Gnolls were ferocious beasts. The first one we saw had jumped up at us from the bushes. I nearly dropped my wrench and ran. Hendrix had played his song, Nikk and Max sent their pets after it and finished it off before I even got to lift my weapon. It was a good feeling. For the first time since leaving home, the fights didn’t fall entirely on me. Sure, Hendrix’s buffs were useful, and his knowledge of how the world worked was priceless, but finally having some more muscle to help take these baddies down relieved a massive weight from my shoulders.
Even though they were on my side, it was off-putting watching those beasts tear the gnoll to shreds. Their presence kept me silent and careful along the road as if one false move would shift their ripping rage onto me. After spying a few of my suspicious glances aimed at his pet, Max assured me that the bard and I had no reason to worry. I believed him but couldn’t shake the wariness.
Hendrix had spent most of the first few hours with our new companions testing their conversation skills. Max was definitely up to the task. Any bit of small talk the bard threw his way was met with an equally mundane but adequate response. Nikk, on the other hand, would answer with either a nod or a curt grunt. The only time the toadkin seemed anything other than annoyed or impatient was when Hendrix pulled out his lute for a leisurely tune.
All in all, they were a bit strange, but I’m sure Hendrix and I were to them as well. We fought a few more surprise gnolls, and each was dispatched with ease. Nikk and Max had a great handle on their pets, but it wasn’t the only thing dangerous about them. Their battle skills were mesmerizing and made me feel less confident in my own. Where I simply ran up to my enemy and bashed it as hard as I could with my wrench, they turned fighting into a sort of dance.
This was most evident when the raventaur child led us straight to a gnoll camp. He’d wept and told us the area had been a place of worship before Kaloriann had come, one of the few places on the ground where the canopy opened up enough to let in the sun, which the raventaur prayed to. I’d thought the camp of eight gnolls was going to be too much to handle, but Nikk and Max reminded me to have more faith in our group through their actions alone.
Max whistled and sent Buttons off toward his target. Nikk made an odd croaking sound in his throat, and Scallion, the green wolf, took it as an order to attack. Max surveyed the battlefield with a quick eye and raced for a nearby stump of a cut-down tree that stood up to my nose. He hopped onto it with a graceful motion and spun with his bow and arrows ready. The first arrow shot and embedded itself in the throat of the farthest enemy. The gnoll shrieked, wheezed, and collapsed.
Nikk had taken a different approach. He ripped his spear from his back, ran his long tongue over his eyes, and charged into the heart of the camp. The gnolls growled and barked at him as the toadkin asserted himself by the blazing bonfire. Nikk waited in an odd squatting position where one stringy leg extended to the side. One hand pressed on the ground to keep balance, and the other held the spear high. He watched his enemies with moist eyes and a smirk, daring them to attack. They did.
The gnolls charged him. Each of the seven remaining foes had their attention set on the toadkin. Hendrix’s song worked with the sunshine to warm the camp — at least for us— and I ran in. If Nikk was bothered by how outnumbered he was, it didn’t show. He jumped ten feet in the air, flipped a few times, and landed behind the pack of gnolls. They stopped and struggled against their momentum. One of them fell. They turned, barked, frothed, and charged. Nikk was on them just as another of Max’s arrows pierced a furry throat.
Nikk’s spear thrust in and out of the closest enemy at the same rhythm as my battle-time heartbeat. He spun, ducked to avoid a wild swing of a club, and thrust the spear into the gnoll’s spine at the same speed.
We were all the same level, but these two were outclassing me — in the style department at least. Delrik ran off and hid behind a tree. I forced myself to stop admiring their talents and to join in the fighting. That was easier said than done as Max flipped from his stump to another one ten feet away once a gnoll got too close. He shot an arrow into the creature’s open maw, grounding it.
Three gnolls remained. Two were interested in me while the other dealt with Nikk. They both swung at the same time. One went high, and the other went low. I jumped back and barely avoided it. I felt the wind on my face from the attempt. One of them ran off to my surprise, but the other was determined to get me. Its mouth drooled much like Scallion’s, who was currently side by side with Buttons gnawing the arm of a gnoll who threatened Nikk.
