Hello again, folks. I hope you liked the first chapter of Wolven, in this chapter, and the coming chapters, I've decided to make the addition of a travel log. This way, everyone will have more of an understanding of what each character has. I'm doing this because soon, it'll get complicated, so if anyone needs to know about any of these guys, you can just check up here, and you'll know all you need to know. If you guys think the travel log is pointless, just go ahead and tell me.

Addition to Primary Disclaimer: I do not own the statement "Never underestimate the power of stupid people working in large groups." It is copyrighted by Despair Inc., professional de-motivators.

These first few entries are for the sake of silliness.

Travel Log

Atrum

Status: Adjusting to the group.

Inventory: Empty

Spells: None identified.

Abilities: Full Moon Metamorphosis.

Torva

Status: Keepin' it coo', mon.

Inventory: Nuttin' theh, mon.

Spells: No comment, mon.

Abilities: Well, I pretty goo' a' cookin'.

Rowan

Status: Waking up.

Inventory: Empty

Spells: Okay, that's just mean.

Abilities: Inventing and tinkering, I'm good with mechanics.

And now, I give you Wolven!

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Atrum was dumbfounded. So many things had happened in such a short period of time that he'd been left with a bunch of odd thoughts and jumbled emotions. As of late, he was going over recent events in his mind, because that was all he could think of. Within the last 24 hours, Atrum L. Everto might have just managed to learn one of the greatest lessons in all of history:

Never underestimate the power of stupid people working in large groups.

Indeed, he thought. After being chased for over 2 hours by a hive—no, an armada of bloodthirsty hornets, and then making a 'smart' decision and jumping into a monster infested lake to avoid the hornets, and instead be eaten alive by a fleet of giant sea turtles, Atrum felt that he'd had enough adventures for one day. Of course, life was never so kind. After the sea turtles came the pack of stampeding Centaur. Then came the giant spiders, followed by the flesh eating maggots. Then, that group of drunken pandarens, and finally, the rabid squirrels.

Atrum shivered. It was frightening just thinking about those creatures! They weren't your average everyday squirrels. Oh no, they traveled in groups...extremely large groups. Hundreds of them had swarmed down from the trees! Torva barely resisted wetting himself, Rowan was not so lucky. Atrum had nearly been carried away by the horde. Their escape had cut it very close when the trio tried to out-maneuver the evil squirrels from hell. Torva had taken the lead, more familiar with the area around them. As they neared the side of a cliff, Torva made a small jump and landed on a smaller slide of land along the cliff walls. Atrum and Rowan followed suit and not a moment later did they witness the end of the evil fuzzies. Hundreds and hundreds of cute and fuzzy squirrels, all meeting their demise at the bottom of the cliff's unforgiving abyss.

Eventually, the group had climbed back up the wall and began to head back in the direction of the gnoll camp after Atrum had made the observation that none of them had any gear on. Torva was also missing his throwing axes and whatever gold he had managed to bring with him before his capture. Rowan… well, he'd stayed quiet about his stuff and said that it was personal. Once again, Torva was in the lead when they were heading back towards the gnoll camp. On the way, Atrum struck up a conversation.

"So, Rowan, what did you do before this, um, incident?"

"Yah, mon. Joo nevah talk 'bout yo sef" Rowan kept his head low and his eyes on his feet as he began to play around with his fingers. Atrum quirked an eyebrow. He was awfully shy and reserved for an elf.

"I…well, uh. I'm… a mix of an inventor, mechanic, and engineer of sorts… I... like to play around with gadgets: take them apart, put them back together… maybe make something new… I like that kind of stuff…"

"Ah, I see." Atrum gave him an odd look "But, isn't that an odd occupation for an elf? What about magic?" Rowan cringed.

"Som'tin wrong, mon?"

"N..No. I'm fine… just a little stressed, I guess... yeah." Atrum frowned. The man would often break off into quiet, incoherent mumbles. In his mind, Atrum knew that this man had issues, and one way or another, he would figure out what they were. It wasn't like he had much better to do. But now wasn't the time, and since Rowan wasn't much of a talker, Atrum turned to Torva.

"What about you?"

"Wha' about meh?"

