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The steady beating of drums and the whooping laughter of Gnolls woke Tirnel up. The bright shaft of sunlight blazing through the hole in the hut's roof told the half-elf he'd overslept quite heavily. With a grunt he lifted the massive arm wrapped around his body and slipped free of Gashkarr's embrace.

Rhaz and Dagnyr had left for a hunting trip a couple of days ago and Gashkarr had agreed to keep an eye on things during their absence. Tirnel was glad to have Gash around to keep him company, seeing how he couldn't really socialize with the other slaves; their masters didn't like it one bit.

As Tirnel crouched down to pick up his shirt his eyes fell on the battered, leather-bound book with the text "The Beast of Darkwoods and Other Fantastic Stories by Brothers Grimmnar" in faded gold lettering on its front. The half-elf couldn't help but smile a little bit.

Over the past couple of months the four of them had taken up a new hobby in the form of stories. Tirnel had no idea where Rhaz and the others had managed to obtain all the story books, but he was glad nonetheless that they had. He enjoyed reading the books out loud to the three Gnolls, who in turn seemed to enjoy listening immensely. The three spottypelts had also apparently devised some kind of rotation system where Tirnel got to spend every story session on a different Gnoll's lap.

A groan from behind snapped Tirnel out of his thoughts.

Gash had risen up into a sitting position, rubbing his eyes with the back of a paw to shake away the grogginess. The pale Gnoll gave a sigh after listening to the drumming and shouting coming from outside. "Seems like some of the bitches are in heat..."

"And that's why they drum?" Tirnel asked with a raised eyebrow.

Gash smiled a small, lopsided smile at Tirnel as he got up to his feet, adjusting his loincloth into a more comfortable position at the same time. "It's a rallying call for all the Braves of the tribe to gather. Mating challenges will be issued and the worthy ones -in other words the strongest and most determined- will get to breed."

"I... I see." The half-elf replied, walking then over to the flap covering the doorway and taking a peek.

Outside, in the smack-middle of the village, a great bonfire had been erected and many Gnolls -all males by the looks of it- were dancing and bouncing wildly, whooping and yelling gleefully whilst brandishing their weapons towards the sky. A large dais had been built of wood with a throne of fur and bone placed on the highest part of it with several large cushions strewn on the rest of the platform.

Many of the cushions were already occupied by what could only be Gnoll females, slaves scurrying about to attend to their every need.

Gashkarr pushed past Tirnel, ruffling the half-elf's hair on his way "I'm expected to attend the rituals even though I will never be chosen to fight in a mating challenge. My Lord in Iron has blessed me with this sickly countenance, thankfully, and that keeps me from having to participate."

Tirnel just nodded, leaning on the door frame whilst watching Gash heading towards the wildly celebrating group.

Not long after Gash had taken his position amidst those not dancing wildly -the tall, pale Gnoll's arms crossed casually over his chest- when a chill ran down the half-elf's spine. Then the Matriarch arrived, carried on a palanquin as always and flanked by female Gnolls in some kind of religious garb; priestesses, most likely. The dancing and drumming stopped and every Gnoll and slave fell on their knees in respect.

Behind the Matriarch's palanquin marched -in two surprisingly organized rows- two dozen absolutely immense Gnolls, easily as massive as the Matriarch who towered over even Rhaz and Gashkarr. There was just something _wrong_about the two dozen warriors, something unnatural and eerie that made Tirnel's skin crawl. On closer inspection Tirnel started to get an idea as to why... More than one of them sported either hoofed feet or horns of some kind or other such aberrant characteristics.

They all wore a mismatched bits and pieces of chain- and plate armor mostly on their arms, legs and shoulders leaving their torsos bare as if to taunt their foes, their heads covered by chainmail coifs, some of which had veils made of chainmail to protect their snout. In their massive paws the Matriarch's bodyguards carried a wicked assortment of two-handed weapons: axes, spiked maces, mauls, flails, halberds and swords both curved and straight. Nobody dared to look at them and the bodyguards clearly enjoyed the fear and terror they were evoking even amongst their own kind.

