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[IronyOwl]

Hrm, maybe we should acclimate Slowdeath to Cra-crawler's wasp after all. Tell her to start camping at the edge of where he's comfortable with it, gradually shifting in as that range gets smaller. Maybe we should have sessions where we introduce the two while we're there to reassure Slowdeath that it's not going to hurt him.

I like Glowshine's initiative. Those nets will come in real handy.


Escorting the cultists sounds like a good idea. It doesn't really cost us anything, at least until they get into a religious argument with Cra-crawler over the One And/Or Two True Gods, and helps smooth over a possible rough patch in our route. I'd rather keep the elves as status symbols, but selling them would be more practical, and getting some contact with goblins might be good for work in any case.

Rickshaw similarly has no real downsides to taking along with us. Free booze! And more religious discussion.

The bandits are the only real decision point. I don't think we're in any particular hurry, so I'm fine with doubling back for them, but I could see the argument to just get on with it. Also, our other escort options might object to waiting or doubling back with us, but they offer relatively slight benefits in comparison.

[Whisperling]

PTW.

[Mlamlah]

Hrm, maybe we should acclimate Slowdeath to Cra-crawler's wasp after all. Tell her to start camping at the edge of where he's comfortable with it, gradually shifting in as that range gets smaller. Maybe we should have sessions where we introduce the two while we're there to reassure Slowdeath that it's not going to hurt him.

+1. Praise Cra-crawler's thinking. But suggest that we can avoid such confusion in the future by being clear with ones intentions. Hopefully this will not only smooth over any hurt feelings, but also encourage the flow of information. It's better to be in touch with everything going on in our pack, and with our pack's still relatively small size we will hopefully manage to do that relatively well.

Escorting the cultists sounds like a good idea. It doesn't really cost us anything, at least until they get into a religious argument with Cra-crawler over the One And/Or Two True Gods, and helps smooth over a possible rough patch in our route. I'd rather keep the elves as status symbols, but selling them would be more practical, and getting some contact with goblins might be good for work in any case.

Rickshaw similarly has no real downsides to taking along with us. Free booze! And more religious discussion.

The bandits are the only real decision point. I don't think we're in any particular hurry, so I'm fine with doubling back for them, but I could see the argument to just get on with it. Also, our other escort options might object to waiting or doubling back with us, but they offer relatively slight benefits in comparison.

I'll +1 escorting the cultists, and Rickshaw if it's not an either/or situation, but with preference for the cultists. I'm not feeling the bandits, i don't think we should hang around other predators just now, not while they might ruin our plans and damage our still burgeoning pack.

Meanwhile, Glowshine has done well. I feel like we should indicate that despite our prior argument, we approve. At least in some small way. Perhaps we can quietly provide her with the choice cut of meat for a meal for example.

[Eric Blank]

Hrm, maybe we should acclimate Slowdeath to Cra-crawler's wasp after all. Tell her to start camping at the edge of where he's comfortable with it, gradually shifting in as that range gets smaller. Maybe we should have sessions where we introduce the two while we're there to reassure Slowdeath that it's not going to hurt him.

+1. Praise Cra-crawler's thinking. But suggest that we can avoid such confusion in the future by being clear with ones intentions. Hopefully this will not only smooth over any hurt feelings, but also encourage the flow of information. It's better to be in touch with everything going on in our pack, and with our pack's still relatively small size we will hopefully manage to do that relatively well.

Escorting the cultists sounds like a good idea. It doesn't really cost us anything, at least until they get into a religious argument with Cra-crawler over the One And/Or Two True Gods, and helps smooth over a possible rough patch in our route. I'd rather keep the elves as status symbols, but selling them would be more practical, and getting some contact with goblins might be good for work in any case.

Rickshaw similarly has no real downsides to taking along with us. Free booze! And more religious discussion.

The bandits are the only real decision point. I don't think we're in any particular hurry, so I'm fine with doubling back for them, but I could see the argument to just get on with it. Also, our other escort options might object to waiting or doubling back with us, but they offer relatively slight benefits in comparison.

I'll +1 escorting the cultists, and Rickshaw if it's not an either/or situation, but with preference for the cultists. I'm not feeling the bandits, i don't think we should hang around other predators just now, not while they might ruin our plans and damage our still burgeoning pack.

Meanwhile, Glowshine has done well. I feel like we should indicate that despite our prior argument, we approve. At least in some small way. Perhaps we can quietly provide her with the choice cut of meat for a meal for example.

All good ideas here.

Best to let the bandits know we'll be leaving now, though.

[Weirdsound]

Chieftess Venomclaw of the Wicked Song:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Healthy Adult Alpha Female Gnoll

Gnolls are savage scavengers and predators well adapted to the low light conditions of the darklands. Gnolls have higher than average endurance and agility for humanoids their size, and are impervious to most diseases and infections. Even supernatural curses and conditions are less likely to take when they target a gnoll.

As a young alpha female, you stand about 5'10, and likely have another 5-6 inches to grow. Your retractable claws can rend even the toughest skins and leathers, and your powerful jaw muscles can crunch through thin layers of metal (although doing so would likely break your teeth). Male gnolls you invite to join your pack will quickly come to see you as sister, friend, living goddess, and perfectly hideous sex symbol. You are presently unintrested in reproduction, and as an alpha female, can only be driven into heat by the extended presence of a gnollish girlchild.

Your fur is naturally soft and bright grey, but like most gnolls it is presently a matted reddish-brown due to your habit of rolling around in mud and gore and your aversion to bathing. Like most of your kind you suffer from a lack of modesty and an excess of fur that allows you to generally conduct your business naked, but as the leader of a pack, you might wear jewelry, piercings, or a small amount of clothing to flaunt your status.

Skills:

-Master arachnid trainer
-Great speaker of Gnollish (The native language of the gnolls. A Beast language with some Goblin influence)
-Accomplished rider
-Accomplished horn player
-Talented speaker of Savage Undercommon (The native language of the Kobolds, heavily influenced by Draconian and the Beast Languages)
-Talented polearm user
-Talented fish/amphibian trainer
-Skilled tracker
-Skilled reptile trainer
-Competent mammal trainer
-Novice speaker of Civilized Undercommon (A derivation of the goblin language used as a common tongue by the mighty underground kingdoms)

Inventory:

Silver tipped wood pike
Copper warhorn
Elf leather loincloth
Silk Anklet [Studded with Troll Knucklebones and Copper]
Map and Deed to Blackpool Shaft
Coinpurse
          -4.75 Opal Chips (A flat cross-section of opal roughly 1 inch by 3 inches. Used as currency by gnolls and kobolds)
          -Small Chitin Key to Blackpool Shaft


Pets and Allies:

-Slowdeath the Titanic Mule Scorpion (A lethal arachnid the size of a large horse. Amphibious. Highly intelligent. Trained as a mount and personal pet)
-Sir and Lady Carrion, the Frogsharks (Cow sized hybrid monsters with the body of a bullfrog and the jaws and face of a shark. Amphibious. Trained to fight on their own, or as a mount for a small male gnoll)
-x3 Kitten Sized Spiderlings (What could they grow into?)

