This month at my local writer’s group meeting, our writing exercise involved story cubes! It was my first time getting to attend in a few months due to health, and I was super excited to be able to attend. We always do some sort of writing exercise, and this time, the group leader used Story Cubes.
3 cubes were rolled: One to represent the hero, one to represent the hero’s goal, and one to represent the obstacle. How you interpreted these and used them in your writing was up to you. The dice rolled were:
Your hero: A monkey
The goal: Cloud with rain
The problem/obstacle: Pagoda
And because I used Story Cubes a lot to keep me going when I was writing Westkings Heist, I immediately thought of Tahl. I had 5 minutes to write something down, and here’s where I ended up.
You can scroll down to read this little vignette, and feel free to leave a comment and let me know what you think!
Maybe Tahl deserves more stories?
Bright laughter rose from the people below and Tahl paused mid-step. The poles for the circus tents were little challenge; he’d mastered climbing the tall pines that framed the Empire’s capital city years ago. He held fast to the pole with one hand and leaned back, letting his other arm dangle free as he glanced down. “What are they laughing about?”
He hadn’t been to the circus since his childhood, before his father had disowned him for his failures in the Academy. Seeing the tall poles—and the acrobats that had inspired him to learn to climb—had brought back a rare good memory, however fleeting. The laughter had been fast to dash it.
“They say you climb like a monkey,” one of the circus workers called back.
Tahl squinted. He wasn’t sure what a monkey was, but he was no stranger to the comparison. As a self-taught acrobat and a master thief, he’d grown used to being called a squirrel.
One of the foreign workers pantomimed the animal for his benefit. It was less than flattering, and Tahl decided he liked the squirrels better.
“They want to know how good you are at climbing,” the worker provided, and the men below nodded in agreement with the translation.
Tahl glanced skyward, to the gray clouds that gathered above the strange peaked tents and promised rain to hamper their work and slick everything with mud. “Wait until the storm starts, and I’ll show you.”