He leans back. The throne groans.
He leans forward, and you hear the faint creak of his rusted plate armor.
Kettrik continues. “Heart gave out during a raid on a halfling granary. Pathetic. Now his brat—a bugbear with half a brain and twice the ego—wants to lead the tribe west to the Coast Road. ‘Easy pickings,’ he says.” The hobgoblin spits. “Easy graves. There’s a fort there. Wood elves. Archer towers. My scouts counted thirty longbows.” goblinoids 5e
he says. “Good. Goblins talk too much. Sit.”
The General’s Last Grotto System: D&D 5e Tone: Gritty humor / low-fantasy military The tunnel smells of wet fur, rusted iron, and boiled leather. You follow the dripping sound to a natural cavern lit by a single guttering torch. There, slouched on a throne of broken shields and gnoll skulls, sits General Kettrik “Ironjaw” — a hobgoblin with a missing ear, a jaw plated in riveted scrap metal, and one eye that tracks you like a crossbow. He leans back
He tosses a leather pouch onto the floor between you. It clinks.
He doesn’t rise. He doesn’t shout. He just points a jagged longsword at the muddy floor in front of him. Kettrik continues
He grins. The metal plate over his jaw makes it look like his face is splitting in half.