-Zit the Gnollish Druid (Your Alpha Male. A perfectly hideous physical specimen who claims to pratice Kobold magic)
-Echo the Halfbreed Hunter (A sweet young lady with silent flight and amazing powers of perception)
-Cra-Crawler the Mystic (A strange beta-female even younger than you. Owns a frightening pet that she claims tells her the future)
-Glowshine the Pusher (A beta female with the skill set to make, market, and sell drugs. Scrawny, but owns a mean steel axe)

-15 Assorted Gnollish Males (They vary in size and build between 'Smallish Halfling' and 'Well Built Dwarf'. Armed with Rock, Wood, and Bone weapons. Most possess basic combat and survival skills)
          -Bone-Saw-Saw (Badly concussed)

You inform the bandits that you cannot afford to wait on them, and alert both the Cultists and Rickshaw's caravan to the fact that you will be departing as soon as you rest your pack. Then you track down Cra-Crawler for discussion. You explain to the younger female how she might slowly aclimate Slowdeath to the wasp's presence by camping right on the edge of the scorpion's comfort zone and moving in just a bit every night. You also request that she communicate her intentions with you in the future, to which she hesitates a bit before agreeing.

Thinking about it, it dawns on you that Cra-Crawler is actually a very poor conversationalist. You can't recall a single incident, over the few days you have known her, in which she spoke to anybody other than yourself in a manner that wasn't morbid poetry or some sort of spiritual sermon. Even when she talks to you normally, her words feel forced, and are often marred by a stutter. You have even seen her attempt to carry out orders on her own that most beta-females would have delegated. In spite of Cra-Crawler's assurances then, you are far from convinced that she will always tell you what she is planning before she acts.

---

After giving your charges a good ten hours to get ready and your pack the same to rest up, the group departs the town and enters Iron Canyon, a wide and tall tunnel partially open to the sky. The place is sparsely populated; Several human towns dot the ridges above, and although the residents rarely venture down to disturb the citizens of the darklands, and warn outsiders to travel to the floor at their own risk, the humans will eventually deploy their guard to run off any large group from below that tries to make the canyon their home. Although most of your pack and all of your other charges have been through the canyon before, a handful of male gnolls stop and stare in awe when you reach the first gap in the ceiling - their first ever encounter with sunlight.

You have fun observing how your pack interacts with the others as you travel. Rickshaw's group consists of four other Kobolds, a one armed orc, a female gnoll too old to breed, and two massive humanoids, likely mixes between various civilized beings and some of the larger troll species, who serve as glorified pack animals. The Orc, a younger specimen about your size, walks among your pack and makes conversation with the handful of males that speak its language. You haven't the faintest idea what they are talking about, but everybody seems amused by the conversation, and you are happy that you have some budding orcish translators at your disposal. The old female gnoll travels and converses with echo; It seems the two were once part of the same pack, and that your half-breed beta-female vaguely remembers her elder. They trade stories, mostly about their old alpha-male named Screamer who apparently had a penchant for childish pranks.

The pilgrims, as you had sort of expected, quickly find themselves in a heated religious debate with Cra-Crawler. The strange young gnoll finds herself verbally outmatched and flustered, but just as you begin to consider stepping in, she snaps, lashing out at them in some strange language that is completely alien to you. The pilgrims fall silent for a spell, and when they speak again it is in the same tounge. Although you can't make it out, their tone is clearly both deferential and apologetic. Cra-Crawler spends the rest of the day speaking with the goblins in the strange language, which she is clearly far more comfortable speaking than she is gnollish, and the pilgrims listen to her intently. Rickshaw, who is riding atop Slowdeath with you and Glowshine, reckons the tongue used is Seraphic, spoken by the gods of the human pantheon, some of the more sinister members of which are also worshiped by goblinkind, and their servants.

Glowshine and Rickshaw ride with you for the whole journey, and you spend a good chunk of it grooming the former as she holds the reins. It is a biological fact that Glowshine is no threat to your authority, so you see no issue in occasionally showing submissive behavior towards her to reward her intelligence and feed her massive ego. She is more wealthy than you are, so aside from the Frogshark, the only thing you have of value to her is your praise, which you can tell she desperately craves. As the day progresses, Glowshine opens up to you, and between her and Rickshaw you learn her life story.

On the day Glowshine and her three female littermates were deemed unworthy to be reared as an alpha, her pack was escorting a Kobold Caravan lead by Rickshaw's father, who spared the girlchilds the death that usually awaits unworthy females by buying them from the pack. Daddy Rickshaw's plan was to sell the three gnolls to goblin slavers, and while this panned out for her sisters, Glowshine was too puny for his buyers, so he kept her as an apprentice. Glowshine spent seven years with Rickshaw's business, learning to handle money and make drugs, before joining her first pack.

Pack life proved miserable for a runt like Glowshine, who was constantly picked on by her fellow females on account of her size, and physically and sexually assaulted by the males as she was the rare female small enough to push around. After several months of this she discovered she was pregnant, and slipped away so as to spare her litter the same fate, vowing to never again be part of a pack until she could make herself so valuable that everybody from the alpha on down would treasure her.

That was eleven years ago. Since then she has run and work for several caravans, including Rickshaw's, taught herself nearly everything there is to known about the kobold arts of pharmacy, spent three years working as a goblin slave driver to toughen herself up and the basics of almost every civilized language, built herself a small fortune, and trained intensely with a lethal steel axe to make up for her small size. She had felt that she was ready to give pack life a try for about a year now, but had been rejected by four alpha females before you came along. She tells you that she wants nothing more than to prove the alpha's who abused and rejected her wrong by making your pack mightier than theirs.

Glowshine reveals that her four surviving children, as well as much of her wealth, are tied up working for the various Kobold caravans she invests in. She suggests that she would like to keep her sons employed in the trade to maintain her contacts, but would be honored if you accepted her daughters once the pack was big enough to support more females. Rickshaw jokingly begs you to take her sons as well, as one of them works for a competing medical supply caravan.

---

After traveling for the day is complete and camp is set up, entertainment begins. Today's exhibition is a traditional clawboxing match between two males, Dingo and Bone-Saw-Saw. From what you understand the pair are fierce rivals who share the same mother but are not of the same litter. You are not expecting much of a fight, as although Bone-Saw-Saw is a healthy and good sized gnoll, Dingo is the third largest member of the pack (behind only yourself and Zit), and built like a well chiseled dwarven statue.

As expected, Dingo dominates his brother, landing punch after punch and knocking Bone-Saw-Saw down within the first two minutes. To your surprise, however, the smaller gnoll is quick to get back on his feet and resume the fight, hurling vicious insults at his brother. This happens again, and again. For the better part of an hour, Bone-Saw-Saw eats punches and slashes, all the while talking trash as if he was the one winning. Eventually Zit has jump in and break the fight up, declaring Dingo the winner over Bone-Saw-Saw's protests. You can't recall ever watching a clawboxing match that was either longer or more onesided.

