A low rumbling sound echoed around the lizard-folk camp, a methodical sound of something huge snoozing away. An utterly massive dark shape was lounging in an ancient stone tub that could have fit four to five average sized humans. The massive form of Karn filled that space up easily with that incredible bulk of his. Despite sleeping so soundly his ears swiveled when sounds were unfamiliar. The pitter patter of weighted feed made one of his eyes snap open and his head to turn. That reptilian eye landed on Root, a tiny lizardman who relied of poisons. His nostrils flared, taking in the scent of fresh and raw fish. It had been dead maybe a few minutes. Leaning up one great mitt emerged from the tub and grabbed one of the carps. [color=gold]"It's not Kull, it's Karn."[/color] He rumbled out before opening his maw and swallowing the carp whole. It slipped down easily enough and rested in his stomach while he started to move out of the tub. What little water was in the basic sloughed off his scales and dribbled from his hides. [color=gold]"What's the tribes plan for today?[/color] He questioned, he was one of the few from his own tribe who had purposefully learned to speak clearly in common. Draconic all lizard-folk were fluent in. His feet on the floor he sat on the edge of the basin while his other one picked up that titanic cleaver of his. His free hand scooped up the second carp and it followed its fellow spawn into his gullet. He wasn't one for fishing, he could hunt but only big game. Like other humanoids or the beasts outside of the dungeon he sometimes went for. Was there hunting needed? Or was the tribe going to try and expand further outward? More space never hurt and the enclosed nature of the dungeon made it so they had more defensible points.