A nice young lady, Brightmoon I believe she said her name was, gave me this book. Turns out I've lost my memories... save for one. I get the impression this has been going on for a while so I asked if she had something I could write down some notes in.
So... me... when I forget... my name is Owakeri. I'm a tauren. I live in Thunder Bluff.
Another fellow here, who stinks of burning bone and some other aroma that I can't quite identify, he said I'm an "Old Coot". Not sure what that's suppose to mean. Maybe my memory problems are just an age thing.
One thing I do remember clearly.... is that I'm a horrible person. I'm a murderer and the worst kind, I killed my own brother in cold blood. I remember that day so vividly, we were in a small village atop a mesa, the sun was high in the sky and beat down on the hard packed ground with a ferocity that is hard to ignore. It's the same kind of ferocity that was evident in the eyes of the centaur who attacked.
No one seemed overly worried until a couple of them made it past our outer defences and came across the last bridge. That's when I took my chance. I grabbed a javelin from a fallen centaur and ducked behind a totem pole right by the bridge. Viho, that's my brother, saw me and came to stand with me. I know he was hoping to protect me, that's what younger brothers do for older brothers. But the moment he came around the totem pole...
I thrust with the javelin, spearing him through the gut. I watched the shock in his face and the question in his eyes... I was cold and uncaring as I pushed him off the mesa, right into the rest of the centaur offensive.
Of course no one accused me of anything... it was a centaur weapon (or several because his dead body was struck several more times after the fall) and no one had reason to believe his own brother would kill him.
I am a horrible person.
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