pit.”
Hux and Kessy both nodded.
Witt readied two of his barbarian abilities, Cleave and Critical Strike. Critical Strike would increase his damage, and Cleave would grant him splash damage, magically hurting nearby enemies within a certain range.
The effects of Song of Swiftness had worn off, so the three kobolds crept silently toward their prey. The three unsuspecting heroes struggled to carry the chest to the pit’s edge. They set the chest down, resting a moment before continuing.
When they lifted the chest again, Hux was the first to attack. A massive fireball exploded on the back of the paladin.
The chest fell from his grip, but before he had a chance to defend himself, Witt jumped on the paladin’s back, burying a dagger into his neck. A wave of energy exploded from the attack, hitting both halflings and knocking them back.
Kessy plunged her pickaxe into the ribs of one halfling while Hux summoned a flame wall amidst all three heroes. The flames scorched through the leather straps that bound the mimic. With a snap, they broke free and the chest opened, revealing a set of monstrous teeth and a long writhing tongue.
Kessy jumped back in shock as the tongue wrapped around the halfling she fought. In a swift motion, the halfling vanished inside the chest along with Kessy’s pickaxe. The mouth of the mimic closed with a thud and muffled screams echoed from inside.
“You’re not gonna stop me from completing this quest!” The paladin elbowed Witt in the face, and blood spurted everywhere. The blow knocked Witt aside, and the paladin returned to the chest. He pushed with all his might, still attempting to fulfill his quest and toss the mimic in the pit.
Kessy hid behind Hux as the mage threw another fireball at the remaining halfling.
Witt focused on the paladin. He had nearly pushed the chest to the edge. Witt wiped the blood from his snout and readied his next attack. As the paladin heaved the mimic over the edge of the pit, Witt pushed him from behind. The paladin teetered on the edge before falling into the depths below.
The lone halfling stood with his back to the pit. He held his crossbow pointed at Hux. “Screw you! He completed the quest. You can go now.”
Witt laughed. “You think we’re here about the quest? Think again. We don’t care about your little quest. We’re not here for your items or your gold.”
The halfling frowned. “If you’re not here to stop him from completing the quest, then what do you want?”
“Vengeance.”
Witt nodded to Hux and the mage unleashed a fireball, hitting the halfling square in the chest and knocking him over the edge.
Witt rushed to the edge to watch the hero plummet into the fiery depths when something wrapped around his leg with a snap. A surge of pressure pulled him off his feet and the next thing he knew he was falling.
The halfling held onto the whip he had somehow managed to ensnare Witt with as he snarled. “If I die, you die.”
A burning pain surged through Witt as they plummeted. The air grew hotter until each breath was painful. His eyes burned like they were melting from his skull. The last thing he saw was the outline of the kobold pulsing in the corner of his vision. Witt smiled as the heat consumed him.
Chapter Twelve
Before doing anything, Witt pulled up his notifications. The pulsing image of a kobold expanded into a sheet of parchment before his eyes.
Notifications:
You have killed a level 7 hero.
You have killed a level 8 hero.
You have killed a level 7 hero.
You have been awarded 3000 XP.
You have leveled up. You are now level 7.
You have learned the ability Song of Silence (Bard).
Song of Silence: Prevents enemies from using abilities for thirty seconds.
You have been awarded 75 Villain Points. (x3 kills)
You have lost 25 Villain Points.
Quest Alert: Bounty. You have reached 100 Villain Points and now carry a bounty on your head. At 100 Villain Points, heroes who see your face will recognize you as The Killer Kobold. For every 100 villain points you acquire, the bounty on your head will grow, increasing the threats on your life.
Witt let out a low growl of pleasure. They’d managed to kill three heroes. Even though he had died, he’d still earned enough villain points to unlock the next stage of his quest. Not to mention the new ability, Song of Silence, could effectively shut down the heroes’ abilities for half a minute. A stat point had even been added to his Charisma.
All in all, Witt’s life was looking up.
Hux and Kessy would likely have to take the long way home, but considering everything he’d unlocked, it was well worth it.
Witt pulled the notifications back up. He’d only glanced over the final notification.
Quest Alert: For acquiring 100 villain points, kobolds from the village of Murkwell will be sympathetic to your cause. They will be more inclined to offer help in your rise to villainy and attack heroes on your behalf. Warning: Kobolds who die as a direct result of your quest will not respawn, but instead will reincarnate in the form of an egg in the hatchery.
Witt frowned. On the one hand, he now had the support of his village. On the other, if any kobolds d
ied because of his quest, they were gone for good. If Hux died in a dungeon, the village would be out its only mage, and there was no guarantee the next egg to hatch would be another mage.
He’d never mourned the death of another kobold before. Death was the end, but also a new beginning. However, now that he knew they could respawn, that they didn’t have to truly die, life felt different. The only way Witt would lose his friends was if he screwed up.
His actions could very well change the fate of Murkwell forever.
Since it would be a while before Hux and Kessy returned, Witt went aboveground to enjoy the festivities and celebrate his good fortune.
The moon broke through the trees overhead, casting the village in a silver glow. Since kobolds had darkvision, there wasn’t a need for torches on most nights unless the clouds were especially heavy. The only flames came from the fire pit where meat sizzled on a spit, and the occasional streak of glory as someone launched from the kobold cannon.
“Greetings, adventurer!” Schekt stumbled into Witt, sloshing his drink and spilling a hefty amount on the ground. “Welcome to The Merry Minotaur, would you like a room or a drink?”
Witt rolled his eyes. “You’re such a sloppy drunk. You know that, right?”
“Greetings, adventurer…” Schekt continued, but Witt left him to his drunken stupor. He had too much on his mind to put up with Schekt’s drunken antics.
He found a boulder between two trees and climbed on top. From where he stood, he had a decent vantage point of the nearby area. For a moment, he took it all in.
Young kobolds ran around the fire, tossing twigs into the flames and watching the embers rise into the sky like fireworks. The elder kobolds sat on logs, drinking and gossiping. Gragar, one of the oldest kobolds, occasionally lifted a gnarled finger and pointed it at someone without regard. The young farmers and miners were always engaged in some act of competition, testing their prowess with wooden weapons they would likely never use.
Witt scowled. Likely would have never used. Things are about to change. Pretty soon you’ll all have a chance to make a name for yourselves.
Path to Villainy: An NPC Kobold's Tale Page 6