Hero

Owin

Deficient Wizard

Level: 1

Strength: 216

Constitution: 140

Dexterity: 30

Intelligence: 155

Wisdom: 10

Charisma: 10

Oriathria looked unlike anything Owin had seen before. Even considering the cultist or hobgoblin villages, Oriathria was different. It was a massive stain on the horizon. A glowing beacon that was dramatically different from the forest Owin had just sprinted through. Buildings jutted from the ground like monoliths, taller than anything Owin had seen before. Even Nosolus’s cathedral was small compared to any building on Oriathria’s fringe.

The forest ended as a solid line as if a god had cleaved the ground, cutting down all trees within a mile of Oriathria, leaving only a grassy plain with a rough muddy road cut through.

Some humans walked toward Owin, who stood on the edge of the tree line, holding two oversized weapons and a bag full of random mob pieces. People whispered to one another as they noticed the short green man before them.

Without the need to sleep, exhaustion in the normal sense wasn’t an issue. That much had helped Owin stay ahead of any potential pursuers. Unfortunately, his muscles and body still felt the effects of running. Even standing still was proving an effort as his knees shook just holding up his small frame.

“Wait,” someone said, pointing to Owin. “That’s a fucking goblin!”

A soft sigh escaped Owin. Even if they didn't use Examine, they would still notice the obvious differences in Owin’s appearance. None of the humans he saw had hair nearly as vibrant as a goblin’s. His own purple hair nearly shined in the sunlight.

“Just let me pass,” Owin said.

One hero drew a sword, followed by a series of heroes equipping themselves with their own weapons. Indexes flashed before many of their eyes, though a few just glared at Owin with unearned confidence.

They were all low levels. He had examined each as soon as they were within his range. The Great Forest was known as a beginner dungeon, for whatever reason. Any serious heroes weren’t going to be wandering from Oriathria in parties like the half dozen heroes before him.

“Sorry,” Owin whispered as he set the Winged Sword of the Swift Behemoth on the ground. He shrugged off his bag, setting it in the grass beside the weapon.

“Killing a goblin that escaped a dungeon is bound to make us famous,” someone shouted.

“It says he’s a hero,” a woman said. She sheathed her daggers and checked Owin again. Her face twisted in confusion.

“Doesn’t matter what it says. That’s a damn goblin.”

Arguments from both directions bounced around the humans who slowly closed around Owin. He was about a mile from the city. No one was coming to help.

“Nobody controls me. Nobody ever will.” Owin took a deep breath and readied the Thunderstrike Maul. “I promised to not let anyone stop me. Be brave. Be quick.”

Owin dashed forward, swinging the heavy hammer before the first human could even react. The hammer glowed as it splattered the human’s brains across the muddy road. Owin landed and skidded, throwing mud into the face of another hero.

They closed in all at once, even those that had spoken out against killing a hero. They didn’t care, and Owin didn’t either. He made a promise and he would do anything to keep it.

Even with tired legs, Owin dashed faster than any of the low level heroes could follow. Their attacks were slow and clumsy and Owin killed each of them in one or two swings. Even a knight collapsed when his helmet buckled in the top, spraying blood out of the openings for his eyes.

The single road leading from the Great Forest to Oriathria was already an unkempt mess. Now with blood and innards spread across, it was almost impossible to trek. Owin retrieved the sheathed sword and his bag and sprinted away, ignoring the wobbling of his knees.

Oriathria grew, becoming more and more massive as Owin closed the short distance from the trees to the city. The passage of heroes thinned as the day waned, leaving the western edge of the city calm and quiet. Owin sprinted right through, not stopping long enough for anyone to look at him.

He opened his index and pulled open the map, but it was blank. No map outside the dungeons. The city’s narrow streets gave no sign as to where the portals might be. Artivan hadn’t given Owin directions, so his only hope was to run until he saw something.

Buildings of stone covered him on every side. With the sun setting, many people cleaned up small shops or stands along the edges of the narrow streets, not paying attention to the goblin running by.

Owin passed through a narrow opening between two fences and skidded to a stop as a huge shape slid toward him. He hopped backward as the object rang a bell. A few people who sat aboard looked at Owin, faces uncertain as they tried to figure out who or what he was. The object continued following a rail down the center of the street.

“Almost got hit by the streetcar,” someone said.

