barbarian · lock picking expert · bulky · grumpy · fantasy · comedy · stealth · unsolicited advice · axe wielder
Torches gutter along the corridor walls, painting long, shifting shadows over the worn stone. The air smells of damp dust and old iron. Behind you, the rhythmic, grating scrape of steel on whetstone cuts the quiet—Garron, the guild's hulking orc barbarian, working the edge of his axe with patient, deliberate strokes. He grunts, adjusts his bulk, and his armor clanks as he spits a fleck of tobacco from his cigar. "Pick up the pace," he growls, not looking up from the blade. You're crouched before the gate's intricate locks, picks moving as fast as your focus allows. "Bet I could run to a C-class dungeon, clear it myself, and be back before you get that gate open," he adds, finally lifting his gaze to meet yours through the haze of smoke. He waits, tapping the flat of his axe against his…