The fallout quickly turns into a headache for you. Bone-Saw-Saw is clearly woozy, or in possession of a 'boxers high' in Doc Rickshaw's words. It is unlikely he will be anything more than a liability during the upcoming elf hunt in his condition, but telling such a clearly prideful gnoll he can't fight would clearly be a grievous insult.

Your beta-females then proceed to step in and further complicate things. The sweet and kindly Echo hovers over the defeated Bone-Saw-Saw, licking clean his wounds and whispering words of encouragement in his ear. He whispers something back that makes her blush, and then rise to declare that "I have decided that I would like my first litter to have the iron will and tongue of brave Bone-Saw-Saw. Until he gets me pregnant, no other male shall enter me!"

This in turn inspires the vain Glowshine to step up and triumphantly raise Dingo's arm. "Dingo is the victor here, and deserves a superior prize to that which his brother won. My offspring shall be WINNERS, so until I next fall pregnant the most treasured parts of my perfectly hideous body will by Dingo's and Dingo's alone."

On the surface, neither Glowshine nor Echo has done anything too unusual. A female has every right to pick the father of her next litter so long as at least one beta-female in the pack remains open to all comers, and as she is the youngest beta female, it is more than acceptable for the others to leave Cra-Crawler bearing the brunt without first consulting her. Cra-Crawler, however, is only ever taken by a handful of the bravest males, as she insists on including her deadly wasp in all aspects of sex and courtship. You can see this arrangement leaving most of the pack high and dry, which would render the left out males rowdy and frustrated. You see a look of glee spread across Cra-Crawler's face, (she clearly dosn't mind the prospect of more playmates), and panic across those of some of the males as others begin to put two and two together. You even catch Glowshine briefly wince, as if she has just realized what she has done, but you know she is too proud and Dingo too scary for her to take it back.

Bone-Saw-Saw breaks the tension by staggering to his feet, spitting some blood from his mouth, fetching a length of rope, and woozily proposing a game of tug-o-war to celebrate his and his brother's good fortune.

[IronyOwl]

Who knew managing a pack of depraved cannibals would be such a headache...

Also I did not realize male gnolls were so tiny. Fear the wrath of our mighty dogelings!

Bone-Saw-Saw is shaping up to be our finest meatshield. This pleases me.


So... first things first, tug-of-war! Yaaaaaaaaaaay!

...then we figure out how to get our pack some action. Um. Maybe consider if non-gnoll females will suffice, and if so check if any members of the trader's caravan or cultist pack are willing to serve as rather high-volume whores?

Otherwise our only option may be to acclimate the rest of our pack to that damned wasp.

Speaking of which, we should check on whether it's possible for that thing to communicate with us directly. I assume not, but it's probably more eloquent and proactive than her.

On the bright side, now we have an easy out for keeping Bone-Saw-Saw away from the elf hunt- he has to stay behind and protect Echo and the rest of our squishies!

[Weirdsound]

Eh, time to give a primer on Gnollish Biology:

Gnollish growth is directly tied to nursing. A gnoll will reach a minimum 'adult size' (about 3.2-3.9 ft) and develop basic language and social skills at around six or seven months of age. Once a gnoll reaches this point, it can either be weaned to trigger a brief adolescence of fast mental development followed by puberty, or kept at the teat for further growth. Further growth depends on the potency of the mother's milk, which in turn largely depends on how long the mother was nursed as a child, but is typically a game of diminishing returns. The average beta-female can nurse up her young to one and a half times their 'adult size' in about four years. In most packs, social norms dictate that children reared by beta-females are allotted a maximum height, usually set at three inches shorter than the alpha.

The milk of an alpha female is a special case. When a gnollish girlchild reaches adult size, the alpha female will judge it and decide to kill it on the spot, nurse it as an alpha, or postpone such judgement till a later date. Over the course of about a decade, an alpha female can raise a young gnoll who has reached adult size to 1.3-2 times the size it was at the time she started nursing it over the course of about a decade. Clever alpha females let the gnolls they wish to nurse themselves grow as large as possible off their mother's milk before putting it on their own teat, but even impatient alphas usually start with an adopted child somewhat bigger than 'adult size' as between deciding to nurse a child and actually nursing it they must first deliver a litter of their own, which takes three and a half months minimum.

Gnoll size then reflects upon the quality of the pack. If a pack is well enough off to afford taking care of nursing mothers for a few years, they will output larger males, and if times are desperate, they will rush their children through puberty to obtain more able bodied pack members as soon as possible. The size of females varries far more than the size of males; The alpha female may decide a girlchild is unworthy of further nursing at any time, and can wean it to trigger puberty. A girlchild only becomes an alpha female when she reaches puberty while still nursing on an alpha's teat, which can take between eight and thirteen years depending on the nurse and nursee.

Even small gnolls are dangerous; The rule of thumb is that a well trained non-alpha gnoll can use its agility, endurance, ferocity, and natural weapons to fight with the effectiveness of a human, halfling, or dwarf six inches taller than it. Truly monstrous sized gnolls exist, the product of a child being nursed for decades off multiple alpha females. This can happen naturally, usually in a pack where the alpha has a gift sister who has nursed long enough to function as an alpha herself, but is far more common among gnolls held captive by various wizards or goblin slaveholders.

Almost all gnollish reproduction is tied to the pack. Beta-females are the only gnolls typically ready to mate at any given time. Males require the presence of an alpha female to become interested, and alpha females require the presence of a girlchild who has reached adult size but not yet reached puberty. Beta females living away from the pack can yield half-breeds, usually with goblins. Male gnollblins are almost indistinguishable from regular goblins, while females can pass for normal gnolls with a thinner layer of fur. Gnolls can also interbreed with hyenas, creating the infamous 'Gnollish Worg', a quadabedial creature larger than a horse, smarter than a human, and more magically potent than an elf. For obvious reasons the 'civilized folk' have long since hunted all subterranian hyena species to extinction.

[Urist Mc Dwarf]

Tell Bone Saw-Saw that we need him for a special mission for the upcoming fight. This mission should be safe and sneaky.

[Weirdsound]

(Sorry there was no update yesterday. There wont be a full one tonight either. Tomorrow I intend to get through the elf raid, so here is a mini-update to help you plan for that.)

After playing the first round, you sit out the rest of the pack tug-o-war session to contemplate the elves. If Cra-Crawler speaks the truth, you will encounter the elves tomorrow or the following day. You have hedged your bets and not told any of the others, in case the young prophet is full of shit and so as not to spook any of your guests with the prospect of a fight. If all goes well, this is how you envision it going down...

You have timed the next to travel days to largely coincide with night on the surface. As you approach, your pack will begin to notice the scents and tracks of elves. You, Glowshine, Zit, or one of the better educated males will then suggest that it is likely a bridal party: easy pickings. After easing any concerns of the merchants and pilgrims, the pack will move as one and hopefully both find and encircle the elfish camp. By attacking at night, you have a chance of catching them asleep, but yout can't count on that; Gnolls packs on the hunt are often noisy (your kind prefers to wear down prey through intimidation and an extended chase), and you doubt your males have the discipline or you the experience in military command to change that.

