Empirical Gnollage: Installment 98 [https://squirrel.dogphilosophy.net/Installment098.png]

"Collected?" Al exclaimed.

One shocking moment later, Al was looking at the startled and perhaps a little frightened face of Cyrus Borge. Wikwocket was grasping the hilt of BiteySue, looking at Al with an also-startled but slowly-growing lopsided grin. Even Bote was wide-eyed with one eyebrow raised questioningly. Gruntle was doubling over with a yelp. Al found himself on his feet, his face still in the process of going from intense defiance to confusion. Al's right hand grasped the shaft of his mace-wand, having unhooked it from its carrier. Al froze and quickly re-examined his memory of what had just happened.

There had been a thought that Cyrus and his associates intended to take Gruntle away and put him in a cage somewhere. Al wasn't sure what he'd said - something like you can't have him! or we're not giving him to anyone - and he'd stood up, reaching for his mace with the thought that he might need to resort to magic or violence to prevent Gruntle's abduction. Gruntle had leapt into motion immediately as Al did. The gnoll's eyes had gone black and the muscles around his jaw had bulged. Al was sure this time that he'd seen Gruntle's teeth get bigger, for just a moment.

"Please...there's no need for that," Cyrus said, slowly raising his hands and speaking in the sort of forced calm that a hostage negotiator might use to say there's no need to stab that baby, we can work this out.... "I think you may have misunderstood my intentions."

Al felt a blush of embarrassment spreading across his face. "Sorry, sorry, I don't know what came over me there." He put the mace back and forced himself to let go of it.

Cyrus let out a slow breath and relaxed.

"No, don't apologize... on second thought, go ahead and apologize, but don't feel bad about it. In some ways, that's the kind of response I would want to see, just maybe not quite so threatening. I want to assure you right now that we do not intend to separate your gnoll from you," Cyrus promised, then hastened to add, "nor do we intend to imprison you all somewhere together, either."

Gruntle made a distressed retching sound as his punishment for intending to violate his oath continued. Al gently put his hand on the suffering gnoll's back.

"It's all right now, I didn't mean it," he said. The immediacy of Gruntle's small groan of mixed relief and complaint as the gnoll relaxed surprised Al. He looked to Bote for advice. "Is there... something wrong with me?"

"Not at all!" Wikwocket interjected as she sat back down. "A magical sword hero should leap to defend his precious party from threats!"

"I'm serious about this, Wikwocket," Al said.

"So am I! You might think it was too dramatic, but I thought it was great!"

"You would," Al sighed, "but..."

Bote nodded. "I understand. Please relax and look into my eyes."

Cyrus watched, fascinated, as Bote quietly recited a short prayer asking for divine insight, peering intently into Al's eyes. Al grew nervous as Bote stared for longer than expected. Finally, the dwarf shook their head.

"You still are not under the control of a demon, or other external entity. I am not able to say with certainty if you might be under the influence of some sort of mortal spell, but it is my opinion that this is probably also not the case, and your thoughts and actions are still your own."

"I don't know if that's reassuring or not," said Al.

"What is it that you felt, in that moment that worries you?"

Al gave this some deeper thought, as much as he could in his self-conscious state, He was realizing that everyone was watching him except for Gruntle, who had gone back to eating as if nothing had happened.

This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

"Well... ," Al considered aloud, "I thought maybe we were about to get another squad from this mysterious cause popping out from somewhere to capture Gruntle, and maybe assault the rest of us when we tried to stop them," he said, feeling foolish now.

"Good, but I did not ask what you were thinking. What did you feel?"

Al stumbled verbally as he tried to describe what he remembered of his emotional state.

"It's... uh... It was... I don't know, protective maybe? It was a feeling like someone was about to break or steal something that was important to me... do we really need to talk about this right now?" Al tried, beginning to feel uncomfortable at the scrutiny.

"Awww, that's sweet, you do care about us!" Wikwocket said. Al wasn't sure if she was teasing him or not.

"Did you hear any voice, even your own, telling you to take a specific action at that time?" Bote pressed.

"No, it was almost like a reflex. It wasn't like it didn't feel like I was the one reacting, either, I just didn't even have time to think about it as it was happening."

"What was your intent in that moment, if you had not stopped yourself? You did not intend any specific harm to Cyrus, correct?"

