I grimaced in pain as steel met wood. The gnoll, barely able to register anything due to his bloodlust, grinned as his sword met my shield. A small, urgent voice inside me warned that neither my shield nor my arm could withstand another blow. With one quick swing of my mace, and a loud, sickening crack, he was down, his kneecap shattered. I ran on, undaunted but in searing pain. Although my shield managed to stop the blow, the impact sent waves of torment through my arm. I pushed aside the pain as best I could, for I had something greater to think about. I glanced down at my shield. It was barely a few sinews of wood now, but I wasn't willing to discard it. Hopefully, once this mess was over, I could get it repaired.

I only ran a short while before I came upon the fortress known as Splitpaw, the stronghold of a warring gnoll clan. The dogmen who now inhabited the dungeon slaughtered the previous residents, which did not bode well for anyone. Somehow this clan of gnolls had learned some of the necromantic arts, and even had mages in their number. I needed to find the group if I was to survive.

I finally found the tunnel leading down into the citadel, being naturally hidden by mounds of earth as it was. I slowed my pace and descended.

Almost as soon as I entered the first small chamber of the tunnel complex I ran into a gnoll witchdoctor. It grinned, its wolflike maw glistening in the torchlight. Immediately it began to chant and to dance, indicating the casting of some spell. Before I could return the favour, I was on my knees, vomiting profusely. The scourge cantrip dissipated just as the gnoll shaman bore down on me, a rusted and spiked club in hand. I easily dodged his advance and barked the words that would root the gnoll in place. Thankfully, the spell stuck, and the gnoll clawed at his legs, scowling with a simple, brutal hate.

I calmed my mind and took the amulet around my neck into my hands. At will, the fury of the Underking, Brell Serilis, filled me, granting me the power to stare down the gnoll with a killing prayer. I saw briefly how the gnoll's eyes widened in understanding, frantically praying to the same god I was.

My prayer seemed to reach Brell's ears first.

The gnoll's words became garbled and shrieking as he shook violently. His limbs twisted into unnatural angles until finally he fell to the floor with a loud thud.

I stared at the gnoll perhaps longer than I should have, vomit still dripping down my chin. I did not truly know how The King of the Underground destroyed his enemies, and as I stood under the flickering torchlight, I wondered why my prayers were so fervently answered, when this being, himself a priest of Brell, was left for dead. I had to wonder if Brell would ever favor my enemy and I would be the one who's prayers went unanswered.