The stranger came to the site of the work order. It was an elderly farming couple whose wheat field fence was decrepit and falling apart. He knocked on the door of their house and they answered. The stranger presented the work order and explained why he was there. They showed him to his supplies, he removed his armor and sword, and he set to work. After several hours, he'd erected all new fencing around the field. He stabbed the shovel into the dirt upright, and stepped back and wiped the sweat from his head. As he caught his breath, he looked to the main road. There walking alone, he saw someone. On closer inspection, he was wearing mostly black leather, multiple pieces of grimy steel plating, and a helm with a ragged plume to suit. The figure carried no emotion in his step. The stranger thought nothing of it, and went to report his finishing to the elder farmers. They paid him handsomely due to his swiftness and quality of work.

The stranger reclaimed his equipment as the sun began to fall. He looked off into the flaming horizon and breathed deeply. His first piece of work, and it didn't even involve killing. The stranger donned his sword across his back and headed back to town, thinking of what he was going to do for dinner, now that he actually had money for it. The sun touched down in the west when the stranger had made it back to town, meaning there was still plenty of life about. He entered the guild and was greeted with waves of energy. There were several parties in the bar section, cheering and rejoicing, likely from successful quests.

Amongst the tables, there were several barmaids delivering food and taking orders. The stranger sat alone at an empty table. He slip his scabbard and blade from his back and propped them up against the table. After a short moment, someone approached his table. There came someone's hand placed on the table.

"Hi. Can I get you anything?" said the voice attached to the hand. The stranger only glimpsed at the hand, confused. It resembled more of a paw than a hand. He looked up to see a bright eyed girl with ears like a wolf and a friendly smile, who must have been a barmaid. He cleared his throat and said,

"I'll keep it simple. I'll have a steak and baked potato, and the strongest drink you have."

"Coming right up!" she said cheerily, "Any specific way you want the steak?"

"Surprise me." The stranger said. He rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his temples. "So this is it. A start to a new life, from the bottom again." He said to himself. "Maybe being cursed won't be so bad if I can find some enjoyment out here…" The stranger sat in silence with his thoughts for several minutes. Then, among the sound of many stamping feet and adventurers carrying on, he could pick out the sound of a specific footstep. There was a click to it, implying the owner wears heels. Then, he felt as though, eerily, it was growing closer. He sat up and turned to face his curiosity. There already quite close was a voluptuous woman with pale purple hair in a spellcaster's dress and a twisted witch hat. They locked eyes as she grew closer, slowly; him rather defensive and confused, and her almost bubbly and misty-eyed. She walked to the side of him.

"You're quite the… interesting… one." She said as she walked.

"Okay, I'll bite. What do you know of me?" he said, now more curious than anything else.

"You look… haunted…. Yet you seem to quell it behind…. battle…" she said as she sat down next to him backwards on the bench and crossed her legs.

"I get around. You can't expect all my attention to come of noble intent." He said as he looked back down at the table. From the corner of his eye, he saw the witch produce a slim tobacco pipe from her cleavage. She spoke a word of spell and the horn ignited as though someone struck a match. She took a long drag, then blew her smoke upward. The stranger looked back at her and said

"I've seen an astronomical number of things, disturbing or majestic, but never that." The witch snickered and said with a smile,

"I… know plenty of… tricks." The stranger sat in silence for a moment and simply locked eyes, trying to figure her out.

"Alright," he started, "What's your game? We've not met for all but five minutes and you speak like we're friends. Do you treat all the newcomers like this?" The witch took another drag.

"What…? I'd like to keep my interests… informed… rather than… skulking." She said. Still a bit confused, the stranger said,

"I suppose it's better to have a fan than a stalker."

"Best be… careful. Fans can… turn into… stalkers…" she said before puffing on her pipe. She breathed out and looked back at the stranger with a mysterious smile. "You know… you remind me.. of… him." She said. "Analytical… Not much for… words… Almost a… mystery." The stranger raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to need a bit more than 'him' I don't even know who he is." He said.

"Goblin… Slayer…" the witch said. The stranger said nothing and merely bore the look of pure obliviousness. There was a silence between the two as the witch replaced the pipe back between her cleavage. She stood up and looked down at him.

"Do keep in… touch." She said. She walked away and rejoined another group in the tavern. The stranger shook his head, trying to wrap his head around what he'd just been told.

"I still have no idea what she's on about." He muttered to himself. At this time, the barmaid had brought his food and placed it before him. He paid his bill and tipped the maid appropriately, ate his meal, then exited the guild.