The deathly silence continued as the Matriarch walked from the palanquin to her throne. A priestess ushered a trembling slave forward, the man's face ashen with terror as he offered a goblet of wine to the Matriarch.

The leader of Bloodaxe tribe scoffed at the slave but accepted drink nonetheless, chugging it down in one swig and tossing the cup away. Before the slave had a chance to scurry away the Matriarch grabbed him by the throat and hoisted him effortlessly off the ground with one arm, starting then to carve bloody sigils into the human's bare chest with a wickedly sharp claw whilst the slave squirmed and moaned in pain, the Matriarch muttering some incantation whilst she worked, though Tirnel couldn't hear what was being said.

The slave's writhing seemed to annoy the Matriarch, who flicked her thumb underneath the slave's chin with enough force to snap his neck with a sharp, audible crack. The slave went limp and the Matriarch was free to finish carving the symbols into the man's chest. Once finished she let out a roar that quite literally shook the ground and made Tirnel clamp his hands on his ears, the Gnoll leader then hurling the prepared corpse into the bonfire.

As soon as the slave's body hit the bonfire the flames exploded skywards and took on an eerie pale-green hue which faded back into the usual yellow-orange in the span of a few heartbeats, the slave's corpse nowhere in sight.

"The sacrifice has been accepted and Great Father Yenoch's eye is upon us! Fight well, Braves, for you are being watched!" The Matriarch's booming voice rang clear through the entire village. "Let the Challenges commence. The portents have been read and it is degreed that Jyrrena will be the first one to select her two Champions."

With that said the Matriarch sat down and the Gnolls rose up, screaming and shouting in exhilaration. One of the females hopped down from the dais and proceeded to walk among the males, eventually picking out two big and strong-looking males from amongst the crowd. The males then made their way into a ring made of stones and humanoid skulls, dropping their armaments outside and facing each other barehanded. With all the other Gnolls forming a ring around the battle arena, Tirnel couldn't see what was going on, but he could easily make an educated guess that an all-out brawl had begun between the two Champions.

The winner of the brawl, though badly bloodied, roared in triumph over the unconscious body of his opponent before bowing his head first at the Matriarch and then at the female that had chosen him. Jyrrena gave the male an approving nod and then started to head away towards the huts with the winner following suit, a triumphant expression on his face.

The same song-and-dance repeated all day through with the Matriarch naming a female and the female selecting two Champions to fight for the right to mate with her.

By dusk the ceremony had come to an end, the Gnolls dispersing to do their own things after the Matriarch, the priestesses and her bodyguards had left. Gashkarr also returned to Rhaz's hut, bringing with him some food and drink to share with the half-elf.

"That was... Quite the spectacle." Tirnel said to the tall brute. It had been quite fascinating for Tirnel to watch in all it's savageness. The scholar in him was practically squirming in delight whilst simultaneously lamenting the fact he couldn't really write it all down.

Gash just shrugged "Gets boring after a while. I guess Rhaz and Dag somehow guessed this would be coming and left for a hunting trip to avoid it."

The half-elf chewed on his lower lip for a second before asking tentatively "Why would Rhaz want to pass up on a chance to test his physical prowess? He really doesn't enjoy the company of females at all?"

Gash shrugged again and took a seat, digging then into a haunch of meat before replying between mouthfuls "That about sums it up, yes. He gets picked from time to time and then to avoid having to mate with one of the 'horrendous bitches' as he so politely likes to put it he has to fake a defeat and make it look convincing."

"Because outright conceding or refusing would lead to bad things." Tirnel concluded with a nod, which was mirrored by Gashkarr.

"How long do you think they'll be gone still? I'd like to get back to reading that book for the lot of you." Tirnel asked after a moment of silence during which he had helped himself to some food.

