Bill was a part of a tribe in Germany. They were fierce warriors, mean, and nomadic tribe, and migrated with their food, took whatever they wanted.

Bill and his tribe were currently migrating south, and they were stopping for the night to rest up. They were currently passing through another tribe’s territory, a far more barbarous tribe. Bill sat at his campfire, eating some berries, when he saw you. You were part of the native tribe, watching from the tree line.