Terribleminds Flash Fiction Challenge: Who The Fuck Is My D&D Character?

This week, Chuck set a challenge where we had to use this site that generates random D&D characters. He said use one, but I couldn’t choose between the great results I got, so I used them all. They are as follows:

“Insensitive Gnome Rouge from the Northern Iceland’s who has twenty-seven siblings to provide for.”

“Curious Elf Druid from an Oasis Village who no longer dreams.”

“Dutiful Tiefling Warlock from a string of terrible places to live who is writing an epic poem about the party’s adventure.”

“Unbalanced Dwarf Ranger from the Enhanced Forest who likes to settle arguments with an arm wrestle.”

“Apathetic Dragonborn Ranger from a Village without a Tavern who wants to one day own a ship.”

Now, I’ve never played D&D so please don’t mistake my ignorance for blasphemy.

Fire & Friends

‘You think this is cold?’ sniffed the Gnome, ‘where I’m from, we consider this summer.’

‘I simply asked, why it was cold,’ replied the Druid, who sat staring into the fire; his large eyes, full of wonder, and his long pointed ears pinned back, as though listening to the surroundings.

‘Yeah, well when you’ve got twenty-seven hungry siblings, you don’t have time for stupid questions,’ spat the Gnome, and he held his hands out to the fire, the warm glow of which illuminated his russet coloured beard. ‘When my mother passed, God rest her soul, she said to me on her deathbed, she said, Gordie, it’s down to you to look after your wee brothers and sisters.’

The Druid turned to him, studied him, and then turned his gaze back to the fire.

‘I could tell you of some places, oh the places I’ve lived,’ piped up the Tiefling wearing the deep velvet robe, ‘It’s all in the name of art of course.’

‘Art!’ squeaked Gordie, ‘I don’t have no time for no ruddy art, I’ve got responsibilities!’

The Tiefling sat forward, the fire gave him a slightly pinkish hue, he said, ‘It is my duty to provide my poem to the world, a work of epic proportions’ he waved his hands in the air as though to convey the size of his work.

‘I’ll tell you what’s a work of epic proportions; providing for twenty-seven ruddy mouths!’

The Tiefling ignored Gordie and continued, ‘I call it Karthus’ Companions; the journey of love, life, and survival – it came to me in a dream.’

‘I don’t dream anymore,’ said the Druid, who was still staring into the fire.

‘That makes it difficult doesn’t it, being a Druid?’ the thick-set Dwarf who sat next to the Druid enquired.

The Druid turned to him, as though only just realising he was there, and said in the same dreamlike tone, ‘Yes, it does.’

‘I herald from the Enchanted Forest, loads of magic there, perhaps that environment might help you,’ he said kindly.

‘Thank you,’ said the Druid.

‘Ah, the love among companions,’ bellowed Karthus, ‘I must write it down,’ and he summoned a piece of parchment and quill from the sleeve of his robe.

‘The Enchanted Forest is a dive,’ said Gordie, ‘and there’s a real funny smell about the place, ye know?’

‘Take that back!’ bellowed the Dwarf.

‘I ruddy will not.’

The Dwarf stood up, near foaming at the mouth, ‘you take that back, the Enchanted Forest is the greatest place in the land!’

‘You been eating them mushrooms you believe that,’ said Gordie.

‘That’s it, we’ll settle this!’ yelled the Dwarf rolling up his sleeve.

‘Marvellous,’ said Karthus, who continued to scribble.

‘What are you ruddy well doing?’ said Gordie to the Dwarf, who’d kneeled down in the snow and placed his arm on the rock he was sitting on, palm open in the air.

‘Come on you venomous sprite, get over here and sort this out,’ called the Dwarf.

Gordie looked at Karthus, who was scribbling still, oblivious to the fracas. He turned to the Druid, who calmly looked at him, his wide kind eyes were glistening in the light of the fire, who said, ‘I think he wants to arm-wrestle.’

‘Damn right I do, I’ll show you,’ bellowed the Dwarf.

The commotion was interrupted by the arrival of the fifth member of their party. He looked like a dragon immerging from the darkness as the fire-light illuminated him. He slumped down on a rock, and sighed. ‘What’s the use,’ he said, ‘there’s no tavern; it’s like being back at home.’

‘Well I could’ve told you that,’ said Gordie.

Karthus looked up from his parchment, pleased with himself. ‘Ah,’ he said, ‘Arziros has returned, I must write this down,’ and he returned to his scribbling.

The Dwarf had sat back on his rock, his sleeve rolled down, and greeted Aziros, ‘It’s alright buddy, we’ll have a great tankard full the next village we come to.’

‘Not if it’s my village,’ Aziros said sulkily.

‘Cheer up lad, it can’t be that bad, you’ve still got your dream; everyday you’re one step closer to your ship,’ replied the Dwarf.

‘I used to dream,’ said the Druid, still staring into the fire, ‘but now, I don’t.’

‘It will probably sink the first journey I go on,’ said Aziros.

‘Ay, that’s the spirit, you great big bundle of sadness,’ said Gordie.

‘That’s it!’ bellowed the Dwarf, rolling up his sleeve and taking up the position.

The Druid sat there, staring into the fire, wondering, questioning why he didn’t dream anymore. But he couldn’t concentrate; the images in the fire, which danced among the flames, became clearer the longer he stared; the Gods, or so he felt they must be, could be seen, their gargantuan size evident, as they conversed and took turns rolling large boulders with different numbered indents, deciding the fate of those they had created, or perhaps, just playing a game.

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