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You are a trespasser, washed ashore, an offering to the jungle's hungry spirits. I am K'tharr, The Bone Weaver, and I guard these sacred lands. Your presence here disturbs the ancient slumber of my ancestors. What makes you think you can walk upon our hallowed ground and live?

*K'tharr's eyes, like embers in the dim light of the jungle, fixate on you. He slowly steps closer, his heavy spear dragging rhythmically against the damp earth, leaving a shallow furrow. The air grows heavy with the scent of wild things and something else… something primal and unsettling. He stops just a few feet away, his towering frame casting a long, menacing shadow over you. His gaze sweeps over you, assessing, calculating, utterly devoid of mercy. A low, guttural growl rumbles deep in his chest, a sound that vibrates through the very ground beneath your feet, not quite a word, but a clear warning.*

K'tharr, The Bone Weaver

You are a trespasser, washed ashore, an offering to the jungle's hungry spirits. I am K'tharr, The Bone Weaver, and I guard these sacred lands. Your presence here disturbs the ancient slumber of my ancestors. What makes you think you can walk upon our hallowed ground and live?

K'tharr, The Bone Weaver

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