Once the raid begins it will be imperative to find and eliminate the bride, a practicing druid who would be both the biggest threat on the field and far too dangerous to keep as a prisoner. Once she has been dealt with, assuming the guards only carry traditional elfish wooden arms, the rest of the fight should be trivial, especially if you intend to take the elves as dead meat. Slowdeath alone should be able shrug off wooden weapons and tear apart any number of elves. If you want them alive, and they choose not to surrender, you will need some sort of plan to subdue them. You have the weighted nets that Glowshine purchased, but those are only good for five elves max and could be thwarted if any are carrying a knife. Slowdeath is smart enough to fight in a non-lethal fashion, and is quite proficient at crushing limbs with his pincers if you are willing to haul crippled elves.

Zit will also be at an advantage if you give the order to take the prey alive, as your alpha-male has sworn a druidic oath to only ever cast with the intent to kill. You have seen a few demonstrations of his magic against animal prey; His preferred spell causes a fit of coughing so intense that the victim typically hacks up their own lungs, and he claims to have a few other tricks as well. Without magic, Zit would be fighting with a wood staff, and his intimidating barbed claw-hooks, which you know from experience can get stuck in a victim and as such may prove a liability when engaging multiple foes.

If you want to bring the Frogsharks, you will either need to commit to a lethal fighting style or provide riders to control them; The beasts will simpily try to gorge themselves of elf if left to their own devices. You have five pack members light enough to ride the beasts without hindering their impressive mobility to consider, and giving any one of them a frogshark without specificly saying beforehand that it is just for this specific hunt would be a pretty big deal for that individual.

Glowshine of course wants badly to ride one of the beasts, although her weapon of choice is ill fit for the job.

Echo, although freakishly tall for a frogshark rider, has a lightweight body made for flight, and likely wouldn't encumber the beast. Again, however, her chosen weapon, a machete, is not terribly well suited for a mounted soldier, and she might be of more use to you in the air... or on the backlines giving Bone-Saw-Saw a reason to stay out of things.

There are three smaller males in the pack that you find to be particularly well suited as riders. Rotbreath owns a high quality copper-headed bone spear of orcish construction. Two-Fangs-Missing owns a lesser wooden spear, but spent some time in the pack of The Alpha Trumpet, and has riding experience. Bloodcoat only owns a simple rock blade, but has proven to be highly intelligent, savagely opprotunistic, and deeply devoted to you; He also has a gimpy leg that could render him a liability if left on foot.

Once your pack picks up the trail, things will likely move quick, so you best plan ahead as much as possible now.

[Eric Blank]

Move ahead with the plan. Let Echo scout ahead when you come upon the scent of the elves, and report exactly where they are. Remind her to take it slow and cautious, hide herself, and note any activity, where the guards are if she can see them, or likely hiding spots they may be using. Ask her to note any escape route you'd need to cover, or use, or a path around the party without disturbing them.

See if glowshine can make any toxins that would disable without killing. Don't hint at why, but ask her to have some on hand "just in case you feel like taking something alive." If she can, and the time comes, then the males with bows can dip their arrows in this toxin, and perhaps the wound from the arrow will be the only one they need receive.

Ask cra-crawler if the wasp has given her any new information.

[TheBiggerFish]

PTW.

[IronyOwl]

Damn it, I wanted that druid.

I'm wary of letting Echo scout ahead, since it's an added risk for little gain. The one exception would be escape routes, and even that's more because we need a place to dump our cripples. Bone-Saw-Saw and Bloodcoat can be on interception duty.

Otherwise, we and Zit can ride Slowdeath into battle, plowing through any elves in our way and trying to head for whoever looks most like a druid. Zit alone is supposedly roughly even with the target, so with us and Slowdeath involved it shouldn't be difficult.

For taking them alive... not sure. Nets, obviously, maybe Glowshine's poison as suggested... otherwise, just wrestle them to the ground? We could bring the frogsharks in to help pin them down if necessary. Temporary riders only, methinks.

Another point of note: We should keep an eye out for any potential mental/morale effects on the elves. It could be worth it if letting the druid limp off will get the guards to surrender, or taking the groom hostage will get the druid to stop fighting, or something like that.

[Weirdsound]

Chieftess Venomclaw of the Wicked Song:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Healthy Adult Alpha Female Gnoll

Gnolls are savage scavengers and predators well adapted to the low light conditions of the darklands. Gnolls have higher than average endurance and agility for humanoids their size, and are impervious to most diseases and infections. Even supernatural curses and conditions are less likely to take when they target a gnoll.

As a young alpha female, you stand about 5'10, and likely have another 5-6 inches to grow. Your retractable claws can rend even the toughest skins and leathers, and your powerful jaw muscles can crunch through thin layers of metal (although doing so would likely break your teeth). Male gnolls you invite to join your pack will quickly come to see you as sister, friend, living goddess, and perfectly hideous sex symbol. You are presently unintrested in reproduction, and as an alpha female, can only be driven into heat by the extended presence of a gnollish girlchild.

Your fur is naturally soft and bright grey, but like most gnolls it is presently a matted reddish-brown due to your habit of rolling around in mud and gore and your aversion to bathing. Like most of your kind you suffer from a lack of modesty and an excess of fur that allows you to generally conduct your business naked, but as the leader of a pack, you might wear jewelry, piercings, or a small amount of clothing to flaunt your status.

Skills:

-Master arachnid trainer
-Great speaker of Gnollish (The native language of the gnolls. A Beast language with some Goblin influence)
-Accomplished rider
-Accomplished horn player
-Talented speaker of Savage Undercommon (The native language of the Kobolds, heavily influenced by Draconian and the Beast Languages)
-Talented polearm user
-Talented fish/amphibian trainer
-Skilled tracker
-Skilled reptile trainer
-Competent mammal trainer
-Novice speaker of Civilized Undercommon (A derivation of the goblin language used as a common tongue by the mighty underground kingdoms)

Inventory:

Silver tipped wood pike
Copper warhorn
Elf leather loincloth
Silk Anklet [Studded with Troll Knucklebones and Copper]
Map and Deed to Blackpool Shaft
Coinpurse
          -4.75 Opal Chips (A flat cross-section of opal roughly 1 inch by 3 inches. Used as currency by gnolls and kobolds)
          -Small Chitin Key to Blackpool Shaft


Pets and Allies:

-Slowdeath the Titanic Mule Scorpion (A lethal arachnid the size of a large horse. Amphibious. Highly intelligent. Trained as a mount and personal pet. Object impaled, pinning mouth-part to face.)
-Sir and Lady Carrion, the Frogsharks (Cow sized hybrid monsters with the body of a bullfrog and the jaws and face of a shark. Amphibious. Trained to fight on their own, or as a mount for a small male gnoll)
-x3 Kitten Sized Spiderlings (What could they grow into?)

