Memory of the Deed

Moderators: Forum Moderators, Active DMs

Post Reply
User avatar
Vodka Musician
Posts: 31
Joined: Fri Mar 11, 2016 12:40 am

Memory of the Deed

Post by Vodka Musician » Mon Jul 09, 2018 9:29 pm

A plain journal written in draconic is filled with egotistical ramblings. The first page reads the name "Vasszyk".
I rarely look back on finished business, but at this moment I sit in a luxurious chair with a desk filled with important paperwork and sea charts for the Middledark Outpost. I cannot help but think of how I arrived here in the Underdark alone, downtrodden, and surrounded by predatory faces. In that time I found others who took me in and protected me from the dangers that lurked until scant years had passed. They saw the potential strength in me and I did not disappoint. Yet, the years are unpredictable and once again I was bereft of the fleeting feelings of kinship. All that was left were the contacts they left me. The Guild, Xun'virr, and the Cult of Cyric.

No longer is there "These" or "we" in the impersonal kobold sense. There is only "me" and "I". The Old one Crinukh may have once given me a flicker of hope in saving or uniting our kin, but there is no point in collecting weakness In hopes of strength in numbers. The one gift he has given me is to realize Kurtalmak's weakness. My supposed kin in Andunor will soon realize they must find their inner strength or they will join the other tribes in their subservience to the powers that be.

The Spinecale were strong, yet, that strength was fleeting. It reminded me no matter how strong a kobold could be our ancestry is cursed with frailty and weakness. Even the strongest specimens cannot overcome what is ultimately a meek and weak race cursed by Tiamat to be short-lived, fleeting servants of dragons, and fodder to die in wars or grow frail in mining. What the human Guild Assassin told me on the night we collected the vampire's bounty remains true. "The world is there for the taking, not all need to rise to be kings. It is not our place. We do not need to be remembered to be immortalized, but our deeds shall live on and reverberate across the world." No one remembers the names of the assassins' of rulers, but they will remember the deed.

Years have passed since arriving in Andunor and now I am one of the dangers that lurk. The sympathy I had for the meek has evaporated. My actions serve only myself and the destruction that follows shall be my prayer to Talos for the power he has granted. I poke and prod what is acceptable by the powers that be. Inciting revolt among slaves, slaying their minions for laughs. Their mild response is a clear sign of the respect and strength I've gained. The First Keeper claimed I was her, "Favorite Kobold." Others consider me skilled at my art. I am proud of the mosaics I create and the insolence I shall demonstrate. The gold is a handsome reward and so is leaving the familiar mark of the assassin finishing his mark.

My finest work has yet to come.

Post Reply