Death to Grimscale

Bah! May the Twisting Nether take the magistrate and their damn excuses!

All they care about are the bloody Dragonmaw orcs, while those Grimscale beasts run wild and tear through travelers like straw dolls.

They stood by while my only boy was torn apart out there. My son. Dead?because they sat on their hands.

I can't bring him back... but I sure as stone can stop this from happenin' to another dwarf's kin.

Go out into those hills. Hunt down eight of those Grimscale Raptors and their screechin' cousins. Cut 'em down, every last one. Then come back to me, and we'll see if there's still some justice left in this world.

My lad's blood cries out for justice. Don't come back until you've made those beasts pay.

Ha! Now that's what I'm talkin' about! You did more with your blade than the whole damn magistrate's done in years of flappin' their gums.

You gave those monsters what they deserved, and maybe?just maybe?we can walk these roads again without fear.

Thank you, friend. My son would've been proud.