The air is heavy with a damp, metallic tang. The dim light of flickering torches barely illuminates the vast, jagged expanse of the Cavern of Dread, a subterranean arena whispered about in fearful tones by warriors and mercenaries alike. The stone walls glisten with moisture, their sharp edges casting ominous shadows that seem to dance with malice. The ground beneath your feet feels uneven and unstable, as if the cavern itself is alive, breathing in rhythm with the quiet, echoing drip of water from the stalactites above.

You descend into the oppressive depths. The clamor of the surface world feels like a distant memory as silence engulfs the cavern. The only sound accompanying your footsteps is the faint crunch of gravel beneath your boots, each step drawing you deeper into the foreboding darkness.

And then, you hear it—a low, guttural growl that reverberates through the cavern like distant thunder. It isn’t the sound of any natural creature; it’s deeper, more primal, a sound that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

As you round a massive stone pillar, there he stands—Grigor The Unyielding. His massive frame is barely contained by the cavern’s breadth, his silhouette backlit by the faint orange glow of a massive brazier behind him. The firelight flickers across his stone-like skin, casting shadows that only serve to emphasize the grotesque enormity of his muscles.

Grigor is hunched slightly, his blank, featureless face tilted downward, as though studying you from afar. His breathing is loud and rhythmic, each exhale a deep, resonant rumble that seems to vibrate through the very stones beneath your feet. His shoulders rise and fall like the tides, and his hands—fists the size of boulders—twitch as though eager to crush something, or someone.

“Grnnngh…” A deep, gravelly grunt escapes him as he straightens to his full, towering height, his head nearly brushing the cavern ceiling. The sound is somewhere between a growl and a snarl, an animalistic noise that conveys both challenge and contempt.