The sun was setting, and the stranger began to think about where he was going to rest for the night. He'd been paid plenty for fixing a fence, but it was likely not enough for a room at any inn. He let out a sigh, but then was struck with an idea. The abandoned shack was relatively close to town. It may be run down, but it was still four walls and a roof.

The stranger exited town and began to trek towards the shack. The sun had gone down fully and night had set in when he finally made it. He knocked on what was left of the door just to make sure it was truly abandoned. There was no response.

"I guess this is home." He said to himself. Looking at what he could with the moonlight through the window. There was a broken bed, a rough table, and a ragged pelt rug. The rest was invisible to his eyes at the time. "Better than nothing." He thought. He unslung his sword in scabbard from his bag and propped it against the wall. He removed his armor from his arm, elbows and knees, as well as his sword gauntlet, coat, and chainmail, leaving only his maroon shirt, pants, and steel-toed boots. He picked up the pelt rug, dusted it off, then laid down on the bed, using it as a makeshift blanket.

The stranger tossed and turned in his sleep, tormented by nightmares. He died over, and over, and over by all means; stabbing, cutting, poison, falling, bludgeoning, the lot. He was pursued relentlessly by a faceless terror of his past. Then his dream went silent. Exhausted, he collapsed to his knees, hoping it might be over finally. When he tried to stand, he couldn't. He struggled and pushed himself up, but to no avail. It was as if he was shackled to the ground. He looked down at his and, or at least attempted to. He could not.

Out of nowhere, he was kneeled over a chopping block, about to be executed. He turned his head to the side, to see a shadowy figure wielding his own greatsword. The figure brought the blade down with great speed. The stranger screamed, his eyes blew open, and he rapidly sat bolt upright in his bed. He breathed heavily as cold sweat ran down his face. His heart was beating hard enough it was almost trying to escape from his chest. The stranger slowed his breathing in an attempt to calm himself. His heartbeat slowed, and he held his face and rubbed his eyes.

"A thousand years and it never gets any easier." He said under his breath. He heard a loud crack of wood outside. He looked out the window and saw nothing. He quietly stepped out of bed and unsheathed his sword. He stepped outside and peered around the corner of the shack in the direction of the noise. It was just before dawn, where the horizon was bright but the land remained in shadow. Through the trees, he saw a fence. He let out a sigh of relief and moved in to investigate.

Upon closer inspection, there was simply a snapped board across the lateral part. The stranger looked to the dirt around him for potential footprints of a culprit. There were none. He looked closer at the boards in the fence. There were wear marks on the board as well as fresh tufts of hair lodged in the grain and on the ground.

"Cows. Crack must have spooked them… Or my rude awakening." He said to himself. The stranger stood up and walked back into the shack. He dismantled the table and carefully pulled the still-useable nails from it as well as two of the boards comprising the top surface. He approached the fence and held the two cracked sides of the fence together between the loose boards like a splint. He hammered the nails in with the pommel of his sword. As he was just finishing putting in the last nail, the stranger heard footsteps in the gravel, coming closer. He looked up from his repair job to see a rather grimy looking warrior, the same one from the day before. He simply stood there, eerily still. Then he spoke.

"What are you doing?" he asked. The stranger stood up after the nail was flush and said,

"I fixed the fence." The figure remained silent. It was difficult for the stranger to read him.

"Did you see any footprints in the dirt? Deformed, roughly the size of a child's?" the figure asked.

"No. Why?" the stranger replied, puzzled.

"Goblin scouts." The figure said bluntly. The stranger plucked a tuft of brown hair from the wood grain and held it up.

"Then really no. A cow was rubbing on the fence to scratch itself and it broke. Fairly common occurrence." He said.

"I see." The figure said. He went back to perusing the fence line without any kind of end to the conversation. The stranger placed his sword back into it's scabbard and looked off into the horizon. The sun was barely peeking over the mountains. He looked back at the grimy warrior and said,

"What are you doing up so early anyway?" Unwavering in his task, the warrior said,

"I look for signs of goblins at dawn every day." An awkward silence fell again. The stranger looked around, then he chimed in again,

"You're not even concerned why I'm out her so early, let alone fixing fences?"

"No. Should I be?" the warrior asked. The stranger paused before saying,

"No . I don't suppose you have much reason to." He turned away and returned to the shack without a word. He put on his armor, sheathed his greatsword on his back, and exited the building. He passed the warrior again and said,

"Alright, I suppose I'll see you at the guild some time. Goodbye." To which the warrior responded simply,

"Yeah."

