Bron had placed the small body onto the wagon and stared at it for a moment. The stillness of the gnome was strange. His life had been full of death and chaos since he could remember. Sometimes it seemed as if blood had stained his skin more often than water had washed it clean. He had seen people fall beside him in combat before. However, this was back in his days with the orc clan that had birthed him. He had not cared much for those who had gone out of their way to make him feel unwelcome. Since his exile, he had worked alone until the dwarf had hired him in Neverwinter. Traveling with these others now was a new experience. After a few battles, he had a grudging respect for their abilities.
Of course, he had not respected the gnome. Even now he could not remember his name. He had called him “halfling” because it had annoyed the gnome originally. The little man had seemed harmless enough. In a world where Bron sorted things into whether they were a challenge or not a challenge, the gnome had been classified as “no challenge”. Bron did not have much experience with magic besides a single warlock in the clan who was lazy and the Witch. The gnome had been largely ineffective in the use of his magic previously.
That changed in the most recent glorious battle. In the midst of battle, the gnome warlock had stayed in a very heated battle. Bron had faced off against a strange barbarian goblin. However, the gnome had cheated him of his victory by magically turning the goblin into a pile of glitter. It had been shocking. Just hours earlier Bron had cut a goblin in half lengthwise and that had filled Bron with joy. In comparison, the transmutation of the goblin into glitter was deeply wrong. After a brief pause, the battle had begun again and Bron had been brought low by a bugbear. It was Bron’s first bugbear. He awoke again in time to see the gnome get savagely murdered by the bugbear.
The human who had promised them gold had waved his arms over the body but Bron knew it was over. The gnome had ceased being a person and was now a thing. A thing that Bron had carried out of the cave and placed on the wagon. The gnome was dead but he had left his mark on the party. Bron and most of the others had been covered in glitter in the battle. Bron had tried to wash it off in the stream but it would not be removed yet. It was like being haunted by the gnome’s ghost.
Of course, Bron’s thoughts did not dwell on all of this for long. In reality, all of that had passed through his head for only the briefest of moments. He felt a little sympathy for the gnome but that was tempered by the joy of finally finding the challenge he had been seeking. This would make him stronger. Anyway, he had only known the gnome for a few days. It was a shame that he was dead but he would shed no tears for the warlock.