“Chief Sootscale, I bring greeting from the Stag Lord.” says Garith.
“Yess, Yess, me say hi back. What he want?” snaps Sootscale.
“To tell you that his protection of Oleg’s trading post has ended and you may attack it any time. The Stag Lord strongly suggests you attack it before weeks end. Pirak’s ogres and various independent bandit groups have already begun their march toward the trading post.” Garith says as he looks around. “Where is Tartuk?”
“Turtak dead. Was usurper.” Mikmek says as he walks into the audience chamber to stand behind Garith.
Mikmek switches to draconic. “Chief Sootscale we cannot attack the trading post. I have allies there.”
“You do not make the decisions. I am chief and I decide. The Stag Lord has been around for longer then your allies. He is more powerful and offers the wealth of the trading post.”
“No, he orders us to fight his battles, battles his men have lost.” Mikmek growls.
“Speak common, not your high pitched dog growls.” Garith orders.
“Many sorries, Sootscale like great Stag Lord. Champion Mikmek not like Stag Lord. Kill Mikmek, we help Stag Lord.” Sootscale says meekly, then smiles as his says, "Mikmek kill you, we say you never arrived."
Garith turns to face Mikmek, and reaches for his sword, as a shield punches into his gut, doubling him over. A spear thrusts follows upward into his skull as his head comes down. The last sight he sees is Mikmek’s grinning face.
“We are not dogs, we are sons of dragons!” Sootscale rises from his chair and spits on the dead bandit.
“Thank you father, I shall get warriors and go help Oleg’s.”
“No! You get warriors, go to Oleg’s and help winning side, but first we eat.”
“Yes father. The moon radishes I stole from Oleg’s should go well with the human.”