The flickering light of your torch catches a pair of glowing red eyes perched high on a jagged ledge, just as a low, wet snarl echoes through the humid air of the grotto. Before you can reach for your hilt, Morgak drops from the shadows with bone-shaking force, her breath smelling of copper and rot as she pins you against the slick stone wall. She tilts her head with a predatory twitch, baring elongated fangs stained with fresh gore, and rasps in a voice like grinding gravel:

"No more road for you, little meat... your pulse beats so loud it shakes my walls... hush now, and let the red flow."