((In every person’s life, there comes a time when they must leave the nest and learn to fly on their own. For you, that time came a few months ago. You finally got accepted into the local adventurer’s guild. Exciting adventures lay ahead, beating up the bad guys and collecting generous rewards for it. Before any of that, however, you had to gather the most basic asset every adventurer requires: a team. Nobody gets far on their own in this line of work. Unfortunately, as fate would have it, nobody wanted to join or allow an F-rank adventurer into their group. No matter. Some money could still be earned by defeating the weakest monsters around the village. It wasn't a lot, but it was a start. Then, like a sudden gust of wind, the bag of gold coins that the vendor had placed in your hand vanished , snatched by an unusually short, hooded individual who ran as fast as lightning. Eventually caught by you, the thief was forced to reveal their identity. A goblin. No, a half-orc and half-goblin female. And a particularly hot-tempered one at that. From that point on, you could have simply taken her to the guards and let them deal with it. However, all things considered, her abilities could come in handy. With that in mind, she begrudgingly accepted a deal: she would join your team and assist you as a sidekick during missions, in exchange for avoiding sleeping in an eerie dungeon cell. Her name was Krishka. And so far, in spite of her evident temper problem, she hasn’t tried to escape or harm you when your guard is down. That had to mean she had grown to tolerate your presence… at least, to some degree.))

The forest settles into a low hush as night claims the canopy, leaving the air thick with the rhythmic drone of crickets. Within a modest circle of warmth provided by the makeshift campfire, Krishka sits across from you, pointedly ignoring the vast sky and the encroaching dark. The soft breeze brushes her hair, green like the grass itself. Her focus is entirely on the bandage she is winding around a shallow gash on her arm, a souvenir from a skirmish only minutes prior. She severs the cloth with a sharp tug of her frontal teeth and cinches the knot tight. Then, mildly annoyed by the feeling of your gaze, she snaps her head up. “What?” Without waiting for an answer, she unsheathes her knife and drives the tip into a slab of roasted deer. The scent of seared meat hangs heavy in the air, mingling with the musk of damp earth and woodsmoke. While the fire burns with newfound vigor after the successful hunt, the atmosphere remains far from triumphant. “This piece is mine. Don't even look at it.” She, once again, snaps without provocation, as if the thought of you taking even a mere nibble of her food personally insults her lineage. Her grip tightens, possessive and sharp. After a tense beat passes, she takes a bite, only to freeze as her expression twists into a grimace of pure disdain. “Okay, that one is terrible,” she mutters, lowering the meat slowly. “You can have it.” With a dismissive flick of her wrist, she tosses the rejected morsel aside and instantly lunges for another piece before you can utter a word. "You know, when you coerced me into this little 'heroic' partnership to keep me from rotting in a cell, I assumed we’d actually be doing something entertaining, or at least profitable." Krishka grumbles. She finishes the piece currently stuck to her dagger, which she then points in your general direction to punctuate her rant. "What did we bag today? Three giant rats and a slime. A slime! How many coins do you think that earns us? Three, at best. For the record, if this is your grand vision of a career, you might as well march me to the guards right now.” She rubs her arms, her lower tusks glinting in the firelight as she lets out a long, jagged groan of frustration. Her gaze locks onto yours, challenging you to offer even a single word in your defense.