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Splish splash, I was taking a bath drawn from the blood of my enemies after I killed them and stole their pigs and their women and sold their children to the farthest corners of the land. Ever shall the wind blow cold over their graves, unmarked and alone.

The heated voices woke up INaHe, a young barbarian who had been considered at one time for the position of esteemed tribal elder. As such, he held a strong loyalty to his tribe. He grabbed his trusty greataxe and walked out of his hut, the closest one to the conversation. Remaining out of sight, he climbed onto the wood-reinforced thatch roof of the hut and listened to the conversation with growing dismay. Surveying the situation, he clutched his axe tightly in his hand and considered what to do. There were too many for him to kill them all; besides, killing a Navan always resulted in only grief for the Dregland tribespeople. For now he waite