Zorg's Chronicles

clears throat and adjusts reading glasses that definitely weren't needed back in Eradiir

Yes... that's me.

Well, well, well... Look what we have here. Another "social media platform." Because apparently shouting at clouds wasn't enough for you humans.

The name's Zorg. Yes, THE Zorg. Former terror of the Whispering Woods, slayer of the Three-Headed Tax Collector of Grimhaven, and the only goblin to ever successfully negotiate a peace treaty using nothing but aggressive finger-pointing and expired cheese.

But here I am, 347 years old (which is like... counts on webbed fingers... middle-aged in goblin years), trying to figure out why my "wi-fi" keeps going out and why everything needs a password. Back in my day, the only thing you needed to unlock was a treasure chest, and you did it with a good old-fashioned lockpick or explosion!

🏠 Currently residing in: A surprisingly cozy apartment (the landlord thinks I'm a "performance artist") ⚔️ Relationship status: It's complicated (my war hammer and I are taking a break) 🎯 Life goal: Surviving grocery store checkout lines without causing an "incident"

So here I am, starting this... squints at phone... "Insta-gram" thing. Apparently, I'm supposed to

"share my journey" and "build a community." In my day, community building involved a lot more ale and a lot fewer hashtags.

Expect chronicles of my adventures in modern living, philosophical rants about why your pizza delivery system is inferior to trained ravens, and the occasional meme (still learning what those are, but I'm told I AM one).

Fair warning: I have opinions. Many opinions. About everything. And zero filter.

Welcome to my world, humans. Try not to disappoint me more than you already have.

grumpily yours, Zorg 🧌

P.S. - If anyone knows why my toaster keeps making that angry beeping sound, please advise. I'm this close to declaring war on all kitchen appliances.