Ogres

The ogre-men moved forward, their heavy steps causing the ground to tremble slightly.

The leader of the group, a particularly grotesque figure with jagged teeth and a horn protruding from his forehead, grinned menacingly. His voice was guttural and mocking.

"I'm gonna eat you, pretty boy," he growled, his grin widening as he hefted a massive cleaver that looked more like a slab of sharpened steel.

Jolthar didn't flinch.

He stepped forward, his expression calm, almost serene. He held Knashii loosely at his side, the blade's edge reflecting the light like a mirror. The runes along the blade began to glow brighter, their hum growing louder as Jolthar approached the advancing ogre-man.

The brute broke into a lumbering run, his heavy feet pounding against the cobblestones. His cleaver gleamed ominously as he raised it high above his head, aiming to cleave Jolthar in two with a single strike.

But Jolthar moved with unsettling grace.