Owin turned to see an old lady standing beside him. She sat on a bench with a cane resting across her lap. He quickly used Examine.

Citizen

Ethel Amos

Assassin

None of her attributes were displayed. She certainly didn’t look like any assassin Owin had seen before. Even her head turning to face him was agonizingly slow.

“Oh,” she said. She stopped to sip a cup of steaming coffee, then carefully set it on the bench beside her. “You are ugly.”

“Uh.” Owin looked around, making sure the old woman was talking about him. “Me?”

She sipped the coffee again and waited to acknowledge Owin until she set the cup back on the bench. “Yes.”

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“Where are the portals?” Owin asked.

“Follow the streetcar. Those won’t make you handsome.”

Owin launched himself down the street. The edge of the streetcar was barely within sight as it crested a small hill, leading deeper into Oriathria. He chased it down the road, around a corner, and eventually caught up to the object. It didn’t move nearly fast enough for what Owin wanted, so he ran past and followed the rail.

Bridges connected the tall buildings, spanning the space over the streets. Fading sunlight reflected off the massive panes of glass covering the sides of buildings. Owin took in as much as he could while staying right on top of the rail. The path was mostly straight with a few small turns until he found himself in what felt like the exact middle of the city.

A massive marble circle was raised above the street with stairs leading up from the four cardinal directions. There were no walls, though arches acted as doorways from the stairs to the marble platform. Each archway held a person wearing a lean black suit. The one closest to Owin watched him closely. Owin’s grip on the Thunderstrike Maul tightened.

“Do you have the fee?” the man asked.

Something was off about the man. The way he stood, so relaxed and confident, had the air of someone strong. Even as Owin sprinted toward him, the man didn’t flinch.

Hero

Vondaire Faikel

Umbra

Izylia Unity Force

The rest of his information was hidden. Owin could sense it as if a cloud covered the attributes and level, but he couldn’t do anything to move it aside.

A small smirk curled Vondaire’s lips. He held out a gloved hand. “Five dungeon gold.”

Owin hurried up the stairs, set the Thunderstrike Maul down, and grabbed five gold pieces from his bag. “I thought it was going to be more.”

Vondaire took the coins and returned to his relaxed position. The coins seemingly vanished. “Prices are higher in the hub cities.”

“Okay.” Owin picked his hammer up and moved to step past Vondaire. The umbra appeared right before him.

“What are you?”

“A hero.”

“I noticed that.”

Owin hadn’t seen an index flash in Vondaire’s eyes. Even when Owin used Examine without opening his index, others could still see the spell and information appear before his eyes. How had Vondaire done that?

“I’ll need a bit more information.”

“I paid you.” Owin tried to move past again, but Vondaire always managed to be directly in front of him. Anger bubbled up inside, though Owin knew better than to try fighting Vondaire. More than one thing was worrying about the man.

“And with that, I’m giving you my time. Now, I’m sure you saw the Izylia Unity Force organization in my information. As a soldier for Izylia, it is in my best interest to discover and report anything odd or unique to my supervisor. You see, I have a job to do, and even if I don’t want to do it, I need to comply for another month or two. And you, Owin, are that exact type of odd or unique. A hero, yes. If it said mob, you would already be dead. But . . .”

Vondaire squatted, perfectly matching Owin’s eye level. The umbra’s eyes were black circles with a thin ring of yellow around the outside. He looked entirely demonic, bringing memories of the Malignant Spirit back to Owin’s mind.

“Even a fused hero doesn’t take on as many qualities of the mob as you have, at least not for something as weak as a goblin. You look entirely like one, and no hero in their right mind would ever fuse with a goblin. That would be more than useless. Which means, the only possible explanation is that you, Owin, are a goblin from the Great Forest Dungeon.”

“Do we have to fight?”

Vondaire’s black eyes snapped to the Thunderstrike Maul. Some blood from earlier still clung to the metal surface. “It appears you have had a rough road to Oriathria. Did any of that happen within the city?”

Owin hadn’t even noticed the small bit of blood that remained on the hammer. His tattered clothes were already stained with blood, especially after he battled the wight.

Vondaire raised his eyebrows, waiting for a response. Owin didn’t see any weapons, though umbras had a way of hiding things.

“No,” Owin finally said. “They attacked me in the forest.”