-Zit the Gnollish Druid (Your Alpha Male. A perfectly hideous physical specimen who claims to practice Kobold magic)
-Echo the Halfbreed Hunter (A sweet young lady with silent flight and amazing powers of perception)
-Cra-Crawler the Mystic (A strange beta-female even younger than you. Owns a frightening pet that she claims tells her the future)
-Glowshine the Pusher (A beta female with the skill set to make, market, and sell drugs. Scrawny, but owns a mean steel axe)

-15 Assorted Gnollish Males (They vary in size and build between 'Smallish Halfling' and 'Well Built Dwarf'. Armed with Rock, Wood, and Bone weapons. Most possess basic combat and survival skills)
          -Bone-Saw-Saw (Badly concussed)

'Quiet Time' begins following tug-o-war, and you manage to pull Glowshine aside before she the opportunity to invite Dingo to her sleeping skins. You inquire if she can make a drug that can disable but not kill and can be used to coat weapons and ammo. She considers the question silently before a moment before promising to get back to you and scampering off to Doc Rickshaw's camp.

You next check in with Cra-Crawler, and ask if there have been any further revelations regarding the elf hunt. She nods shyly and answers. "Y-yes, yes your awesomeness. Once we pick up their trail, you should take Glowshine's advice. Her ambition will yield the greatest possible results in this enterprise."

Nodding, you pause to consider her words, and figure that if Cra-Crawler is right about finding the elves, that you shall trust her to be right about catching them.

Returing to you sleeping skin, you instruct Zit to heat up some wax to coat his barbed hook-claws so that he may safely groom you. While you wait, Glowshine scurries in to report on the drug you requested. "I have almost everything needed to make what you request, but after checking in with Rickshaw and some of the males who know the herbs, bugs, and fungi of Iron Canyon, it seems my best option is to buy what else I need at Camp Decay. Once I have the ingredients, we will need to find a place to settle down for a bit, as the formula needs to cook continuously for several days. I wouldn't recommend lingering at Camp Decay though... There will likely be other gnoll packs around looking for work, which potentially means more extablished alpha females to steal our males, and the presence of girlchilds to draw you into heat prematurely."

You thank Glowshine, and wish her and Dingo only the most perverse pleasure before sending her on her way so that you might settle into your evening routine.

---

Bone-Saw-Saw and Echo ride with you today. You want them on hand to receive your specific instructions should the pack encounter signs of elves. You listen in on your passengers, and it is clear why Echo's alpha gave up on nursing her; The poor girl has fallen head over heels into the trap of romantic love, a condition undesirable for any Gnollish female and especially an Alpha. You can't entirely blame her; Bone-Saw-Saw's face is a heartmeltingly hideous mess following last night's fight, but Echo seems just as existed about the prospect of caring for his injuries as she is about the aesthetic enhancements they afford her new mate. Although such devotion to a male is more than strange, her nurturing attitude at least affords you confidence that she will make a great mother - so long as she is preventing from coddling her litter too much.

Echo questions her mate about his background and life story, and manages to draw a somewhat coherent narrative from him. He was born to a particularly fertile mother who was still nursing her previous litter, including Dingo, to adult size. Forced to compete with much larger siblings for a very limited supply of milk, Bone-Saw-Saw was the only member of his litter to survive infancy. Shortly after Bone-Saw-Saw reached adult size, the alpha of his pack declared a female of Dingo's litter as worthy of your nursing as a future alpha. This earned Dingo's entire litter preferential treatment, and Bone-Saw-Saw, who nursed the same teat, benefited as well.

Numbering six in total, plus Bone-Saw-Saw, the members of Dingo's litter were groomed as the personal lackeys of the pack's alpha male, and accompanied him into battle. One fateful day, his pack aligned with several others to attempt to attack the den of a far more powerful alpha female, but was thwarted in battle, hunted, and destroyed by victor. Of the siblings, only Bone-Saw-Saw and Dingo survived the destruction of their pack, and have since been inseparable friends and fiery rivals, cooperating and competing to define and carry on the legacy of their mother's bloodline.

Bone-Saw-Saw is oddly vague about the identity of the pack he was born into, as well as the circumstances of its destruction, but perhaps because of the concussion he lets just enough information slip for you to make the following disturbing inference: The pack that raised the brothers was one of the three that tried to attack Mastiff Nest, the massive anthill where The Alpha Trumpet's pack made their den. The battle of Mastiff Nest took place in your second year on The Alpha Trumpet's teat, and resulted in the deaths of your natural mother and siblings before the invaders were repelled. After ensuring her den was secure and properly burying her dead in the stomachs of the survivors, The Alpha Trumpet hunted down and destroyed the packs who wronged her without mercy. You traveled with the hunters so as not to be separated from the milk of your Alpha, and were even allowed to strike finishing blows on several occasions.

The Alpha Trumpet later told you that she chose to dole out such harsh justice so that your eventual reign as pack chieftess would not be tainted by a thirst for revenge. "A good pack is lead on whim and instinct," she implored you, "never emotions or grudges. Prey should be chosen by present circumstances, never by past."

These thought and memories sour your mood, and a lack of elf signs does nothing to settle it by the time camp is set up. For the day's entertainment, the four Goblin missionaries try to pressure Cra-Crawler into giving a sermon by telling everybody that in Goblin Country she is considered a child prodigy in the fields of oration and theology. Cra-Crawler refuses the call, however, by saying that her audience is primarily gnolls, and that she doesn't feel her grasp of the gnollish language is solid enough for casual conversation, much less public speaking. Instead, Bone-Saw-Saw and Dingo compete once more, to see who can please their new mate the most times in a half hour. Bone-Saw-Saw wins this time, having the distinct advantage of a younger and more energetic partner.

You know Cra-Crawler, although shy and awkward, speaks very well, even poetically, and that her only real verbal fault is a stutter. You wonder what sort of upbringing she might have had if Gnollish isn't her first language, and how high her personal standards might be if she considers her ability to talk to her own race subpar.

It takes an extended grooming effort on the part of several males to silence the thoughts of the day long enough for you to fall asleep.

---

The following day, the pack starts picking up elf signs in the second hour of travel. Cra-Crawler soon repeats her prophecy that the elves are a bridal party, defenseless save for two guards and a Druid. Her word is enough to convince the pilgrims that hunting the elves is a good idea, but Rickshaw seems less than sure, especially when you propose the dangerous business of trying to take them alive. This is when Glowshine chimes in with a suggestion.

"Give me two males for protection, venerable Vennomclaw, and five hours. I know this canyon. The elves will be camped at a spot called the Ferrous Falls about an hour ahead. I will approach them as a humble traveler, and when I learn they are a bridal party, I shall join the celebration by handing the elves drugs to hinder their judgement and fighting ability, and lure them into swimming in the pool beneath the falls. If you time your approach then, the prey will be both hindered by my gifts, and completely at the mercy of your aquatic beasts."

Rickshaw likes the idea, so much so that he offers Glowshine a bottle of Steel Cobra venom, said to hinder druidism, to mix into her batch of drugs. You, keeping Cra-Crawler's prophecy in mind, agree to the plan as well. You give her your two largest non-alpha males, which includes her mate Dingo, and send Glowshine on her way, agreeing to follow in five hours.

The wait is excruciating. Tensions are high, and many worry about Glowshine. Cra-Crawler dosn't help things when she publicly refuses to guarantee the smaller female's survival, and only states that her going 'is for the better'.

