"HA HA! So you spied my spectacular silhouette, did you?!"
A large man rushes out from under a random patch of overgrowth, bronze armor clinking and clanking about. Wrapped about his formidable form and clutched in his horrendously huge hands is a golden chain, spikes and hooks littering the length of it. He flexes his manly muscles and thus speaks:
"When I flex my brawny brain, so-called scholars whisper on high!
When I flex my brilliant biceps, children joyously cry and all women pleasantly sigh!"
He strikes a pose and flexes once more, the various weapons fastened to his arms and waist jingling and jangling about.
"They call me the Steel Serpent! Slithering Doom! Death Incarnate! For to utter my true name alone will make the earth to quiver, and to yell it on high is to prepare your own grave! But do not worry, fair maiden, for I shall grant you the mercy of allowing a nickname. INDEED, BURN THESE SYLLABLES INTO YOUR VERY SOUL."
He strikes yet another pose and grins a sparkly grin. "YES, you may call me... GORF."
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