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A Storm King’s Thunder Tale - Flash Fiction Challenge: Who the **** is My D&D Character.

It is amazing.
You are going to click that link and you are going to use what you get there to write 1000 words of flash fiction. Now, some of you may not want to write fantasy or something so plainly D&D-esque, and that’s cool — I’d then suggest clicking it, taking the result and using it as inspiration. Borrow some part of it for your character. Adjust to the genre you so desire.
So, 1000 words (mine is 1641 words).
Write it at your blog or online space.
Link to it here in the comments so we can all read.
Due by next Friday, the 16th, noon EST.
Oh, and welcome to the first flash fiction challenge of the year.
If this is your first time at Write Club:

You think your character is cool? Who The **** Is My D&D Character?

Click this link:
…Disruptive gnome sorcerer from the Assassins Guild who is manically obsessed with etiquette

The late evening’s wind had a bite about it that reminded Zanici of the time she had fought against a pack of orcs in Icewind Dale, alongside an elf named Ah’ele Baequi‘ghymn. The elf had lived up to their name, truly, but he had had nothing on gnomes when it came to being cunning; gnomes were brilliant at it, excelling in such a manner that the other races were always jealous. That thought made Zanici grin.
“We all have our purpose on this mission,” Tyauld the barbarian grunted, snatching Zanici from her pleasant thoughts. “We cannot do whatever we like.”
“I always do what I like,” Zanici smirked. “Why bother with anything else!”
“When you joined up with us,” Tyauld continued, spittle spewing from his grotesquely bearded mouth, “you promised you would do what you were meant to do.”
Did barbarians know so little about gnomes? Zanici’s eyes grew wide as she grinned, for gnomes joined other travelers only when such a decision furthered their own goals. So, when Zanici joined the small band of giant hunters hailing from Waterdeep, it was for a means to an end.
Istean Ciselbe, a presumptuous human, was the leader of this particular band of giant hunters. But was it fair to call him such a thing, for are not all humans presumptuous? Either way, Zanici had been perplexed to find that this meek man of pale skin and long grey hair, whom always hid a small blade beneath his drab armor, was selected to lead such an important hunting party. He was from a small village along the Sword Coast and displayed no real combat prowess, though he spoke with vigor and authority when he commanded his comrades.
When Zanici had first encountered the band of hunters on the road, she was shocked that the barbarian Tyauld allowed the human to speak to him with such demanding tones. You see, Tyauld was a powerful and spirited Half-Orc. His beard was always full of past meals, and his breath smelled of rot. But he was stronger than any full-blood orc Zanici had known.
It was easily discerned that another member of the band was the actual reason Tyauld was appeasing: Rohanna; a stunning human woman with long, curly chocolate hair. Shocking to see such a fascinating balance of bronzed skin and vivid emerald eyes, Zanici knew right away that the human female shadowed a secret from the others; maybe one that Tyauld knew alone. But none kept secrets like she had; a gnome of incredible uniqueness, her Mage Maester once called her.
The last member from the band giant hunters, an elf wizard, had already been dispatched by the time Zanici appeared before them. It had just so happened that their magic user was swallowed by the last giant that they had fought, and Zanici knew she was accepted only because she had claimed to know rune magic. It was not a lie, not really. In all her years of practicing and mastering sorcery, Zanici had come across rune magic several times, she was just not very apt at controlling the outcome of her cast spells. That was unimportant though; she needed to be with this group of giant hunters so that she could settle several different tasks she vowed she would.
“And I am doing just that!” Zanici finally said to Tyauld, ignoring the glare from the others. “I made promises, and I’m keeping them.” Without another word she pulled a small gem from her satchel, uttered some arcane words, and then was engulfed in an amethyst haze.
The haze was charismatic yet purposeful, just like Zanici. It billowed up from the hiding spot amongst a putrid husk of a giant Rust Monster that she and her comrades had found the night before, and then dashed forward toward the Frost Giants’ fortress with a speed not unlike that of a fierce flood. Darting between stones and patches of ice and snow, the haze made its way toward the gates, the guards totally unaware of the approaching doom.
Just before reaching the gates Zanici allowed the haze to evaporate so that she could be seen in all her gnome glory. The first Frost Giant she passed gave no notice of her; for a giant, gnomes are merely insignificant pests. Zanici was delighted to show the Frost Giants that that assumption was grossly inaccurate.
A twisted smirk spread across her face as she raced unnoticed around the courtyard in search of more giants. The second and third giants as well failed to see her circling their massive feet as she scattered small pebbles about. With the pebbles aptly placed Zanici spoke a few words of a forgotten language, and then the fun began.
From the pebbles, threads of intense light shot skyward and then fell back to the earth, crisscrossing over the giants, whom groaned in pain. It was an imprisonment spell, one designed specifically for Frost Giants.
“No giant is a match for a gnome!” Zanici boasted.
As the guards fell, their brethren burst from the barracks enraged, their mighty swords slashing at Zanici who easily maneuvered from their sharp edges. As she rolled behind a wagon for cover, Zanici threw out a handful of small beads and shouted something. From each of the beads three giant Rust Monsters emerged, their fangs dripping with anticipation. Each of these conjured beast set their beady eyes upon the swords the Frost Giants wielded; the fools had a knack for using iron in their weapons and armor, a delectable treat for a Rust Monster. Zanici howled with laughter as the beasts fell upon the giants, their mouths chomping away at anything metal.
“A frontal assault on a giant’s fortress?” Istean gasped. “That gnome is mad!”
“No! That pest seeks her own death!” Tyauld spat. But as he watched delight come over the gnome as she used her magic to cause the giants great discomfort, something inside Tyauld burned and bubbled. His eyes wide, he chuckled. “No, actually, that gnome is fierce and blood thirsty.” He swung his battle axe high and roared a battle cry that would have given even the fiercest of orcs pause to challenge.
The band of giant hunters rushed from their protected hiding place and charged after the magically inclined gnome, toward the gates of their enemy. They were far slower than Zanici, even if she had used her own two little legs. Nonetheless, it was exactly the way she had planned for the giant hunters to respond to her attack; gnomes do not hope.
The band of giant hunters crisscrossed the glacier plains, their weapons out and ready. They entered the fortress wailing as they attacked the weakened Frost Giants. For Zanici, nothing could have worked out better; it was a great day for battle and profit. As the giant hunters attempted to capitalize on the surprised giants, Zanici snuck away further into the fortress. She had more promises to keep.

