LongClaw

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(Created page with "===Longclaw=== ''We were one, but some had to be left behind. Still, we hunger. Still, we eat. Still, we destroy. Nothing will stop us.'' The first loss did not affect the p...")
 

Latest revision as of 19:04, 8 July 2019

[edit] Longclaw

We were one, but some had to be left behind. Still, we hunger. Still, we eat. Still, we destroy. Nothing will stop us.

The first loss did not affect the pack initially. They were used to losing a few here or there during a feeding frenzy, so it could be adjusted for. It would take a little more work, but it would also mean less mouths to feed, and that was seen by most as a win.

All was normal when some started to act out. They grew out their claws, and took special pleasure in killing and maiming their enemies. This wasn't too different from typical gnoll behavior at first, but it only became more violent and aggressive over time.

One particularly violent gnoll, one who called herself Naarja Rot-tail, led the pack into a confrontation with a dispatch of heavily armored soldiers. The pack lost many that day, including Naaja, but she died with a sadistic smile stretched across her lips. She left this world doing precisely what she loved: maiming, butchering, and throwing caution to the wind.

It happened again two moons later, but with one key difference. When Ger Dirtmouth tried to lead the pack toward a similar dispatch of humans, she was stopped by the other gnolls at the head of the pack. They grabbed her by the scruff of the neck and held her up for all the pack to see.

They proclaimed that all who wanted to join Ger in her suicide mission were welcome to do so, but that everyone else would let the battalion pass by. There were easier targets to raid; some of the more keen-nosed of the pack had sniffed out and were tracking a caravan that was carrying a shipment of supplies that they could easily ransack.

Ger still went, of course, her claws as long as Naarja's, her mane disheveled. A small gaggle of gnolls stepped out with her, exiting the forest where the pack had stopped to attack the troupe of humans. As most, the attack was a suicide mission. Still, those who left had never looked happier.

To this day, gnolls are still born with this gene: a wildness that even other gnolls cannot tolerate. They often wander these lands, always looking for something to butcher. They can be recognized by their unruly manes and their exceptionally long claws. Some say that these gnolls are united under the banner of “Long Claw;” those truly in the know, however, know their only allegiance is to death and destruction.

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