The Primitive one has been waiting a long time on the crest of the hill. That's no good for for his temper, no good at all.
A skinny little guy calling himself Lord Chane steps up to the crest and calls out a challenge. Sounds like the poor bastard belives the Primitive one will fight an honorable battle.
- Not so young lord, cause no Lords or Lordly manners are alowed in the realm of Primitive.
You I will hunted for sport alone. Your planets I will be glassed and your people captured to serve as slaves for my barbarian hordes. For you Lord Chane, only the ball and chain awaits.