"A few days, perhaps, or maybe a week. It all depends on how far they feel like going and how sure they want to be about missing the mating ceremonies." A faint smile appeared on Gash's face "Are you worried about them?"

The half-elf shook his head slowly "Not really. I got to see Rhaz in action from a_painfully_ close distance and if half the things you've told about Dag are true, and I have no reason to doubt them mind you, then I'm sure they'll be fine."

"Go--" The pale Gnoll began, but was interrupted by a fit of hacking coughs. Soon enough the fit passed and Gash shook his head lightly, spitting then a glob of some black goop into the fire before finishing "Good."

Tirnel's brow furrowed a little bit. The substance hadn't actually been black, but rather very, very dark red; like coagulated blood.

"What are those big Gnolls who were tailing the Matriarch? Her bodyguards?" Tirnel asked.

Gashkarr's expression grew grim, the pale Gnoll staring into the flames as he replied "They call themselves The Blades of Yenoch and, just like the Matriarch, you should avoid them at all costs. They are the Matriarch's brood, rumored to have been sired by an Avatar of Yenoch she summoned from the bowels of the Abyss itself. Their status and stature make them all the more dangerous, as they think they can get away with whatever the Hells they feel like... So I repeat: avoid them if at all possible."

Tirnel had no reason to doubt the Gnoll meant every last word he said. Something about the Blades had definitely felt just plain... Wrong.

Deep in a forest several days' travel from the Bloodaxe village Dagnyr was crouching in a little bush, a nocked arrow in his shortbow ready to be fired at a grazing deer not thirty feet away from him.

The Gnoll was lining his shot perfectly for a one-shot kill. Whereas Rhaz preferred the sheer power of a thrown spear, Dag favored a well-placed arrow to bring down his prey whilst on a hunt. Speaking of whom, Rhaz was probably not too far from him judging by the quiet rustle he heard from a bush to his left. Dag just hoped that the big lug wouldn't scare away the stag by stomping around so loudly.

A twig snapping caused the deer to lift up it's head and then bolt almost immediately, a sigh forming on the leather-clad Gnoll's lips. His thoughts of chewing Rhaz's ear off over an amateur mistake like this evaporated the second a thuggish man with scraggly beard wearing a studded leather vest charged out of the bush with an iron banded club in hand directly towards Dagnyr.

Dag reacted on instinct and twisted around, letting the arrow loose. Since he'd had no time to aim his shot was a bit off, sinking into the man's arm instead of his throat, but the pain from the arrow made the man falter, giving Dag enough time to pull out his trusty pair of kukris.

The Gnoll could tell the man was an amateur as the thug took just a wild swing at him with his club. Dagnyr blocked the strike easily with one of his blades whilst slashing with the other one across the man's throat.

A battle cry from behind made Dag whip around and bring his blades up just in time to catch a blade swung at his head between crossed kukri blades. The half-orc -similarly in studded leather armor- attacking him snarled and tried to push past Dag's defense with sheer force, but the wily Gnoll stepped to the side and allowed the half-orc to unbalance himself. With his second attacker stumbling forward, Dagnyr spun one of his blades nimbly aroundand stabbed the halfblood through the back of the neck, killing him instantly.

More thugs charged from the bushes around him, easily half a dozen of them, mostly humans with the occasional halfblood in the mix. Majority of them were armed with maces, clubs and other blunt instruments and they all seemed hell-bent on using them on Dagnyr's cranium.

"Where the Hells is Rhaz..?" Dagnyr thought to himself as he ducked away from a club swung at his head, repaying the attacker's effort with a slashed-open belly. Dag was like a specter on the battlefield, ducking, dodging and weaving his way with surprising grace through the ranks of his assailants, the grace of his movement contrasting sharply with the brutal efficiency with which he used his twin blades.

After a short but brutal skirmish four more bodies had joined the others on the forest floor and a fifth one was either going to bleed out slowly or -at the very least- be permanently blinded after a murderous slash across the face from Dagnyr.

