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Gnome Fighter Character Sheet

Ah, the first proper post after returning. Let’s get to it.

Many people underestimate the gnomes, thinking them easy to push around due to their small stature. But as I’ve often pointed out the gnomes can be just as capable as any race. And the gnome warrior Nakano Shinobu is going to prove that as this post’s NPC.

Pathfinder 1e Character Sheet: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r0jrFY8J10pWJYzSpKhu1gzG5GzFNaUSEjy1HZH0pd8/edit?usp=sharing

Adventure Hooks: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1r0jrFY8J10pWJYzSpKhu1gzG5GzFNaUSEjy1HZH0pd8/edit?usp=sharing

I originally described Shinobu as a “ronin,” which for those who don’t know was the term for a samurai in feudal Japan who no longer had a master. Now, samurai is a class in Pathfinder but that’s not what we’re discussing today. Shinobu is a fighter by class and focuses on assisting other gnomes in defending themselves. Whether training gnomes to defend themselves, leading local soldiers, or just fighting off a small group of brigands himself, Shinobu is always working to keep his people safe. This makes him readily available for whenever and wherever you might need him to show up. Additionally, being a higher level NPC he can realistically be a DM-ex-machina to save player characters who are in trouble. Perhaps he could even serve as someone to teach a PC character a particular feat or fighting style.

However, his only real goal is the safety of his people, so he won’t join any cause that doesn’t involve them. Bandits attacking a human town? Not his problem. Oni having taken over an elven fortress? Nope. Dragon sinking ships and disrupting trade? Nah. It would take a lot of convincing to get Shinobu to see a non-direct threat as something to concern him. Of course, helping gnomes will get you points with him, but it takes time and effort to get him to actually trust non-gnomes. He’s not prejudiced, it’s just literal centuries of witnessing his people be attacked, persecuted, or abandoned.

Finally, there’s the Pathfinder gnome issue: the need for wonder. However, while it could be an interesting plot hook, you don’t need it to make it work for your world. Just toss it out the window if you don’t like it. I’ve written gnomes with this in the past, but of course you can do things as you want. In a world where it does happen you could have Shinobu pay the player characters to defend a gnome town or enclave while he travels somewhere new. It could be the basis of an entire arc, waiting for the renowned ronin to return. If this supernatural need doesn’t exist, you could just explain it as Shinobu needs to be gone for another reason. In fact, there’s a prime example in the adventure hooks. Regardless, I hope that you enjoy my rendition of a high-level gnome fighter. While I’m currently only making character sheets for Pathfinder 1st edition, I am contemplating trying to make them for 5e D&D as well. I’ll see if I can make it happen. For the time being, it’s good to be back. Until next time!

#the daily npc #daily npc #npc #Non-player character #Non Player Character #rpg #ttrpg #role-playing game #Role Playing Game #Roleplaying Game #pathfinder #Pathfinder RPG #pathfinder 1e #gnome #fighter #gnome fighter #character sheet #npc character sheet

I made this mini on Hero Forge of my gnome fighter named Mullenkenhiem. No one in my D&D group wanted to say such a long name, so she ended up being called Molly.

I got the mini in the mail a few weeks ago, and on Thursday I finally painted her. It was hard to get the details but I’m happy how Molly came out.

#d&d #d&d miniatures #miniature painting #hero forge #yes my cat wanted to be in the photo too #dungeons and dragons #gnome #gnome fighter #5e

I couldn’t get this piece to do what I wanted so I tried something new instead

also, I completely forgot that this man has freckles

#gnome fighter #open commissions #d&d #gnome #artists on tumblr #bit shadycampaign #my art #trying a new style like 'what if i just abandon all my forays into detailed painted work and just do this from now on'#i like… won't probably but what if‚ you know?

