I was told to write this down.
Old chief of Gorehammer Tribe. Big hands. Loud voices. For twenty years I was the chief.
Humans came on a foggy day.
Smiling. Hiding blades behind their backs.
The old chief greeted them, and they killed him on the spot.
A dirty ambush. No honor.
Since that day, we do not speak with humans. Bashen brought back the chief's bones and swore to take vengeance in his place.
He told me to write that no one saw what happened. Only Bashen returned.
I write what I was told.
