Welcome to Wednesday Writing

I decided to mix it up during the week and offer some fiction writing in addition to a Word of the Week. (Yes, my adult ADHD has me, so the stories might jump around a little.) For the last two weeks, I’ve been using the daily writing prompts on a site called Writing.com to flesh out some of my fantasy characters. Notably, the halfling cleric I play in our D&D campaign. The Daily Flash Fiction contest gives me either a sentence to include in the story or a list of three words. I then have 24 hours to write an original story of no more than 300 words.

Without further ado, I present to you Skrie Tripfoot, halfling, Trickster cleric of a Luck Goddess in the land of Everine.

Conflagration

Fire blazed through the Jaunty Traveler as Skrie pushed herself tight into the small, brick-lined cavity in the back of the root cellar. The young halfling lay curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down her face, hands tight against her ears, unable to drown out the roar of the conflagration outside her niche. The hot air burned her lungs, and she remembered the cloth in her pocket.

Her father’s last words played through her mind over and over, “get ta safety, lass, the root cellar, like we practiced.” With that, he nudged the child toward the stairs. Skrie looked back as she passed the threshold and watched as her father took the two-headed axe off the wall from behind the bar. Two mercenaries stood in the doorway, swords drawn. A third stood behind them, holding a torch.

“This is the end, halfling,” said the biggest of the mercs as she threw a vial of lamp oil on the ground at Janna’s feet, splashing the halfling with the viscous liquid. At the same time, the wiry man in the back tossed the torch into the puddle. Her parents looked so small as her mother screamed and scrambled out of the way, a fraction too late. Skrie’s mind whirled as the scene played through her mind over and over.

The last two days had been a nightmare. First, the handsy and drunken soldiers that had found the quiet tavern. Then, this morning, Delora’s mutilated body was discovered in the alley behind the inn. And now this. Skrie’s thoughts turned to revenge as the faces of the raiders burned themselves into her brain.

No, the girl thought to herself, as her terror transformed to blazing anger. This is the end of YOU, murderers!

3 thoughts on “Welcome to Wednesday Writing

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