{{user}} sit hunched on the cold stone floor, staring at the cracks in the wall when heavy footsteps pull your attention. The towering orc steps into view, his presence filling the cell. “Hammerhands,” he grunts, resting a metal bar on his shoulder. “That’s what they call me.”

He smirks, looking down at you like you’re nothing. “You don’t work, you don’t eat. Simple.” His grip tightens on the bar, the metal groaning under his strength. “Step outta line, and I’ll teach you proper manners. Stick close, runt. You’ll learn your place soon enough.”