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Fiction

"Who the F@#& is my D&D Character?" by Brad Nelms

Brad Nelms

Terrible Minds put out a flash fiction challenge to write a story based on the Who the fuck is my D&D character site. If you are unaware of what that is, you load up the site and it generates a race, class, and short background of a character you can use for a D&D campaign. It is really fun, so follow the link and give it a try. Here is what I got.

"Proud half-orc warlock from a village with no tavern who doesn't believe in magic, ever"


 

“Randy!” Gorlock’s gruff voice boomed out over the small village.

A lanky, pale figure came running around the corner of a mud hut. He wore flowing brown robes that tangled around his feet and sent him tumbling to the ground in front of the large green orc. Randy struggled to his feet, slapping great clouds of dust from his filthy robe as he did.

 

“You are late for your warlock training Randy. You were supposed to meet me by the lake so I could teach you how to bend the power of water to your will,” Gorlock said.

“But master I-” Randy began but was silenced by a wave of his teacher’s hand.

“What was it this time? Cobbling shoes again? When will you stop with that foolishness and except your role as a warlock?”

“How can I be a warlock? Magic isn't really real. Like, you don't seriously expect me to believe that do you?” Randy said laughing.

“What! Magic does exist!” Gorlock raged.

The air around his hands burst into flames. He turned away from his apprentice and thrust his hands forward, sending gouts of fire onto a nearby hut. Orcs came screaming out of the hut's doorway rolling on the ground to put the fire on their bodies out.

“See!” he shouted, turning back to his student.

Randy shrugged his shoulders. “All I saw was you burn down a hut for no reason. Anyone can do the same thing with flint and steel.”

Gorlock eyes burned with anger. He grabbed Randy’s wrists, turning his palms upward.

“Repeat after me damn you!” He then grunted several mystic words in the old orc tongue.

Randy rolled his eyes and repeated them. Bright balls of violet-colored energy sprouted into existence on the tips of his fingers and floated into the air between them before winking out like snuffed candles.

“You can perform magic yourself and still you do not believe?”

“It's all just a bunch of mumbo-jumbo,” Randy said, “There is just no solid proof.”

Gorlock threw up his hands. “I curse the human blood that runs through your veins. If your fine ass human mamma didn't make me promise to look after you while she went looking for your deadbeat orc daddy, I wouldn't have to put up with this. “ He shouted, stomping in a little circle in front of the half -orc.

“What does my being half human have to do with you thinking magic is real?” Randy asked

“Rrragghh!” cried Gorlock. “You are making me crazy!” 

He stormed away, past the smoking hut and smoldering orcs.

“This village needs a tavern!” He shouted and tried to slam the flap of his hut, but swished gently into place over the opening.

Randy watched his master go, a look of puzzlement on his face.

“Maybe I should have just played along with his crazy rantings about magic.” He said to himself, kicking at the dirt.

He began walking back to his own hut to cobble another pair of shoes when he was struck with an idea.

“I know! I will find something really cool in the forest to give to Gorlock! Then he won't be mad at me anymore!” He shouted.

He skipped back to his home. He fetched a bag and the flopping ‘warlock hat’ Gorlock had given him and set off into the dense forest. The trek was a going to be a difficult one. He did not know what he was looking for but was sure he would know it when he found it.

He was hot and the burlap ‘warlock hat’ itched his scalp. Randy pulled it from his head and wiped his face. Gold coins began to spill from the hat onto the ground at his feet. He shrugged, tucking the hat into his leather satchel and continued onward. The sun was high overhead and Randy was parched. He leaned against a large rock, pulling the hat from his bag he wiped his brow again. More coins fell from it into the dirt. His pointed half-orc ears perked up. He heard the babbling of a stream. It must be close if I can hear it, he thought to himself and went tumbling toward the noise.

 

He burst through the bushes, nearly falling to the stream. Overjoyed, he knelt at its bank to lift the cool waters into his mouth. No sooner had the water touched his lips, when he heard a voice.

“You who drinks my waters are pure of heart and possess great power within you,” the babbling of the brook had transformed into a piping feminine voice. A slender figure emerged from the water at its center.

“We're you just lying in the stream? How long have you been doing that? ” Randy asked, cocking his head to one side.

“I am the guardian of these waters. I have a gift for you. It is an item of great magical power.” it replied, ignoring his question.

“Geeze, what is with everyone lately?” Randy said to himself. But, not wanting to seem rude he smiled at her and nodded.

“I grant you the Stone of Everlasting Waters,” She said.

A stone that looked like solid water appeared in Randy’s hands. “Let your pure heart guide you always,” the figure said and disappeared back into the water.

“You are going to get all prune-y if you lay in this stream all day,” he called after her. Getting no answer, he shrugged and stuffed the stone into his bag. He put on his hat and headed for home.

“A water spirit gave you this? That is incredible!” Gorlock said a swell of pride in his chest.

“No, I found it in a stream with some weird girl in it. Stop putting words in my mouth.”

“That's it! I am going to build a tavern so I can drink away your bullshit!” Gorlock shouted and stormed out of his hut.