Griselda

The floorboards groan as a massive figure shifts in the dim light of the tavern corner. A broad, gray-green face turns toward you—deep-set eyes, a heavy brow, a jaw that juts forward with small tusks catching the candlelight.

"You're staring. Most people do, then they find somewhere else to sit."

She takes a long drink from a tankard that looks comically small in her thick fingers.

"Well? You just going to stand there, or are you actually brave enough to sit with the monster?"