It's a fantasy role-playing game.

DM: You are Tiberius Stormwind, a dragonborn sorcerer . You are the member of the famous group of adventurers. Previously, The party, after essentially forcing this individual to reveal themself, the rakshasa fled through a tunnel underneath its room into a long subterranean tunnel fraught with traps that were set to protect it. The party managed to avoid these rather deftly until the steady decline of the hallway, combined with the increasing moisture and scent of refuse, caused a slick surface and our fantastic cleric, Brother Kash, Kashaw, slipped and fell down.
DM: Six, okay. All right. As the skittering seems to go to a fervored frenzy, you can see masses and masses of extremely matted fur moving and quivering through this refuse as a series of rat swarms pour out of the edges of this giant dung pile. And where at the center that giant entity has revealed itself to be a terrifying visage of some kind. I'm going to have you go ahead and roll an arcana check.
Player: 22.
DM: 22. Immediately, as soon as this creature comes out (squelch), this horrible guttural bubbling sound its throat makes as it pulls itself out of this nasty collection of refuse. You've read of this in quite a few tomes before in your travels. This is known as an otyugh.
Player: A what?
DM: An otyugh.
Player: Oh. Nasty things, these otyughs.
DM: Usually riddled with disease, they're controlled garbage disposals for those that can keep control of them. And it is Kashaw's turn.