"You haven't spoken of your past either."

"Wha's theh to say? I was a be'ze'ke, I screw'd up, go' mah as' hande' to meh by da chieftan, den I go' kick'd ou.' Sim'po as dat."

"How'd you screw up?" The troll visibly sighed.

"It…waz hahd, me job. Theh wan'ed meh to raid a hu'mon town. I though', Ey, dis be eezeh shi', I be don by mornin'. Bu' then, I see diz lil gurl en 'er momma, an I tink o me lil sista back home… I jus couldn' do it, mon. So, foh dishon'ohin mah tribe, I be sen'enced to exile." The troll hunched his back to the ground even lower than before. Atrum stared at him in shock. A troll with a heart? Now he'd seen everything!

"Yeah, well… you did the right thing." He grinned as Torva perked his head up.

"So… we coo'?" Atrum shook his head. Rowan looked at the troll with a slight smile.

"Yeah, you aren't that bad. But you still smell like dog shit…"

"Tanks, mon… I tink"

After that, none of them spoke a word for some time. Atrum looked around at the lush green forests. He wasn't very familiar with this area, probably because he was lost. The grass was lush and green, the trees were large and full of life, birds were in the air and squirrels—Atrum shivered—were hopping from tree to tree. The forest seemed to have avoided the Scourge's presence altogether. As Atrum passed under the shadow of a large oak, his augmented sense of smell picked up the odor of a dog, or more specifically, a gnoll. That was good news; he missed the comfortable grip of his Warblade and the nice ring of his bag of gold.

"I think we're almost there." Torva turned his head back and gave him an odd look.

"Wha' makes joo say da—oh, wait, nevermind…" he grumbled "Yah, so... heeyah we ah, folks." He stopped at the edge of a clearing as the fertile trees and bushes emptied into the gnoll camp. Atrum was the first to enter with Torva and Rowan following suit. The camp looked rather dreary and torn up, the damage done from the previous night still clearly visible. No gnolls were outside manning their posts. Atrum remembered only seeing two gnolls conscious before he had left the camp. Was that really all that was left? In a way, he felt bad. Was this what the bloody thirsty wolf that killed his parents was capable of? The creature that lived in him, it knew no mercy. He shook off the nauseous feeling, finding it difficult to keep his composure. No, it wasn't worth thinking about; he had to keep his mind on task if he were to do this. Torva noticed his sudden discomfort.

"Joo okay, mon? Joo look a lil' pale."

"I'm fine, just… I'm just thinking too much, that's all."

"Whatevah joo say, mon…"

Rowan remained silent while the other three looked around camp. Curious, he looked about the camp. There were 3 huts, two of which were in ruin. The last hut was larger and crafted with more care than the others. If there were any survivors left, they'd probably be in there. Looking around again, he also noticed an apparent lack of supplies. They probably stored those in the hut, along with the group's forgotten items.

"Hey…" he said quietly. The shy elf gestured the others to come towards him.

"What is it, Rowan?" The elf pointed towards the hut ands poke in a hushed whisper "Shh! None of their supplies are lying around. My guess is they're all in their, with whatever was left of the gnoll tribe." Torva made a face.

"So… Atroom be takin' dis?" The demon hunter frowned. Why did he have to do all of the work!

"Feh. Alright, whatever… just... wait here! I don't want any distractions." He began to creep over to the hut after the other two nodded in acknowledgement. Slowly and silently, he pulled away a flap as his eyes adjusted to the lack of light. The remaining gnolls plus one were tending to some of their wounded. Atrum couldn't remember how many trolls he had put out of commission, but he was pretty sure a few bodies were missing. Two females and one large male gnoll were nursing the wounded. The largest gnoll, and apparently the chieftain, was sitting on top a stool, brooding in the corner. His dog-like body was covered in all sorts of scars and tattoos. A headband rested on the creatures head, and a huge war hammer lay next to him. Further to the creature's right, and Atrum's left, were all that was left of the tribe's supplies, and as Rowan had predicted, the items they had looted off the group.