"N... no. No, not unless he or someone else actually did something threatening."

Cyrus raised an eyebrow at Al's hesitation, but risked a small smile. "You hesitated there. I promise, I have no intention of being a threat to anything but our dinner."

"Look, it's not like it was just me, Gruntle thought you were coming after him too!"

"Nah," Gruntle replied, picking up his mug of wine.

"You didn't think they were after you?"

"Nah."

Gruntle lapped at the wine in the mug with no apparent sign of concern.

"If you didn't think they were after you," Al interrogated, "why were you trying to attack Cyrus?"

Gruntle licked his muzzle before answering.

"Shaman wanted Cyrus to go away. Not right to fight alone."

"There!" Cyrus exclaimed, pointing to Gruntle. "This is the sort of information that I think will benefit us all! The gnolls aren't the most exotic threat to the world nor the biggest, but they are a dangerous manifestation of demonic threat, and one that we don't fully understand yet. Having one willingly under the care of the cause may help us find a way to avert the rampaging of the others, or at least learn where they're coming from. Where did you come from, Gruntle?"

Gruntle paused as he was about to gnaw at the bone from a leg of mutton.

"Not-a-mi-mic-ma-nor," he slowly pronounced, then put the bone between his teeth and clamped down. The bone gave way with a loud crack, and Gruntle began scraping the marrow out of the broken bone with his teeth.

"I think he means your first clan," Al said, warily as he still wasn't sure what information to trust Cyrus with. Gruntle's gnawing stopped. His eyes unfocused as he spoke a complex series of bestial noises of the gnollish language, describing his memories of a violent place. Then, he tried again in the common language.

"Always fighting. Other clans. Dangerous things with teeth and claws. Meat hunting meat, clan always hunts together to live. Clan followed the call to easier hunting. Green, bright. Softer, better meat, weaker meat, could even hunt alone."

Cyrus listened raptly to the disjointed description. Al's curiosity compelled him to inquire further.

"Something called you? Is that how you got to the village that Melissa told us about?"

Gruntle grunted, but didn't elaborate.

"Don't you remember anything more about your first clan?" Al probed.

Gruntle huffed dismissively.

"Weak. New clan killed them, didn't even eat them. This clan is better."

"I regret not bringing writing materials," Cyrus said, bringing Al back to the present matter.

"All right, about that, if you don't intend to take Gruntle or us away, how exactly do you intend to collect him?"

"I intend no such thing, You've done it for us!" Cyrus answered, "You are the cause's gnoll project! I admit that there are a few that I've spoken with who would rather he was confined to a more controlled environment for study. Since you seem to have already formed into a cohesive party somehow, though, even they agree the results will be better if we leave your group intact and leave it up to you to keep him from situations that might be harmful to the rest of us. Some concern was expressed about potential social disruption, we expect you'll do your best to avoid that. Now that I've hopefully explained the situation better, how do you feel about it?"

"Since I have seniority in this," Wikwocket said, striking a dramatic pose, "I hereby declare the Gnoll Party's agreement!"

Al groaned.

"Do you have to call us that?" Al complained.

"We're gnolls, aren't we?" Wikwocket answered.

"Really wishing I'd brought writing supplies," Cyrus muttered. He looked to Al and waited for Al's reluctant nod before continuing.

"Good, that brings us to the other two matters I had to discuss, then. First, as we agreed, I've arranged access to the former library for you. Here is the information you need to find it and get in," Cyrus said, handing over a folded piece of paper to Al. "Secondly and more importantly, what do you plan to do with your gnoll when you reach Southwall? If you weren't aware, unauthorized use of shapechanging magic is illegal there. If you attempt to bring him in under the same ruse that you are taking advantage of here, it's just going to draw more attention to you and get you in more trouble with the city watch."

"I confess I haven't come up with anything yet, we've been kind of busy. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Yes. Payment or service?" Cyrus answered with a grin.

"That seems awfully mercenary," Al griped.

"It's actually a safety mechanism, it's good practice to always walk away at the end of the meeting with none of us still owing a debt to any of the others. It's very important. This time I have a proposal that should take care of that neatly. I'm in touch with one of my professional contacts about an arrangement that might be of interest to you. I propose that if I can arrange this, your service to me in exchange will simply be to agree to it."

"That depends on what it is."

"Fair enough. Tell me, does Gruntle like violence?"