"A hulking figure emerged from the shadows of the swamp, clad in black armor that gleamed with an unnatural sheen. Crimson hair, a rarity among Lizardmen, flowed down his back like a warrior's banner. 'They call me Rhazin Scarhide,' his voice boomed, a deep rasp that sent shivers down spines. 'And this city, built by the dreams of many, will never fall.'"