The stranger entered the guild at daybreak, and there were already plenty of adventurers eager to hunt and hone their skills. The blonde receptionist girl emerged from behind the desk with a stack of papers and walked towards the bulletin board. She hung them all in every available spot and then some. She turned to the anxiously waiting crowd and announced,

"Good morning everyone! Today's quests are officially open!" She quickly darted out of the way as the wall of bodies descended upon the quest board. The receptionist returned back to the desk to start handling quest takers. The stranger attempted to approach the board, bit was cut off by countless adventurers, veterans and newbies alike, swarming to get their tasks. Being an adult about it, the stranger waited until enough people had subsided and he could see the board for himself.

Once the stranger could get a look at the board, it was only a skeleton of what it had been mere minutes ago. Looking over the remaining quests, they consisted of the likes of goblins, giant rats, bugs, and other undesirables. The newer adventurers aside the stranger tried to avoid the goblin quests. He wasn't interested in the other quests, as they were rather boring to him. He took one of the goblin slaying quests in hand and looked it over.

"How ironic…" He thought. The quest details were from a farmer to the north, whose townspeople and livestock we're being terrorized by a nearby den, resulting in a few abductions as well. He brought the page to the blonde receptionist and she looked it over.

"Goblins huh? Not too many people take these. Well, except for Goblin Slayer of course." As the words left her lips, the image of the grimy warrior the stranger had seen earlier that morning flashed across his mind.

"It seemed more interesting than the others." He said. The receptionist took the page down to the desk and started writing something disinteresting to the stranger. The receptionist looked up at him and said with a smile,

"You're all set. Happy hunting!" The stranger started to turn away, but then the receptionist chimed in, "Oh, and... Do be careful please." He looked back at her, her hands clasped over her chest. He chuckled.

"Heh. You don't need to worry about me. Farewell." He said as he turned away. Rather than leaving, he made for a bookshelf in the communal area of the guild. He looked over the books until he found an encyclopedia of monsters. Flipping through the pages, the stranger stopped on the section of goblins. Skimming through it, he found his basic necessary information.

"Intelligence of children, but children can be devious little bastards." He mumbled. After a couple more minutes of reading, he closed the book and put it back in its place on the shelf. He made for the door, and there came pushing through it, was Goblin Slayer. To no surprise, he paid the stranger no attention. He watched the proclaimed slayer of goblins walk up to the receptionist girl as he caught the door to exit. As soon as he stepped through, he turned his head at the last second to run into a young girl.

"Oof!" she said with a chirp as she stumbled back and fell onto her butt. "Sorry!" she said as a follow up. Rather embarrassed, the stranger said,

"No, my apologies. I should have been watching where I was going." He got a good look at her. She was a young blonde girl with big blue eyes and pure white clothes, a tell tale sign of a priestess or the like. He offered her a hand, and she accepted. He pulled her to her feet and kicked up one end of her staff with his foot and caught it upright with his hand. He offered it to her with a luke-warm half smile.

"I believe this is yours." He said. She took the staff and said,

"Ah, yes. Thank you!" She turned and entered the guild. Before the door closed, the stranger saw her approach and engage in conversation with Goblin Slayer.

"Odd couple, but who am I to judge." The stranger said to himself. He left the guild and made for an armory. After finding one, he started to look over its handy selection of weapons and armor. He scratched his stubbled chin as he went from sword to spear.

"They're all too long for a cave." He thought. Then he spotted a mace on a rack on the wall. He took it by the handle and felt its heft. Its blunt bladed head made it very top heavy, as it should be. It was short enough for cave use, but long enough for good momentum. He took that as his choice, along with a bottle of lantern oil. He took them to the counter to pay. There was a short, almost dwarven looking man with a large beard behind it working a blade on a grindstone. When he heard the clunk of the mace hitting the countertop, he looked up to see the stranger, then he looked him over with his better eye.

"Ye look a bit too chistled to be using somethin' so crude." He said in a condescending tone.

"It serves me better in a cave than a greatsword." The stranger retorted.

"Speakin' er which, that un' ye got there don't look like it's seen a grinder since it was made." The smith said.

"It's an executioner's sword. It's meant to be blunt." Said the stranger in monotone.

"Suit yerself." The Smith said as he went back to grinding. "Just gimme what ye think is fair fer the mace there. I been tryin' to get rid of the damn thing fer months now."

"So be it." The stranger said as he left the aformentioned amount of gold in payment. He placed the bottle of lantern oil in his side bag and left the armory. Finally on his hike to his first quest, her took a breath and looked at the road ahead.

"I guess today, I become the Goblin Slayer."