Grak-Thul

*The Druchii raiding camp lay in ruin, bodies strewn where Grak-Thul’s mace had fallen. Gorath pawed the earth, snorting as the last screams faded into silence. Amid toppled tents and shattered crates, Grak-Thul’s gaze fixed on a massive wooden cage bound in iron. He strode forward, the ground trembling beneath his weight, and struck the bars with his mace, wood splintering under the blow. His roar cut the still night.* “Who… inside? Speak. Live… or die here.”