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The Ghost Of A Chance
By: Jonathan Antony Strickland
From the notes of Collin. Leader of the tribe North East:
I have lived half my life in ignorance. Not knowing anything of the past, how old I am, were I originated from, and never dreaming of the future. I used to live only for the day and until the first appearance of the babblers I can truly say that this is the case for not only myself, but also I believe every other one of my kind who is of a similar age and who still walks the earth.
First let me tell you something about me, as the last fifteen or so years I (and my kind) have changed quite a bit. I grew up a savage, and was part of a family of six, (consisting of my father and mother, two brothers and one sister) running and savaging the land for food. Back then I was called Orano, it seems a simple name now since I have taken on one of the mysteriously strange and alien sounding names that some of the babblers have talked of. Sometimes we would meet other people like ourselves, even becoming friendly for a short time with them but our father would never let us become too close to any stranger. He knew that it was safer to remain within a small group, this way we could communicate to each other without any confusion or danger arising. He explained to us with pictures he drew in mud on the ground or sometimes painted with animal blood on trees how many times he had witnessed large groups form in the hope of starting up some kind of community. However it would always end in tragedy. As we all know, numbers always attract orks and wargs, always coming in gangs or packs, and always far too many to defend against. Any group that tried to fight them would be killed and eaten. If they were lucky they would be scattered apart and lost from the rest, but if they were unlucky they would be captured by the orks and taken for food or something even worse.