Going over the outcome of a battle with these creatures, Atrum realized that he had managed to cripple their forces in such a way that if they decided to attack him right now, he could easily cut through them without the need of a full moon or the use of any of his spells. After another moment of thought, Atrum decided on a diplomatic solution. Why waste blood when words could take its place? Slowly but surely, the hunter stalked over to the brooding chieftain, whom seemed to be too lost in his own thoughts to notice Atrum's presence. Even if he weren't brooding, the gnoll wasn't likely to notice Atrum in the poorly lit hut. A single, weak fire provided the only light in the room, and Atrum used it fully towards his advantage. Silently moving even closer to the large gnoll, Atrum stepped into the light, only to be met with—

"Gah! Demon!" the gasps and cries of the gnolls snapped the chieftain out of his brooding. He gasped, noticing how close Atrum was. The creature reached for its weapon, but Atrum kicked it away—with some difficulty—before the gnoll could reach it.

Atrum let out an exasperated sigh Well, that could have gone better… Looking the chieftain square in the eye, he could tell even this behemoth was frozen in fear at the sight of him. Oh good, He thought Now everyone is afraid of me, even the creeps. At this rate, I'll never get a girlfriend… Hah! Slowly, Atrum took a step back into the shadows, his figure now half covered by them. He put his hands up and faced his palms towards them as a sign of peace, turning around to let the other gnolls see. "Now now, let's not….do anything drastic here, folks. I just came to… negotiate."

The gnolls growled. The deep, rough voice of the chieftain caught Atrum's attention. "You…Demon…After what you did to us…You dare to shame us with your presence after what you did?" Atrum narrowed his gaze onto the gnoll.

"I could do it all over again, if you want me to."

The creature growled in fury again. "You disgust me, Demon…" the name had malice dripping all over it. After another pause, it spoke again. "…What do you want from us?" Atrum smirked. Now we're getting somewhere…

"Well, first… I want to apologize." And then came the stares. Yup, wide-eyed looks from the gnolls that wanted to say 'What the hell," but were too busy wetting themselves to manage any sort of action successfully. "Yeah, you heard me right. My original intention was just to escape, but at the time, I had no control over myself. You see, I'm a…"

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"What do you think he's doing in there?"

"Beats meh, mon."

"But… he's taking so long. Do you think they caught him?"

"Probableh not, mon. Dat guy… he know how ta take care o' himself. Guess joo could say he like a lone wolf."

"Then what could he be doing?" Torva allowed himself a sinister grin.

"Mebbe he havin' hot steameh sex wit' sum hot gnoll chick." Rowan frowned.

"You're a charming troll, aren't you?"

"I love joo too, mon."

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"…So, that's basically what happened. I can't remember exactly what it went… my memory is always really fuzzy when it comes to full moons. I regret hurting you in such a way, and I offer you my deepest apologies." The chieftain sighed, and bowed his head.

"I understand, young one. You have the Howler's curse." Atrum scrunched up his face, confused.

"I've got a what now?"

"The Howler's curse, Demon. Some time ago, our tribe was harassed by a werewolf similar to the one you spoke of. A few of our people had been attacked, and thus gained the werewolf's curse. However, our dog-like attributes did not change much, so we could never tell. The only difference we noticed was that at night, our tribesmen would make bone chilling howls at the moon, and afterwards, they would frenzy in chaotic bloodlust. This earned a bad name for us gnolls… and now you know why we are hunted and hated." Atrum's eyes widened.

"Y-you're kidding me!"

"No, young one. That is the truth…" the large gnoll sighed sadly. "A curse put upon us by the legion's corruptions, and the wrong-doings of the cursed ones have put my people and I in this struggle for survival. Our race is one of sorrows."

Wow…I never thought… Atrum wanted to throw. He'd killed these creatures often in the past without a second thought, but this… this was different. The gnolls weren't a race of cold hearted killers; they were a people struggling to survive! Yes… it all made sense now. Not often did they kill, most gnoll tribes only resorted to kidnapping. This isn't right… I should repay them somehow for what I've done… "Old one… what is your name?"

The old gnoll looked up at Atrum, its weary eyes struggling to focus. "I am Gahren Silvertooth, last of the Silvertooth dynasty... though it was never much of one."

