Reddit Writing Prompt: An NPC in an RPG realizes that he is nothing more than a pawn in the grand scheme of the gods. But instead of accepting his role he rebels, vowing to become the hero the realm truly needs.

My whole life I wasted away in this village, content to watch as innumerable adventurers bolted past me. Every once in a while, I was graced with their attention, star eyed lads and lasses running up to me and demanding I set them on a quest. My answer was always the same; bring me ten wolf pelts, and they would be duly rewarded. I knew not were this compulsion originated, and in time my meagre home became piled high with the stinking skins of beasts.
For near a decade I sent them out on that same quest, rewarding them with my own hard earned coin. At first it was a trivial thing, no more than a mild nuisance. But in time, my collection of hides grew so great that I was no longer able to move around my home. I tried my best to dispose of the skins, but every time I left the door I was accosted by another adventurer. In desperation, I approached my neighbour, the local smith. He had been churning out cheap swords and mediocre shields for as long as I could remember, yet few bought his stock. More often folks would dump their worthless belongings on him; plant fibres, foodstuffs, and junk. I assumed he too would be fed up with this exploitation.
I approached him, calling his name and patting him on the back. He didn’t so much as blink, continuing to hammer away at a shapeless piece of metal on his anvil. Again, I called to him, but again he ignored me. It was when an adventurer approached that he finally began to speak, giving the same greeting as he did to everyone who approached him. Shocked, I sought out he innkeeper, hoping to find some assistance. My efforts were met with similar results.
It was then that I overheard two adventurers talking, both standing on one of the inns tables. The first, a warlock by the look of things, stated that a “quest giver” was broken, and that the “devs” needed to fix it. He went on to explain that he had amassed ten wolf hides, and on his return found the quest giver gone. I realized he was talking about me.
In desperation I fled the inn, and approached every member of our town. The guard shouldered past me as I tried to stop him, continuing down a worn path in the grass. The cooper stood stiff as a board, face first in a pile of crates. Even the woman I had lived with, who I considered my wife, didn’t even look up from her tailoring.
In despair, thought to take my own life. I urged the adventurers that passed to slay me, yet none stopped. Enraged, I drew my dagger and charged the nearest of their number. My blade dug deep into him, passing through armour like it wasn’t even there. I swung again, and again my swing met no resistance. Amused, the adventurer hopped up and down, mocking me. He spoke in an abbreviated mess beyond my understanding, and drew his spear. All he needed to do was plunge it into my heart.
Yet he stood still. Again, he let loose a chain of profanity laced nonsense. All I could distinguish was “devs”. The same Devs mentioned at the inn.
From that day on, I sought out every scrap I could on these Devs, who’s designs had left my friends in a stupor and me unkillable. Adventurers still came and went, demanding quests in return for rewards. Instead of pelts, I asked for books of lore, history and science. Few returned, but those that did provided me with a treasure trove of knowledge. I would send them off without reward, and they would cry foul, calling me broken and bugged.
In my searching I found a number of notes referencing these Devs, accompanied by numbers and references to vast, world spanning events known as “Patches”. Spells would be tweaked and weapons adjusted, even entire continents shifted at their whim. It was clear I was dealing with beings of ludicrous power, puppeteers that pulled the strings of a grand performance. 
The adventurers who passed seemed immune to this control, possessing a will of their own. There was no rhyme or reason to their actions, no greater power moving them. They where free, as was I. I vowed to use this power to free my brethren, not just in my village but around the world. I would accost adventurers as they passed, promising immense rewards for the items of power they possessed. Staffs of elemental might and rings imbued with the power of the light entered my collection, and in time I armed myself with the greatest treasures in existence. Laden with items of immeasurable power, I set off to seek out these Devs, and free the world form their vile machinations.

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