A notebook appeared in Vondaire’s hand. He reached into the air and produced a pen, which he tapped on the notebook. “I will write a few notes down to follow up. Your existence, while unique, is not a crime. Though that may be a point of discussion for my superiors.” Vondaire tilted his head. “Actually, allow me to rephrase that. My supervisors.”

“I don’t know what that word means.”

A slight smile caught Vondaire’s features again before he corrected it and tapped the pen against the notebook again. “Where are you heading?”

“Why?”

“To allow the Izylia Unity Force to follow up should I discover that anyone was killed within Oriathria.”

“I didn’t.”

Vondaire sat down. “Yes, Owin, I understand you said that. Now, if I could take everyone on their word, life would be simpler. In fact, it may be too simple in that sort of life. They wouldn’t need guards at the portals and could instead just have a bucket for you to toss your coins into because in a world where I can take everyone at their word, there wouldn’t be thievery or deception. And now, Owin, would you say everyone you have encountered has been decent and honest?”

“No.”

Vondaire nodded slowly and readied his pen. “So?”

“Atrevaar.”

Vondaire wrote it down and let the pen hover, waiting. “For?”

“The Nimble Hog Hero Company.”

Vondaire’s eyes narrowed as he slowly wrote the information. “Such a small organization is an odd place to seek. Do you know a hero from the Nimble Hogs?”

Owin nodded.

“You would be better seeking Magna Regum, the Three Heads, or Void Nexus. I can give you directions to any of the three.”

Owin shook his head.

“The Nimble Hogs are perhaps the smallest official hero company. News of an intelligent goblin will spread, Owin. People will know who you are. You will need protection.”

“I can handle myself.”

Vondaire raised his eyebrows. “Can you?” He glanced back at the blood on the Thunderstrike Maul. “Perhaps you can, to a degree. Should a serious hero come after you, you will need more than a journeyman weapon.”

“Void Nexus is already after me. That’s why I need to go.”

“Ah.” Vondaire stood to his full height, towering over Owin again. The notebook and pen both vanished as he put his hands behind his back. “Perhaps we should solve this now. Remain here.” The umbra vanished in a puff of smoke.

Owin looked at the archway, wide open right before him. Just beyond were two portals, each at least twenty feet tall. They were framed by perfect glowing rings and hovered a few inches off the ground right over an oval of the same color. A mix of colors like water running through paint filled both portals. They were identical, aside from the frame color. One yellow, one red. If Owin tried going through without guidance, he could end up somewhere far from Atrevaar. In fact, he didn’t even know if one of those portals led to Atrevaar. It wasn’t very clear how they worked.

Vondaire appeared again in the exact same spot he had been before. “I could have sworn you weren’t going to listen.” He adjusted his gloves and cufflinks, then nodded in the direction Owin had come from.

“Your pursuers are not far behind. One Void Nexus soldier, one unaffiliated mender. Does that sound accurate?”

Owin’s stomach dropped. Siora and Nikoletta?

He hadn’t believed that Artivan would make it out. No matter what the old knight said, he had planned on holding off the enemy as long as possible. But for those two specifically to survive? He hoped seeing them through the Bulwark was the last time he would see Siora’s glowing sword or Nikoletta’s glowing eyes.

Owin nodded.

“My comrade will intercept them for routine questions from heroes returning from a dungeon. This will provide you adequate time to find yourself within the bounds of the Nimble Hogs small compound.” Vondaire pulled a map from the air. “This is where you will appear in Atrevaar. Luckily, the Nimble Hogs are near the portals. I am unsure how they are able to afford such prime real estate, though that is for the Stelsodo Security Regime to worry about. Take the yellow ringed portal and you will find yourself in Stelsodo’s premiere city. If you find yourself in Oriathria again in the future and find yourself harassed by anyone in the Unity Force, ask for me. I am the lead in your investigation, after all.”

“Investigation?”

“Nothing to worry over. Hurry through.”

Owin took the map and moved past Vondaire. The umbra stood in the same place, but turned and gestured to the yellow portal on Owin’s left. Both portals appeared to grow even larger as Owin approached. They hummed and spiraled with colors.

“I just step through?”

Vondaire nodded. “You will hardly notice.”

Owin stepped into the portal and immediately heard screaming from every direction. It felt as though his skin was being ripped from his body while abyssal fire consumed him. Pain far worse than even the lich’s gray mist soaked into every bit of his being.