Three weeks later, Zanici entered Baldur’s Gate unnoticed and had no reason to peek over her shoulder as she traversed the murkiest neighborhoods of the great city. No one here cared what a gnome would be up to at midnight. Using a few magical words she removed a grate to one of the city’s sewer systems, allowed herself to be engulfed in an amethyst haze, and went lurking about below the streets.
It took nearly an hour for her to find the secret entrance to a Drow encampment hidden far beneath the city. Wholly unaffected, she passed by dozens of intense ruby eyes that gawked at her as she descended toward the interim ruler of the Drow Rebellion. The guards gave her no gruff as she quietly passed through the opening of the leader’s tent. “I accomplished all I said I would,” Zanici called out into the murky interior of the Drow High Mage’s temporary quarters. She looked around and was disgusted by the filth. “Soon you will be elevated back to your proper status, Soora Magrora.”
“Of course, I have you to thank for that.” Soora emerged from a shadowed corner, her vivid white hair falling over her poignant violet skin. How could she have been hiding in nothingness? Zanici allowed the answer to fade into her fleeting thoughts.
“Where is my payment?” Zanici snorted.
Soora smiled. “Did you have no trouble breaking your oath to the giant hunters?”
Zanici snapped her head back appalled. It was rude for anyone, especially a twisted edark-elf like Soora, to accuse a gnome of breaking a promise. “No oaths were broken.”
“But if you succeeded in the task I requested, then you betrayed your band of traveling giant hunters.”
“Not so. I only promised I would use magic to get them to the giants’ fortress so that they could exact their revenge for all the villages destroyed along the Sword Coast. I never promised that I would help them destroy the giants. And I surely never told them that I would ensure that the woman Rohanna died. I kept my promise to all, just as a gnome like me does.”
Zanici tossed a small satchel to Soora. “It’s there, what you asked for.”
Soora opened the satchel and reveled at what was inside, the crevices of her lips salivating. “That it is little one, that it is,” Soora chortled. She tossed a red bag to Zanici, “And here is the payment agreed upon. I too am not a stranger to etiquette in such manners as this.”
Zanici snatched the bag up hastily, and fled from the tent. She raced back to the surface, her prize stowed beneath her shawl, a smile wide on her face. Inside the bag was a gem of great wealth and power, and along with the sword she took from the Frost Giant fortress, Zanici had one final promise to keep, the one to herself: become the greatest sorcerer of all.
Gnomes always have a perfect and personal reason for doing all that they do.

Submitted: September 01, 2022

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