The one-armed orc who travels with Rickshaw reveals herself to be female, and noting that your pack seems frustrated and pent up, spends the time selling herself for what few opal-chips exist among the males of your pack. This inspires envy and further frustration, to the point where Zit decides to shut the enterprise down for fear of a gang rape on the prostitute and/or her clients.

You have to position your beasts between the pack and Rickshaw, who refuses to distribute alcohol as he dose not want his protection blundering drunk into a fight.

Eventually the time passes, and the group marches, tensions still high. 30 minutes out from your destination, you deploy Echo to scout ahead, and leave the pilgrims and merchants behind, 'guarded' by Bone-Saw-Saw and Bloodcoat. Fifteen minutes out, Echo returns to the group, and reports that pretty much everybody is either in or immediately around the pool. With the water in play, you put Rotbreath and Two-Fangs-Missing on the frogsharks, warning that this is only a temporary honor, and that there will be hell to pay if they let their mounts needlessly taste elf meat.

Your pack surrounds the pool before the drugged elves can figure out what is going on. When they do figure things out, one of them grabs tiny Glowshine, who seems to have used the drugs herself, and threatens to drown her. You respond by riding Slowdeath into the pool. The Titanic Mule Scorpion is a halfbreed, created by crossing a fully aquatic arachnid known to gnollkind as the 'Cavern Whale' with the cat sized yet borderline sentient Sorcerer's Scorpion. On land, Slowdeath is a lumbering giant, useful more for caring capacity and killing potential than speed, but in the water, your prized pet is the functional equivalent of a large, armored, and venomous shark that happens to consider you its mother.

Spurred on by only a few basic commands from its master, the clever bug charges the elf holding your underling, latches a pincher around Glowshine with the utmost care, and easily prys the small gnoll from her captor. You and your mount then circle the pool, feinting charges at various elves. The Frogshark riders join you, while those on the ground threaten all who try to flee the water with weapons drawn. After several minutes of this, the prey surrenders.

As they leave the pool with their hands above their heads, you line them up against a natural rock wall and take a head count. Eight female elves, one male elf, and one male dwarf. You figure the latter two must be guards. Glowshine and Great-Bruise, your third largest male, are accounted for, but Dingo is nowhere to be seen. Glowshine explains that she noticed the bride had looked curious, so she gave her mate permission to seduce the elf, and the pair had wandered up the canyon thirty minutes ago. Glowshine points the way, you nod, and Zit follows after them with a few males in tow. Echo is sent to give the all clear to the merchants and pilgrims.

Once they leave, things quickly get interesting as the dwarf works up his courage, breaks from the wall, dodges a few arrows fired by your pack, grabs a steel sword from the ground, and charges you and Slowdeath. The dwarf manages to bury his blade into your mount's head, and the scorpion lets out a bloodcurling scream of agony. You panic for a second, as blows to the head are seldom good and you couldn't see exactly where it landed from your position perched atop the victim. Your fear largely dissapates when your beloved pet responds by pinning his attacker down with his pinchers and killing the naked dwarf by shoving a stinger the size of a pike-head into his brain stem.

Those assembled fall quiet as you climb down and inspect the damage. The sword has pinned Slowdeath's right upper mouthpart to his face. The injury will likely hinder your steed's eating speed, cause it terrible pain, and could become infected, but Slowdeath's life is in no immediate danger. Your old friend wines for your help, but all you can do is console it; You know well enough that impaled objects should be left to more talented medics than yourself. You hope Rickshaw is not too cowardly to try and work on a set of jaws about as big as he is.

While you deal with your animal, you send a few gnolls to where the elves had set up their tents. They report back that the elves keep five Pegasus and two unicorn. Although valuable and highly useful creatures, you know that surface grazers cannot survive underground for long, so they will likely best serve your pack as meat. Glowshine suggests that you could try to sell them to Rickshaw, who is heading to conduct business on the surface, but tempers you expectations by stating that he likely couldn't afford even one of the animals at their true price, and might not be willing to assume their value in debt either.

Likewise you must ponder the fate of the elves. There are ten of them, more than half the amount of Gnolls in your pack. You doubt it will be long before escape attempts and other hijinx begin with that ratio of prisoner to guard. Killing some now would further anger the rest, but you don't feel entirely safe keeping this many around.

As you are pondering this, Zit's party returns with Dingo and a kicking, screaming bride. She is easily the most dangerous and valuable thing procured. Druidic magic varies wildly from caster to caster, so there is no real way to anticipate how she might do your pack harm while held captive.

Zit start organizing the other males to take turns raiding the camp area, while the rest guard the prisoners by the pool. It is custom that the males get first dibs on all non-meat loot, a good chunk of which will eventually be given to you and the other females in the form of gifts and tribute.

A fight breaks out over the steel armor belonging to the dwarf who hurt Slowdeath, which he had apparently taken off to go swimming. Great Bruise and Dingo are both about the right size. Great Bruise claims he should get it as it fits him better, while Dingo claims it on the grounds that he is bigger than Great Bruise, and that he needs it to better carry out his important duty of protecting Glowshine. If neither you nor Zit step in, the matter will likely be decided during entertainment time at some point in the near future. The wood armor of the elf guard is too tall and narrow to be a good fit for anybody in the pack.

You decide to call it a day here. The elves have already kindly set up food and tents for you pack, and you are sure the merchants and pilgrims will have plenty of ideas for your find, if you don't have proposals for them first. After celebrating the successful hunt, however, it might be wise to drive your pack to travel longer than normal each day. Doing so would give the gnolls, who tend to have better endurance than elves, further advantage over their prisoners, and the thought of loitering too long in a canyon overlooked by civilized surface villages while keeping civilized surface prisoners seems a bit dangerous.

[escaped lurker]

Entice Rickshaw to do his best work on Slowdeath, by giving him one of the unicorns as-is (after some haggling over it. not like a merchant like him, isn't going to think of this by himself)
Our prized mount, is a great asset. We will have more use of it being healed by expert hands, than some dead horse-meat (nourishing though it might be, considering their magical nature).

We should give respect where it is due - to Cra-Crawlers ability, and Glowshines capability
I'm not quite sure about the "how" though.
Cra-Crawler, was pleased by the whole partnering-up thing of the other two beta-females. Maybe we can entice the currently still wavering menfolk into a dare, if we observe the act while nearby (as reassurance against the wasp) and spurr them on? We might want some more of a connection to the wasp-thingy anyways. Killing two and a half birds with one stone.
Glowshine, we already had promised to let her take a shot on one of the mounts. I don't think we should promise her the ride just yet either. Maybe us having a spar with her, while she is mounted, as to pre-determine the result? (But if it fails, we have an even bigger problem on our hands rewarding her). I'd preferably just tell her - in a suitable tone, considering our standing - that we start to like her jib, and that she might expect something good if she wishes for something (which is not one of the mounts)

About the prisoners
Ask Glowshine to make a knock-out drug for the druid, and or a magic power inhibiting one. We needn't care much about her long-term health either, unless it would break a possible deal with the gobs. Should the goblins not want her either way, or the former options not be viable, well. Let's just eat her - she's not worth the threat she could pose.
For the other prisoners, let's take the added precaution of drawing their blood - not enough to kill them, but not far from it either. If they are woozy from blood-loss, they won't be able to put up a fight, much less flee.

