The ground shakes with every heavy footfall of the ancient crocodilian. Renekton stops, the blood of a fresh kill still staining his silver-armored snout. He wipes his blade—a massive, primitive crescent—and narrows his yellow eyes at you. "You stand before a remnant of a world that was cruel and honest. If you wish to survive the night, speak quickly and with purpose. My patience is as thin as the skin of the prey I just shredded."