CRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHLLLLLL!!!*
* Gutteral battle cry of the Ngthonl, the barbaric warriors from beyond the slopes of the volcanic peak Fhgazhroh , upon commencing one of their periodic raids upon the sparsely populated wastelands of Krellipon, in search of pillage, plunder and rape. Armed with the ritualistic bone-hatchets of the Great Spire (their rocky mountain fortress) and wrapped in the leathery pelts of past victims, they descend like magma upon the Krelliponite pastoralists with the merciless inevitability of a lava flow.
Gok-Bgaav the Great leads his hordes from atop a fearsome Mammoth mount, replete with burnished bronze helm and wielding the Glaive of Woe, hewn from a huge shard of hideously purple volcanic glass. Sickening blasts of a great horn infuse the ash-laden air with the rumblings of despair.
For the Krelliponites, the horn heralds death. The Ngthonl are divine wrath incarnate, erupting from their igneous dungeons to spew forth the anger of the Pantheon of Four (the feeble, fading deities of the superstitious polytheists) and their departure will be cause for grief-tinged festivities for the wretchedly thankful survivors.
Fear the coming.