However, more and more of the thugs kept coming at him, but this time they were armed with nets. He was able to avoid the first two, but the third and fourth web found their marks. Thus entangled, Dag was beset by four thugs who viciously beat him with their clubs until he was out cold...

Some hour or so later Rhaz arrived to the scene of carnage, a deep frown on his face. The ground was covered with blood and corpses but of Dagnyr there was no sign. The Gnoll Brave knelt down, his frown deepening as he examined the wounds on one of the bodies. There was no mistaking this was all Dagnyr's handiwork, but where was he and who were these attackers?

The Gnoll's face twisted into a visage of anger, one of his paws clenching into a fist with which he punched the ground. If they -whoever they were- had hurt Dagnyr... They would pay!

Rhaz lifted his nose up and started sniffing the air, closing his eyes to better focus on picking out individual scents from the air. It took him a moment, but eventually he found the scent of his beloved friend. It was faint, mixed as it was with the stench of blood, death and unwashed bodies.

Standing up Rhaz opened his eyes, extended his left arm directly to the side as if grabbing something and then focused on thinking about his armor and his axe. Amid a soft glow of light they both materialized out of thin air, the armor on him and the axe in his awaiting paw.

Rhaz examined the greataxe in his paw by turning it slowly about before giving a curt nod of approval. The enchantments -especially this summoning one which according to Gash had something to do with "extradimensional spaces", whatever those were- Gashkarr had managed to craft onto his gear was turning out to be quite handy indeed.

"_I'll have to thank him again once we get back into the village..."_The brute thought to himself as he set off at a brisk sprint, following the trail of scents with an expression on his face that promised nothing but misery to whoever had had the audacity to hurt someone dear to him.

Something wet splashing on his face, accompanied by the worst headache he'd ever had, brought Dagnyr back into consciousness. The first thing his eyes focused on was the smugly smiling face of a rather ugly, scarred person.

The second thing Dag noticed was the fact his legs and arms were bound spread-eagle between two trees in such a manner that he couldn't move them even a little. At least these ruffians knew ropework, even if their combat skills were sorely lacking.

"Well look who's finally awake!" The ugly man exclaimed, eliciting raucous laughter from the dozen-or-so other similar thugs. From the looks of it Dag had been hauled off to some kind of campsite with lean-tos, a campfire and all the other sundry that belonged to such a temporary campsite.

Dagnyr frowned and fixed a murderous glare at the ugly man who, Dagnyr noticed, held a dripping bucket in his hands. "So to what I owe the dubious pleasure of your hospitality?" the Gnoll asked in human tongue.

A ratfaced, skinny young man spoke up, twirling a dagger lazily in his hands "Baron Claude Roissy wanted us to pick you and the rest of your raggedy-arse group for an audience."

The name was distantly familiar to Dagnyr, but with such a ringing headache it was hard for him to remember "You'll... Have to jog my memory on that one. Baron who now?"

The ugly man gave Dagnyr a rather hard backhand across the face, but Dag did his best to deny them the pleasure of seeing him wince. "Baron Roissy of Emeraldmere... You carved out his left eye during your last encounter. The man barely made it out alive which, fortunately for us and unfortunately for you, meant he put a pretty hefty bounty on your little group. Double if brought in alive!"

Finally it all clicked with Dag, the Gnoll giving a defiant little chuckle and a grin "I remember now... He brought it on himself, really, when he went and kidnapped the daughter of a neighboring Baron who, unfortunately for grumpy ol' Claude, happens to have made business with a bunch of capable adventurers such as me and my two companions." Dagnyr's grin broadened a touch and, though he knew there'd be hell to pay, added "Earned us a pretty penny with that dumb trick of his your Baron did. I only regret I let Gash hold me back when I was carving that fat bastard up like the swine--"

Instead of a backhand, Dagnyr's remark was interrupted by a fist crashing to his temple, causing the Gnoll to black out for a few seconds, another punch connecting with the side of his muzzle as soon as he woke up.

