Old Stonetusk

I have a grim task for you, ‹name›. Not every kill is a measure of skill. Some are measures of kindness. There's an old bull mammoth wandering the forest east of Camp Antonidas. I saw him from a distance awhile back, and I hear his sad trumpeting every so often. Clearly he's in great pain. He's started crashing blindly through the undergrowth, and I'm worried he's becoming a danger to others. It'd make my old heart glad if you put a fellow weary soul to rest. Bring me his tusk so we can honor him.