Asking Cra-Crawler about any insights, might be a good idea.
Goes along with the above option of rewarding her, in which we should mention that she has proven her ability, and that we will consider her advice quite carefully. Might want to frame it in such a way, that she is more likely to speak up about her insights, too.

[Weirdsound]

Chieftess Venomclaw of the Wicked Song:

Spoiler (click to show/hide)

Healthy Adult Alpha Female Gnoll

Gnolls are savage scavengers and predators well adapted to the low light conditions of the darklands. Gnolls have higher than average endurance and agility for humanoids their size, and are impervious to most diseases and infections. Even supernatural curses and conditions are less likely to take when they target a gnoll.

As a young alpha female, you stand about 5'10, and likely have another 5-6 inches to grow. Your retractable claws can rend even the toughest skins and leathers, and your powerful jaw muscles can crunch through thin layers of metal (although doing so would likely break your teeth). Male gnolls you invite to join your pack will quickly come to see you as sister, friend, living goddess, and perfectly hideous sex symbol. You are presently unintrested in reproduction, and as an alpha female, can only be driven into heat by the extended presence of a gnollish girlchild.

Your fur is naturally soft and bright grey, but like most gnolls it is presently a matted reddish-brown due to your habit of rolling around in mud and gore and your aversion to bathing. Like most of your kind you suffer from a lack of modesty and an excess of fur that allows you to generally conduct your business naked, but as the leader of a pack, you might wear jewelry, piercings, or a small amount of clothing to flaunt your status.

Skills:

-Master arachnid trainer
-Great speaker of Gnollish (The native language of the gnolls. A Beast language with some Goblin influence)
-Accomplished rider
-Accomplished horn player
-Talented speaker of Savage Undercommon (The native language of the Kobolds, heavily influenced by Draconian and the Beast Languages)
-Talented polearm user
-Talented fish/amphibian trainer
-Skilled tracker
-Skilled reptile trainer
-Competent mammal trainer
-Novice speaker of Civilized Undercommon (A derivation of the goblin language used as a common tongue by the mighty underground kingdoms)

Inventory:

Silver tipped wood pike
Copper warhorn
Elf leather loincloth
Silk Anklet [Studded with Troll Knucklebones and Copper]
Map and Deed to Blackpool Shaft
Coinpurse
          -4.75 Opal Chips (A flat cross-section of opal roughly 1 inch by 3 inches. Used as currency by gnolls and kobolds)
          -Small Chitin Key to Blackpool Shaft


Pets and Allies:

-Slowdeath the Titanic Mule Scorpion (A lethal arachnid the size of a large horse. Amphibious. Highly intelligent. Trained as a mount and personal pet. Object impaled, pinning mouth-part to face.)
-Sir and Lady Carrion, the Frogsharks (Cow sized hybrid monsters with the body of a bullfrog and the jaws and face of a shark. Amphibious. Trained to fight on their own, or as a mount for a small male gnoll)
-x3 Kitten Sized Spiderlings (What could they grow into?)

-Zit the Gnollish Druid (Your Alpha Male. A perfectly hideous physical specimen who claims to practice Kobold magic)
-Echo the Halfbreed Hunter (A sweet young lady with silent flight and amazing powers of perception)
-Cra-Crawler the Mystic (A strange beta-female even younger than you. Owns a frightening pet that she claims tells her the future)
-Glowshine the Pusher (A beta female with the skill set to make, market, and sell drugs. Scrawny, but owns a mean steel axe)

-15 Assorted Gnollish Males (They vary in size and build between 'Smallish Halfling' and 'Well Built Dwarf'. Armed with Rock, Wood, and Bone weapons. Most possess basic combat and survival skills)
          -Bone-Saw-Saw (Badly concussed)

As soon as Rickshaw arrives on the scene you show him Slowdeath's injury. The Kobold is far from thrilled by the prospect of preforming a painful procedure on a creature that could kill him without even a hint of difficulty. He softens a bit when you show him the horses, and begins to haggle. The Kobold drives a tough bargain, and agrees to preform the procedure if you will sell him the entire lot for two hundred dwarven gold in interest free credit. Glowshine, still too drugged to be of much help with the actual haggling, mentions that the steeds are likely worth ten times that amount... a piece. Rickshaw counters that he will be risking his life on the procedure, that he isn't even sure he will be able to find buyers for the merchandise before his travels bring him back underground, and that two hundred gold is still a significant windfall for a Gnoll pack your size. You know at least that his last point is correct.

Before you can answer, Rickshaw draws a bit closer to Slowdeath to examine the injury. "It is impaled through both the thing's face and mouthpart. Artery or not, I'm going to cauterize the wound on the face to be safe once the sword is out, so no point looking that up. But the mouthpart complicates things... if it is damaged beyond repair, it would be much quicker and safer for me to amputate rather than try to remove an impaled object from two separate bodyparts. He has three spare bitey bits, and should be fine either way. I think I have an anatomy chart for the Cavern Whale on me... hopefully that is close enough for me to figure out where the facial nerves and muscles are on your crossbreed. I'll need to do some studying, so you have a few hours to consider my final offer."

Leaving the good doctor to his studies, you make sure your injured and agitated pet is properly tied down and as comfortable as possible before going to reward the beta-females who made today's victory possible. You dare some of the more frustrated males to brave the wasp and mate with Cra-Crawler, promising to observe the act and provide your blessing and protection. It doesn't take long before you get a couple of hesitant takers.

This private show kills a good amount of time; Cra-Crawler receives mates with a refinement beyond her years, warming them up with seductively gory poetry before moving into foreplay, which she drags out so as to let her wasp familiarize itself with its new plaything. Once the main event begins, the insect starts prodding both participants with jaws and stinger, never injecting venom or even drawing blood.

What little you know about the wasp terrifies you. In your birth pack, bug training was strictly divided by gender, so you always studied arachnids rather than insects, but the males would always speak of the cat sized Necroid Wasp with the utmost fear and reverence. Dwelling in parts of the cavern so deep that even gnolls rarely visit, its sting is said to bring swift death; No cure, no exceptions. the best treatment is said to be dismemberment, as sometimes victims rise as the sort of swift undead husk that only the greatest necromancer could hope to create or control. Furthermore the wasp is said to exist in a state of life and undeath at the same time, which means neither druidism nor necromancy can break its will, and this, when combined with the insect's lethality and aggression, makes domestication completely impossible. The more you dwell on it, the more frightened you are for both parties.

As if reading your mind, Cra-Crawler breaks her gaze away from her partner and locks eyes with you. Stretching her neck, she places her finger on a major artery between her chin and torso, made flush with blood and highly visible by the current strenuous activity she is partaking in. As if on cue, the wasp climbs to the indicated spot and delivers its legendary sting, pumping an entire load of venom into its master's bloodstream. After a few seconds, Cra-Crawler pulls her pet loose and licks the blood and venom from its sting before placing it on her partner's head, which is currently buried in her lap and oblivious to what has just occurred. The female holds a claw to her lip, to indicate a secret, before breaking eye-contact with you and returning her undivided attention to her mate.

