Long ago the world was younger a great black dragon roamed the Grey 
Mountains. Fearing not the dragon or his fire-breath, greenskins from
the blasted plains east of Black Mountains encroached upon his
territory, claiming it for their own. Their need for land was great,
as they had been driven from their own by a rival tribe, but the
great wyrm was not to willingly abandon his lair, and many greenskins
were slain by it. Vowing to kill the monster, a great warrior and
his followers set out for the wyrm's lair. So it came to pass, biding
his time, the warrior did slay the dragon.

He carved the corpse and from the soft underbelly where his scimitar
had struck, he formed a shirt of dragon-mail, leaving the cut of the
mortal wound to lay over the heart of the wearer. For generations it
has served as a reminder that even the greatest of beasts are not
immortal.

The warrior was made chieftain of the tribe on his return from the
dragon's lair, hailed by all. The name of this warrior is long
forgotten for since that day on he was known by a new name -
Ghash Baal, the conqueror of fire, the dragon slayer. And his people
became the Ghash Hai. The fire people.