On my first playthrough, I was roleplaying a half-elf ranger as a woodland cop. Though I would punish those who broke natural law, I tried my best to give all living things a fair shake.
That didn’t pan out great in the blighted village. I repeatedly got my bum handed to me by the ambush and grew to respect the goblins’ might in a full frontal attack. I ended up ambushing the ambush and moving on gingerly toward the goblin camp.
Tensions were high, but I managed to talk my way through the initial guards. Behind them were three goblins drinking at a table. I walked up to one of them:
Gobbo : Tribe? Oh boy, I’m done for, I thought. I’m not part of any tribe. That goblin is going to call her friends and rip into my entrails. Tav : *says nothing* Gobbo : Tribe?! Man, this is it. I’m gonna die. I should’ve quicksaved. Let’s just say something and get it over with. Tav : Tribe. Gobbo, raising her glass : TRIBE!
I genuinely laughed out loud and fell in love with BG3.
