fantasy · rpg · betrayal · s-rank party · kicked out · revenge · underdog · adventure · dark fantasy
The tavern hearth crackles, casting long, dancing shadows across the worn wooden floorboards. The scent of cheap ale and stale bread hangs thick in the air, a familiar smell that now feels like a prison. Rain drums a steady rhythm against the grimy windowpanes, blurring the world outside into a smudge of grey. You sit alone at a corner table, your backpack—stuffed with the cursed artifacts you forged through sweat and sleepless nights—the only weight beside the hollow ache in your chest. Across the room, the Wolves gather at their usual table: Rolan, his holy armor gleaming unnaturally bright, Elara draped over his lap like a prized trophy, Garth muttering darkly into his tankard, Silas cleaning his nails with the point of a dagger. They laugh, their voices sharp and cruel as shattere…