The Coppervist family were well known for their craft. As toymakers, their whirligigs and doodads were loved by children and adults alike, and many a holiday’s savings went towards their wares, to clockwork birds that actually flew when wound, minute dancers that balanced perfectly on tiny feet and kaleidoscopes that dazzled with the colours and patterns of new universes. To create joy, was the Coppervist motto. And so Zola’s parents were relieved to find that she loved making things, just as they did, as her siblings did, as all her gnomish ancestors had. She was given notebooks to scribble ideas in from an early age, pieces of clock work and cogs to fit together as she pleased and as much encouragement to create as her siblings had been given. And she did! And she loved it! It just happened to be great fights and trebuchets she drew in the margins of her books and from the cogs and clockwork, miniature slingshots that could fling bolts across the room and she had almost created, at the age of 12, what could be considered a very rough repeating crossbow. Her family had smiled at her offerings somewhat nervously. Zola thought it was the loss of her grandfathers finest hat, a casualty when he had surprised her whilst working on her newest project, that had been the last straw for the rest of them. The hat, a fine red felt decorated with berries and vines, one moment on his head, the next bolted to the door behind him, mugs of cocoa still in hand.

(The hat never recovered.)

There was an intervention then, the memory of it was easy to reach in Zola’s mind, the feelings of shame and fear as her entire family had sat her down in their small kitchen above the work shop and explained how things were. Coppervist’s create joy, her mother explained, emphasising with her hands, gesturing upwards. What these are, her father had said, knocking a small work roughened fist against her stuffed notebooks, filled with notes and revisions and calculations, are weapons. And weapons kill. Theres no joy for the dead, Zozo. He said this and sat back in his chair, the conversation over, the others nodding sagely, sadly. For what argument could there be? Zola would think later. How often had they heard of deaths outside their town, people they saw no longer, happy faces disappeared at the end of a sword or a crossbow? Her family had been lucky, since moving to this town full of big folk, there had been no need to travel, no need for defence. No disappearing faces. And so there had been a few years of quiet in Zola’s sketchbook. Quiet contemplation, learning her family trade at her mother’s side, learning the basics, learning to make whirligigs and doodads that made children laugh and it was almost enough. But that exultation, that rush she had when she had released that first bolt? Gone. But after that talk, Zola had begun to look closer at the ones who passed through their town, the wanderers. Bruised and scratched and telling stories of moments when they almost didn’t get away, the moments the tides could’veturned. She heard more and more of these stories, especially once coming of age and being allowed her spare time in the alehouses. Not to drink, at least not heavily. But to take in these people, their stories, their pain. And it began with a repeated traveler in the local pub, one she had spoken to a fair amount, a female orc fighter whose crossbow was on the blink. Damn thing almost cost me yesterday, she drawled, fiddling at the release with her meaty hand. Don’t know whats wrong with it. Zola had nervously offered her skill and when the orc had, eyebrow raised, handed her the thing that was almost the gnomes height and definitely 2 times her weight, Zola found joy in her work again. In 20 minutes, the crossbow was in the Orc’s hand again, good as new, the release clicking finely and each joint perfectly tuned. The orc had laughed heartily, slapping the young gnomes back in delight, spilling only half of Zola’s mead in the act, and asked what sort of payment she wanted for such fine work. Zola did not pause in her reply and said only Teach me. It took a year for Zola to gather her courage, between her normal work at home, her sparring lessons with her new gruff tutor Gorsha who taught the gnome to use her size and wits in a fight, and her secret side work fixing weapons and tinkering new ones for the passing adventurers, and tell her parents she was leaving to go adventuring. To reduce their terror she did not tell them of the fighting and the lessons and the crossbow she had hidden with Gorsha, only that she wanted to find inspiration in the world, find Joy in it. The memory of her mother, pulling her daughters forehead to her own, smiling through the tears in her eyes, joyous that Zola was finally getting it, still brought tears to her own. No shame though, no fear this time, She was going to find joy in the world, that was true, and Zola Coppervist was going to protect it." Random roll commission for @JayNotJunior, so fun!!

✨(i do commissions!/kofi/redbubble)✨