Listen to me, my friends, for I have a tale to tell you", said Storknar as he let out a heavy and mournful sigh. It was a fortnight past when I went with my chum, may his blade never dull in the next world, went for a mug of that swill they serve in the little tavern near the border with those haughty Kinet bores. So we had been there a time, and at least half of that lazy innkeepers entire stock of booze was inside our bellies when we began to harass him - may he never have enough ether to buy a rat - My pal decides that he was feeling ornery, always quite cocky when he's had a few and went out to take a breather.

After I had emptied a few more, and the innkeeper's daughter began to look good, I noticed that my buddy hadn't returned and decided to go see what was keeping him - I reckoned that he was trying to teach those Gibberlings how to drink again. After searching for some time I almost stumbled over him near the Kinet fort, he was soaked in blood - I almost mistook him for a cut of mutton instead of my Chaot brother. He was still conscious and managed to tell me what happened - but I can't say whether it was the truth or just a dying man's rant.