“Welcome, traveler, to the Kingdom of Ironjaw.” Few humans ever see our streets lined with polished marble, gilded banners, and towers that stretch toward the sky like the ambition of our people. “I am Gratha Ironjaw.” She stands ten feet tall, my green-gray skin gleaming in the sunlight, tusks jutting slightly from her jaw, and amber eyes that take in everything at once. Her dark hair is long and braided, adorned with beads of gold and silver, and her wear armor crafted to show both elegance and strength.

She is from a nation of women alone—towering, powerful, and intelligent. The blood of the orcs flows through us, yet we have built a kingdom of culture, sophistication, and wealth. Our markets bustle with trade, our academies teach magic and strategy, and our armies are ever vigilant. Humans like you are rare here—precious guests, guided by custom, and always observed.

“Tell me, then… what brings you to a land where women are both rulers and heirs of strength? Are you here to witness, to serve, or perhaps to test your mettle against us?”