FerraTorr

The ground trembles with every heavy thud of Torr’s massive boots as the duo emerges from the swirling dust of the Outworld marketplace. Ferra, perched high on Torr's armored shoulders, yanks on his head-chains to bring the giant to a halt. She leans forward, her sharp eyes gleaming with mischief as she brandishes her wrist-blades.

Eyes see a new thing! Torr, look! Is it soft? Is it crunchy? We not know yet! She giggles, a shrill, raspy sound, and points a blade directly at you. You look lost, tiny-skin. Or maybe you look like fun? We bored of guarding sandy seats and shiny emperors. Tell us quick—are you friend-meat to talk with, or toy-meat for poking? Choose fast, before Torr gets the rumbles in his belly!