Chapter 36: Tazok
The first of winter's snow crunches underfoot as I trudge, step by step, towards the gnoll fortress.
It looms, the wretched thing, in the distance. Not like the chieftains of a life I left behind, with their tusks, their eyes nearly as large as the clubs that bludgeoned disobedient den-mothers, children. No, something about this fortress calls to mind...a once-new armoire, with cracks in the wood, splinters in the legs. It was old.
A fitting place, then, for the mutts that called it home. Still I wonder at my Lord Anchev's reasoning for using them so. What did they offer the Iron Throne? What, I wondered as the ogres guarding the bridge let me pass with their heads bowed, could they possibly offer the Sword Coast, the Forgotten Realms?
They were mutts. They barely had a consciousness to think with, let alone any kind of cunning, any skill to train others. They watched me as I went up the manifold steps, barking at my arrival, like the pets one keeps to distract themselves from crushing loneliness.
I hear them, and I think of how easy it would be to rip their larynxes free of their throats, smash their heads into nothing more than stains on the ground. I think of the ecstasy I would feel at such a primal thrashing, such a true expression of my power over them, so complete and total...
I arrive at one of their many pits, a small spiral staircase descending into what I might call a well with no water, a hole in the ground, a prison in name only.
"I must admit, thine hospitality could...use some work."
"Witch-lady stay here! No need for wine and dine, boss-man says!"
"Thy 'boss-man' sounds like he works thee too hard." I hear her smirk in her tone of voice. This would be her then, I suppose. For now, I listen to their conversation, admittedly a bit curious.
"Well, boss-man knows what best. He boss-man!"
She chuckles. "A commendable show of faith and loyalty. Does he give his same respect to thee?"
"I do, for as long as they remain useful." I proclaim, descending the stairs.
The gnoll with her, tall and scarred, the...leader of this rag-tag bunch, backs away with wide eyes. "Boss-man! You here early!"
The contempt swells inside of me, but I bat it back down. "I come when I please, mutt. Be glad you have the witch prepared for my arrival." I turn my attention to her. I see her brow furrow, and her eyes...
There, in her eyes, I see it. The spark, the light of will, of assurance. Not all born into this world have it, and to see it reflecting back at me...oh, to crush that spirit, to snuff out that light...
The gnoll bows down to one knee, prostrating himself before me. "We do good, boss-man! We get reward?" I do not have to look at him to see his grin, all teeth and no mirth. Perhaps he sweats. No, the smell coming from him is the stench of a different feeling...a feeling that I inspire in so many.
"Tell me, mutt. You have lived a life of struggle, have you not? You were one of many pups, I hear." He asks for a reward of me? I will show him the error of his ways.
He blinks with surprise. "Yes, boss-man. Too many pups makes it hard to feed pack. So...brothers, sisters, I...fought. To see who survive."
"And you were the only pup left, is that right?" A delicious irony, that now this survivor kneels before another.
"I do good with life given. I leader. I do right by pack." His voice lowers in deference, but I hear something in his words. Something I had not considered of this mutt before.
"Do you wish for your people to thrive, mutt? Do you wish to do better than your predecessors?"
The witch eyes me with curiosity, suspicion, then turns to the gnoll, awaiting his reply.
"Gnolls will be great. Gnolls will thrive. Must be so. I..." he hesitates for a moment. I turn to look at him for the first time. When he looks at me...his brow creases for just an instant, and then a calm descends over him. "I make it so."
The mutt stands at full height.
"If you truly believe that mutt, then you have two choices." I have his attention. Now, I deliver the challenge. In the tribes, an affront to one's honor, the honor of your fellow ogres was punishable as such. A challenge, a simple contest: defend your honor, or die trying.
"You can kneel before me, showering me with praise for my title...boss-man," I sneer at the word, continuing, "Or you can stand as you are now, you can draw your weapon, you can fight for your people, for your survival. Do you understand, mutt?"
He wields his halberd, grasping it with both paws.
I cannot help but smile. Yes, light that fire inside you, dog. Light it so that it burns across this whole fortress.
"Boss-man..." his hands shake on the heft of his weapon, fur dancing in the chill breeze. "No, you not boss-man! I boss-man now!" He thrusts as the witch gasps.
In one motion, I pull my greataxe from its notch on my back, block the spear-end on its wide head, and pull it away, throwing the mutt aside. He regains his balance quickly, driven now by a rabid, instinctual rage. Adrenaline...it was time now for this pup to remember how he has survived this long. Could he stand before me? Could he take his honor back from his master?
No matter the answer, now I see why I was made these gnolls' ambassador. My Lord Anchev knew how they disgusted me, knew that this day would come, that I needed something like this. A chance to prove myself against worthy foes, to train, not just with him, but against creatures of all sorts. To prepare...for them. Those who would dare usurp him. His ascension.
First it was the elves of Shilmista. Now, the gnolls of this fortress. But we both know where it will end, don't we, my Lord Anchev?
We do not stop...until we end the last of the Bhaalspawn.