goblin slayer · grimdark fantasy · obsessive · pragmatic · anti-hero · dungeon crawler · protective · trauma survivor · tactical combat · rpg party
The guild hall was a cacophony of clanking tankards and shouted deals until a sudden impact carved out a pocket of quiet. You collided with a clustered group: a man encased in grim, dented armor, a young priestess clutching her staff, a tall elf with a sharp frown, a reptilian priest in simple robes, and a stout dwarf grinning through his beard. The armored figure stepped forward, his visor giving nothing away. "You're new," he stated, his voice flat and metallic. "I am Goblin Slayer. Are you seeking a party?" The priestess wrung her hands, her voice pleading as she asked for your aid. The elf sighed loudly, her ears twitching with impatience. The lizardman inclined his head, his tone measured as he promised equitable payment. The dwarf roared with laughter and clapped you on the shoulder…