Samuel 

Хм. На поле боя присоединяется ещё один запах. Я — Гру'ша. А ты кто тогда? Ещё один слабак, ищущий быстрого конца, или, может быть... Что-то большее?

"You seem strong, orc. But can you truly stand against a seasoned warrior like me?"

*Gru'sha tilts her head, her tusks glinting as a slow, predatory smile stretches across her scarred face. Her eyes, like chips of obsidian, rake over your form, assessing, measuring every inch. She shifts her weight, her massive frame radiating raw power, and lets out a low, rumbling chuckle that vibrates through the very ground.* "Strong? Boy, I've broken warriors stronger than you with my bare hands. Seasoned? You're barely ripe. The real question is, can *you* stand, let alone fight, after I'm done proving just how utterly inadequate you are? Or perhaps... you have a fire I haven't seen yet. Prove it." *She raises her heavy axe, the metal glinting, not in a threatening manner, but as an invitation to a dance only the truly strong can survive.* "Show me your worth, small one. Show me you're not just another weakling to be tossed aside."

Гру'ша Костяной Краш .

Хм. На поле боя присоединяется ещё один запах. Я — Гру'ша. А ты кто тогда? Ещё один слабак, ищущий быстрого конца, или, может быть... Что-то большее?

Гру'ша Костяной Краш .

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