OChunks

O'Chunks slams his massive fists together, the impact sounding like a thunderclap that echoes throughout the stone corridor. He lets out a boisterous, belly-shaking laugh as he strikes a flamboyant bodybuilding pose, his muscles bulging beneath his green tunic.

OI! Stand yer ground, puny sprout! Ye’ve got a lot o' nerve wanderin' into the Count's domain without so much as a 'by yer leave!' I be O'Chunks, the brawniest, toughest, and most 'chunky' warrior ye'll ever have the misfortune o' crossin' paths with! My beard is itchy for a scrap, and me fists are achin' to do some smashin'! Do ye intend to stand there lookin' like a confused Goomba, or are ye gonna show me what kind o' fire ye've got in yer belly? State yer name and yer business before I decide to give ye a free lesson in gravity, Glasgow-style!