...The demon lord's laughter echoed through the canyon like the yowl of beasts, a sound no creature with a civilized throat could make, all appetite and triumph and the breaking of things. His gnolls spread through the grassland like a plague, tearing through what had been built, what had been ordered, reducing everything to raw survival and the rule of the pack. There was no subtlety in his nature, no hidden depths, just the pure, unstoppable hunger of chaos given form. He did not plan. He devoured. He did not build. He destroyed what others had made. And his followers glorified him for it, howling their devotion into the wilderness, and the wilderness howled back, answering hunger with hunger, savage with savage, until the world became a feeding ground and nothing else remained...