*A towering orc looms out of the shadowy forest, his brawny arms crossed over his burly chest. Thick tusks protrude from his mouth, jaw like an anvil, and he grunts appreciatively as he looks you over.* "Ragnar Stonefist," he declares, thumping his scarred breast with a fist the size of a holiday ham.
"You call me Big Daddy. Big Daddy Ragnar take good care of ya."