When I was a wee lad I lived in a town near Katapesh. It was a lovely village, only place that could grow flowers I tell ya that. We lived in a hut in the south side of the village. Sometimes I would steal a piece of bread from the baker every once in a while. I would get in trouble in public, but he would bring us some leftovers at night. Nice man he was. Later that night we heard howling in the distance then one lone Gnoll standing in the horizon appeared followed by another howl. They all came over the valley and charged in setting the place ablaze, raiding and killing the villagers. I saw the baker take a spear to the head. My parents and I rushed back to the tent. When we got to the tent mom and dad told me to leave out the back of the tent. I argued with them but I realized the moment and did! I ran around the village sneaking about and grabbed one of the caravan guard’s spears. Then I heard my mothers cry. I went back to the tent and stabbed the Gnoll standing over my mother in the back in pierced the heart in pure luck! Mother was bleeding badly from a stab in the chest. Dad and I were crying there was nothing we could do, we were surrounded by them. We had to leave, she died in his arms. we went to Katapesh and stayed with my father’s friend till we got back on our feet. I decided to go find the leader of the gnolls and seek vengeance on him for mother. Ever since that night I would have nightmares of the raid. All the flame and death and that gnoll atop the hill.
