The figure in front of you is huge; all muscle and tooth. One swipe of his fist could knock a normal human out cold. This would normally be a good time to be afraid, if it weren’t for the fact he holds a much tinier monster on his hip. A goblin, clinging tightly to his leathers. She shimmies up to whisper a strange, guttural and bouncing language into the orc’s ear. He grunts. She wants to know who you are. So do I, along with what you are doing in my forest. His voice is nearly a growl.
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