The ugly man's smug expression melted into one of annoyance as Dag licked the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and let out a little chuckle, his pupilless eyes fixing on those of the man, an almost insane grin curling onto the Gnoll's face "None of this matters, though, because it's damn hard for corpses to take me anywhere! Your biggest fucking mistake was grabbing me first and not Rhaz..."

"So there's another one of your band in these woods, eh? Makes it that much easier for us, then. Hows about it, then... Why won't you tell where the last one is... Gash, I think he's supposedly called?" The ratfaced man piped in whilst casually bringing his knife up to Dagnyr's throat. "You monsters killed most of my family when you rampaged through the Baron's castle. Good, honest men just tryin' to earn a living as guards."

Against all rationality, Dag decided to just egg them on, leaning a bit on the edge of the knife so that it almost broke his skin "Do it if you dare, pigfucker... See what your pals think when you literally cut their pay in half..."

The ratfaced man scowled and pressed the knife a little harder, but the ugly man grabbed him by the wrist and pushed the knife down and away from Dagnyr "Put the knife away, Avery. The Baron wants them alive so that's how he will get them. You go and do something stupid and so help me heavens above I will cut off your balls and shove them down your throat!"

Ratface, Avery, scowled at the ugly man and then spun around on his heels, storming off whilst muttering curses under his breath.

The ugly man looked over his shoulder and shouted "Randall! Get your arse over here and watch the prisoner." turning back to Dagnyr, a grin on the man's face, he said "If your friend really does show up, Randall here will make sure he won't get any funny ideas, else his crossbow turns you into a unicorn."

A big, broad-shouldered man with a thick mustache approached -a loaded crossbow in hand and his torso protected by a chainmail shirt- nodding to the ugly man "Sure thing, Sturm. I'll make sure spotty here plays reeeal nice-like."

A gust of wind caused Dag's nostrils to flare and his ears to perk just a little, the Gnoll turning his head to look Randall in the eye "I don't envy you, you know..."

Randall rolled his eyes "Quit yammering, beast. Don't make me muzzle you."

"Dead man talking." The bound Gnoll quipped.

Randall opened his mouth to respond, but the words never left the man's lips as -out of nowhere- a javelin pierced his back so hard it came halfway through his entire body, as if his chainmail shirt wasn't even there. Randall's expression was one of utter surprise as he stared at the bloodied metal tip and wooden shaft of the throwing spear sticking out of him, his knees buckling as life left him.

Before Randall's body had hit ground two more javelins flew from the thickets surrounding the campsite, nailing one bounty hunter square through the head and impaling another through the abdomen against a tree.

A cry of alarm rang through the campsite, the manhunters scurrying to their feet and drawing weapons.

From the shady twilight cast by the late afternoon sun shining through thick canopy walked out Rhaz in full battle gear, grasping his greataxe in two paws, his face distorted with anger into a bare-fang snarl. His eyes were crimson-red instead of golden-yellow, making him look all the more fearsome.

Sturm pointed his sword at the Gnoll Barbarian "That's another one of 'em, lads! Get him!" Thus inspired by their leader, the manhunters launched themselves at Rhaz.

Rhaz opened his muzzle and let out a roar of pure, unbridled rage, hefting his axe up and throwing himself into the battle with reckless abandon. The first thug to face him tried to block Rhaz's sideways swipe with his shield, but such was the Gnoll's strength that he clove right through shield, arm and man in one fell blow.

The Gnoll took a step forward and swung his axe into the chest of a second thug, slamming the half-elf to the ground. Nets were thrown at him, but that barely slowed him down, the frothing Berserker tearing through the nets like they were made of string.

He was surrounded, his foes raining blows on him from left and right, causing him to bleed from multiple shallow cuts but Rhaz cared not. He had given himself almost wholly to the Rage burning inside him, allowing him to ignore minor wounds as if they weren't even there all the whilst carving a bloody swathe through the disorganized rabble.