"Gahren…my name's Atrum. I have an offer for you. Your camp is in ruin, and if you were to be attacked now, the chance of your people surviving after the fight, much less through it, would be slim to none. If you will follow under my rule… I promise to offer you both my protection, and to swear an oath to clear your people's name."

The gnoll stared up at the hunter as if he'd grown a second head. "You can't be serious, young one! How in the world are you going to manage to do that?" Atrum smiled back at him.

"There is nothing left for me here, Gahren. I want to give my life meaning. Besides," he grinned "You really shouldn't be asking me that question after what we just went through last night, ya know." There was a pause, followed by some quiet chuckling, and then came the hearty laughter as Gahren and Atrum relaxed themselves, finally comfortable and in good humor.

"But… young one… How can my people trust you? How can we lay the survival of our entire tribe in the hands of a Howler?" Gahren looked from Atrum to the wounded and pointed in their direction "How can we trust you, a Howler, who's capable… of this?" Atrum felt the unnerving silence go by as he thought. How could they trust him? No one could trust Atrum… no one. Not even himself. A while longer past before he answer.

"I don't know, Gahren. I.. I really don't know." Gahren looked at him for a moment. Atrum kept his eyes on the floor, but he knew the old one was watching him.

"Ah, very well then…" Gahren pushed himself off the stool and stood up. He leaned back down, grabbed his war hammer and used it to stand. Tapping the ground twice with it, he caught hold of the attention of all the gnolls in the hut, plus Atrum. "From this moment on, the Silvertooth tribe swears their allegiance to Master Atrum, and to follow his lordship wherever he may go, under the conditions that he gives us his protection, and swears to free our people from the prejudices of this world! Do you agree to the conditions, Master Atrum?" Atrum looked up in surprise, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Damn right I do!" Gahren smiled in return.

"Very good, very good…. From now on, the Silvertooth clan follows Lord Atrum's words above all else!" And the merry cheers of the gnoll tribe filled the hut from then on. Gahren turned back towards his new master. "I have given you a chance, Lord Atrum. Please... do not waste it."

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"Wha' da hell?" Torva and Rowan were pretty damn confused. Cheers were coming from the little hut. Had the gnolls captured Atrum? "Stay heeyah Rohwan, I'm a go see wha' happen…"

"No need, Torva…" Atrum stepped out of the hut, not letting go of the flap behind him.

"Atroom! Wha' be happenin' to ya, mon?" Torva rushed over to him, but stopped as soon as a large form stepped out of the hut "Shi'! Da dog-mon's gonna keel us! Run awa—"

"Relax, Torva" Atrum cut him off. "He's with us now. More specifically, me."

"I am Chief Gahren. My tribe and I have sworn to follow Master Atrum without question, wherever he may go! His allies are our allies." Rowan peeked his head from behind the rock he was hiding.

"So…you're not going to kill us?" Torva snickered when he heard him whimpering slightly.

"Nah, they're pretty nice guys once you get to know em." Atrum looked around. The camp was still a mess, meaning they had lots of work to do if they were to get this done before nightfall. "Alright, here's the deal!" He shouted so that both the gnolls inside and outside could hear him. "Anyone that doesn't have to tend to the wounded is going to help move all this stuff around! Salvage any materials that you can, and help prepare a caravan for the group! We're getting out of here and heading for the nearest town! That is all. Don't slack off or else you won't be getting any dinner tonight! Any questions?... Good! Now get to work, I want this done before nightfall!"

As he ended his speech, he turned back to stare at the sky for a moment, and smiled. Maybe, just maybe, he could create something this time, rather than destroy… Atrum looked back at the camp and went on with assisting with the work around camp. He had work to do and a promise to uphold. People were counting on him to keep them safe, they were giving him their trust. Atrum was grateful to have it.

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Ah…the end of another chapter. I hope you guys like what's going on. Also, I must stress the fact that having people read my story but leave no review is an annoyance beyond any of hell's creations. I'm doing this cause I like it, but there are so many friggin stories on that I see no point in writing if no one is going to bother reading my work and tell me how I'm doing. So, please, just leave a review when you're done reading. Honestly, 5 minutes of your time isn't that much to ask for.