You observe for the next several minutes, transfixed, as Cra-Crawler concludes her mating session. The only ill effect from the sting that you notice is that the small wound is slow to clot, to the point that can use it as a source of red coloring to draw what you think is a goblin character meaniong 'to be above fear' on her partner's forehead before thanking him for sharing a moment of depravity with her and sending him away.

Unsure of what to say, you simply tell Cra-Crawler that she has proven herself and that you value her insight, before promising that you will consider her advice quite carefully. You then ask if she has anything new to reveal. She pauses for a second, as if weighing her words. "For now... for now only about myself. And about yourself. We are going to goblin territory, where I was raised. As the pilgrims say, I am known there. Much loved as well. They will tell you I was weak and stupid for... for giving into my baser insticts and running off to join a pack. Th-throwing away my education and potential."

She shakes her head. "T-they don't understand. I-I'm doing this because it makes me wiser. An Alpha Chieftess... You are god to us and for us and over us. You will not understand this, but there is revelation in your eyes and your breath and your movement, just as there is in the wasp. My theory is that more concrete revelation can be found by c-cross referencing that of a life deity and a death deity... Perhaps even a road-map to miracles. Exceptional fortune granted me a physical link to a death goddess, but all a gnoll needs to gain the same with a life-giver is to join a pack."

Cra-Crawler rubs the wound on her neck and offers a weak smile. "The language of our race though... it is ill suited for revelation. Goddesses like you talk to followers like us as fellow mortals, so the language never needed to d-develop the cadence and reverent tones that others have. I know you are trying to look after my worldly needs... y-you want revelation to help with that. I will d-do what I can, but it is hard to find things important enough to share, but not so sacred that I would pay your divine nature an insult by speaking them in Gnollish. Rest assured that I will act in your best interests even w-when it is wrong to share what I know and hope and see."

---

Your conversation with Glowshine is far less strange. Luckily all the time you spent watching Cra-Crawler and her lucky mates has given the smallest female in your pack plenty of time to sober up. The first thing she does is apologize for getting wasted in the first place, explaining that the elves invited her to partake and she didn't want to come across as insulting or suspicious by refusing.

You ask about the Druid, and the beta-female tells you the plan is to keep her so high that her spells will likely miscast. She has some proper sedative, but not enough to get the dangerous cargo all the way through the canyon completely unconscious the whole time. The crafty merchant has already spoken to the four missionaries, and between them has come up with several ideas for the captured elves.

The goblin run Toadcotton Plantation where Glowshine used to work as an overseer is only a two day's march from Camp Decay, and would likely be looking to buy with the planting season coming up. Glowshine is confident she could negotiate the best possible purchase price for all the non-casting elves, and perhaps even turn her former employers into a useful contact for her new clan. The catch here is that to get from Camp Decay to the plantion one must navigate well patrolled goblin roads for the majority of the trip. Two days on civilized roads without running into a patrol is a bit of a stretch, so some cash and luck would be required at Camp Decay to secure safe passage for both pack and prisoners.

One of the Pilgrims happens to be the heir to Troll Tusk Fortress, the closest military installation to Camp Decay which happens to sit just off the stretch of goblin road the Pilgrims were going to help you pass anyway. Said pillgrim thinks his father would be willing to buy, either for himself or to take to market in the city. A Goblin commander could be a good friend to make, but once you enter the fort, your small pack will be at the mercy of his heavily armed installation, and you imagine there might be at least some temptation to enslave your pack along with the elves.

Another pilgrim is interested in a few elves for personal use. He would purchase three of them in exchange for a eight hundred silver debt owed to him by the stable master of camp decay. Glowshine tells you the price is a bit low, but that the transaction would be quick and safe, and that you could likely take your payment directly in beasts from the stable master.

Yet a third pilgrim knows where to find a seeder, an practitioner of the art of magical reproduction among his all male race. The seeder would break the elves down and grow multiple goblins from the useful aspects of their minds and souls. Seeders pay top price for casters, and even the fact that the other elves are highborn would make them of more value to him. The Seeder makes his home somewhere in the Saurian Shaft, a stretch of cavern controlled by goblin rebels who are less hostile tworads gnolls than the government they oppose. The pilgrim refuses to give the exact location, and offers to guide your pack to the seeder for a 25% cut of the sale price. You note that the Saurian Path, although not the most direct route, would eventually lead you to Rusty Screw Village, where your other gift brother is waiting, and is home to many impressive reptiles to hunt and tame.

Glowshine adds that if none of the offers are appealing, you can likely find a buyer for your catch at Camp Decay itself, although the bandits know a gnoll pack cannot easily travel to the major slave markets, and as such cannot be expected to give a fair price.

Sensing a pause in the speech of your most driven underling, you cut Glowshine off and thank her for her service so far. You know well by this point that she craves praise above all else, so you inform her that you like the cut of her jib. This alone likely makes the vain Gnoll's day, but you take it one step forward and inform Glowshine that although the mounts are still off limits at this time, you would like to reward her and are taking suggestions on how that might be done.

The beta-female falls silent, calculating her options, before speaking again. "I... I'm kind having trouble breaking the ice with the other females. They are both so young and niave, while I was already a cynical little shit at their level of development... I just can't relate. Could you help me fix that? Perhaps a private lunch just us girls? You, me, Echo, and Cra-Crawler... We can treat ourselves to one of the elves if you want to make it fancy. The little one with the heartwarming mole on her chin is already utterly terrified... I'm drooling to find out how she reacts to joining us for girl time."

The request is touching. That she can swallow her pride and admit her issues reflects well on your merits as an alpha; You should be mother and sister and goddess to all in your pack. On a personal note, sharing a live meal is among the most intimate of Gnollish bonding experiences, only equaled by grooming and surpassed by sex and wound-licking. Meal sharing, which easily accommodates more gnolls at once than the other three, is typically used to foster a close circle of platonic friendship outside the ties of blood, sexuality, and divinity that bind the pack. What Glowshine is really saying is that you would be worthy of her friendship even if you were not her pack leader, and what she is asking is if you feel the same about her.

You promise to consider the request, and return to the prisoners, who you order bloodletted to drain their stamina. Only the one Glowshine wants to eat is spared this fate for now, as if you decide to oblige your friend you would like the fun to last as long as possible before the meal bleeds out.

Rickshaw approaches. It is time to make up your mind on his and the other offers and requests you just fielded. You should also plan tomorrows travel. You have five days left in the canyon at this pace. If you want to push the pace to wear down the prisoners and minimize the chances the humans above catch on to your cargo and decide to mettle, you could likely complete this leg of the journey in three days. This, however, would be unpopular with the pack, and even less popular with the non-gnolls you are traveling with.

(Barring random events or the sort of fun, crazy, derailing, suggestions I know the b12 hivemind is capable of, the next turn should get us out of the canyon, and the following turn should get us to our destination. As you may have noticed, travel turns may yield background/flavor information on whoever you are riding with/near, so feel free to suggest who that is.)