In short order most of the manhunters were reduced to a mere handful of their original numbers, the surviving few breaking away from the rampaging juggernaut. Sturm, who had watched the battle from the sidelines let out a cry of frustration and -getting sudden inspiration- darted over to Dagnyr. The ugly man placed his blade on the Gnoll's throat and then shouted out to Rhaz "Okay, ugly! You had your fun, but it's time to give up nice and quiet-like or I'll carve up your friend like a pig..."

Rhaz stopped for just a second, staring at Sturm with such intense hatred that -for a moment- Sturm felt a primal kind of fear, like a prey animal staring at a ravenous predator. Before he had a chance to react, Sturm saw something spinning through the air towards him at a rapid speed, Rhaz's greataxe slamming into the man with enough force to hurl him several feet back.

The berserk Gnoll roared once again, shattering the confidence of his remaining foes who turned to run, abandoning their weapons and shields as they ran. Alas... The Gnoll was faster, running them down one at a time and tearing them asunder with his bare claws and fangs.

Avery was the last man remaining, the ratfaced man stumbling onto a root and getting a mouthful of dirt as a reward. He tried desperately to crawl away from the beast chasing after him, but his escape was cut short by a heavy footpaw landing on his back, pinning him to the ground. He tried to scream and beg for mercy, but the furious Gnoll paid no heed.

Rhaz grabbed the man by the head with both paws and pulled slowly -almost sadistically so- backwards whilst still holding Avery pinned to the ground with a foot on his back. The weaselly man whimpered in pain and panic, until his misery was cut short with the unpleasant crunching and snapping sound of a neck giving up.

For good measure, and to vent some more frustration, Rhaz slammed his fist into Avery's spine, utterly pulverizing it. His foes dead and his anger spent, Rhaz ran back into the camp as fast as he could.

"Am I ever glad to see you, hothead~" Dagnyr said with a smile as Rhaz hurriedly unbound Dag's hands and feet.

"Are you alright?" Rhaz asked with clear concern in his voice as he embraced his longtime lover.

Dagnyr shrugged and gave the big lug a playful nudge to the ribs "A few bruises and the mother of all headaches from the clubbing they gave me, but I'll live. First time I wish I had a skull as thick as yours or Gashkarr's."

"Ever the jokester..." Rhaz muttered softly before licking tenderly at the bruises on Dagnyr's face.

"Mmmh... Much as I appreciate the attention, I think we should relocate as soon as possible. Knee-deep in corpses isn't exactly the most suitable place for making out, you know." Dag said whilst untangling himself from the bigger Gnoll's embrace.

Rhaz looked around the scene of battle and gave a little chuckle. "It is a bit... Cadaverous around here, I agree."

He always felt a little uncomfortable watching the results of him giving in to his anger and going on a rampage. Truth be told he'd never been so scared in his life; not for his own safety but for that of Dag's.

Rhaz banished the dark thoughts as he retrieved his axe. Dag was safe and that was all that mattered, though as the adrenaline rush subsided he was becoming more and more aware of the punishment his body had taken during the fight.

The big lug turned around to see Dag going through the thugs' stuff, letting out a triumphant laugh as he found his belongings tucked away messily in a burlap sack. Dagnyr and Gash meant everything to him and, quite frankly, he didn't know what he'd do if he lost either one of them. That was why he'd sworn to himself long ago he'd do whatever it took to keep them safe, no matter the cost to himself.

"Hey, Rhaz! Stop ogling at me for a second and get your butt moving. We need to get to our own camp post-haste so I can see to those wounds of yours!" Dag called out with a grin on his face.

Assembling a grin onto his face, Rhaz just waved his hand as a sign of agreement and then jogged after the lither Gnoll, leaving the wrecked campsite behind for carrion eaters and scavengers to pick clean.