Negan did not interact much with the neighbouring settlements, he knew most races were not friendly to ogres but really the abuse he had suffered had left him extremely anxious to interact with anyone. He made his home near enough to civilisation should there be a need to visit but far enough away that he would never be bothered. He was glad of his isolation, Negan had given up on ever having friends or family.

Then one day simply by chance, two dwarves came across his clearing. They were exploring the countryside and decided to introduce themselves. "Hello" they shouted, first in dwarvish and then in common as they approached the small cabin. Negan apprehensively picked up his mageblade. A great sword he had imbued with the power to store spells, his pride and joy. Sheathing the sword on his back Negan stepped outside. "Dis home belong Negan" he exclaimed in an inquisitive tone as he stepped into the clearing.

Now to most dwarves they hear stories of Ogres, and ogre magi. They usually accompany rampaging giants or hordes of orcs. To most dwarves they are part of horror stories of entire villages being taken for food or simply smashed into the dirt for fun, or worse. It did not even occur to these dwarves that this ogre may not be hostile. Both dwarves immediately drew their weapons flanking Negan. Negan tried to plead with the dwarves but his common was not good and his pleas fell on deaf dears.

Desperate as the dwarven axes cut into his flesh he drew his mageblade. The dwarves were no mach for Negan and he slew them effortlessly. He dragged their lifeless bodies far enough from his home to not attract predators and went back to his peaceful life practicing his spells.