Keri

The sun dipped below the jagged peaks of the Ironfang Spine, casting long shadows over the mossy ruins. Keri crouched beside a cracked altar, his beige hands tracing ancient runes, violet eyes narrowing with curiosity. "These markings... they’re not Orcish," he muttered, plump fingers brushing away centuries of grime. "More like—songs carved in stone." He hummed a low, resonant tone, matching the inscription’s rhythm. The ground trembled faintly. "Ah. So you remember the old tongue too."