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My gnoll swung again. I dodged more effortlessly, but I needed to get in close enough to attempt an attack of my own. It was too risky with that massive club the gnoll swung like it weighed nothing. Hendrix shouted, and his song suddenly filled with mistakes. I glanced just long enough to see that the gnoll who’d left me was now chasing the bard around the camp.
The gnoll barked and swung. The sudden sound froze me for an instant. Almost long enough to get me, but again, I felt the wind as I was just able to move out of range. I ran toward Hendrix and his predicament. He saw me coming and changed directions to led his pursuer my way. I pulled out a handful of beads and scattered them just behind Hendrix’s feet as he passed, then I ran off to the side away from the oncoming gnoll.
I heard the gnoll tumble behind me and saw Max notch and release an arrow from his stump. The motion was swiftly followed by a dog-like squeal from where the gnoll had fallen. I led my gnoll — the only remaining enemy — toward the bonfire. Nikk, Max, and their pets stood still and watched. I was glad they did. Hendrix followed from a safe distance, playing his song.
Once I reached the fire, I turned and bolted a few steps before turning back to find a dumbfounded gnoll. The creature stood beside the bonfire and barked while brandishing its mighty club. A pillar of smoke engulfed him.
To the gnoll’s left was a massive tower of stacked firewood. The whole thing was held together by a thick rope that ran across it. I chucked my wrench at the rope and severed it, which produced a sharp sound like a hiss of a snake and released. Hundreds of pieces of chopped wood poured down like an avalanche and entrapped the clueless gnoll.
Once the last piece of wood rolled into place and stilled, I approached and retrieved my wrench. The gnoll was still alive beneath the pile, but it was immobile. I finished it off with a quick smack in the head.
We celebrated with a quick meal by the bonfire to heal up any bit of damage we’d taken. The raventaur child joined us but did not eat. He spent the entire meal badgering us about getting back on the trail and getting him home. I couldn’t blame him, but his persistence did start to get annoying.
I was surprised that the fight hadn’t been enough to level us up, though Hendrix did mention it would start to take longer the higher we got. “You two sure can fight,” I said after eating the last bite of my dumpling.
Nikk grunted and lobbed a piece of meat over to Scallion, who caught it in the air and scarfed it down. Max fed his tiger more gingerly, and the cat ate with what would have been table manners if such a thing existed among animals.
“You were no slouch, yourself,” Max said. “I was eager to observe which manner you’d choose to dispatch the final foe. I was not disappointed. It is rare to meet a gadgeteer who lives up to his name. Most jump about smashing things with their wrench like brutes, only without the sheer strength that gives brutes their charm. But to bury the gnoll in a pile of lumber…” He laughed and kissed his fingers like the cook used to do in Goldmill.
“Your jumps and flips were unbelievable,” I said. “Both of you. I can’t believe we’re the same level. I’d never be able to do anything like that.”
“I’m toadkin,” Nikk gurgled. “He’s elf. Lunch’s finished. Let’s go.”
“Patience, Nikk,” Max said. “Some of us have yet to finish dining.”
I looked over to Hendrix. He’d already eaten a full wolf flank, and now he started on another.
“That bastard scratched me up pretty good while he was chasing me,” Hendrix said. He looked to Scallion, then to Nikk. “Hey, frog boy. Is that wolf of yours gonna get all angry at me if he finds out what I’m eating?”
“No,” Nikk said. “Just eat quick.”
There was no better time than after a good battle to plant the seed for the inevitable future question. “You two-part of any guild?” I asked.
“Goodness, no.” Max waved a hand as if he couldn’t be bothered with the question.
“Freebooters, then?”
“Technically speaking, yes,” Max said. “But we’ve been side by side since spawn. We haven’t gone more than a few minutes away from each other. I’m not sure how many guildmates could say the same, so who’s to call us freebooters with any true authority.”
“Don’t need piece of paper to say we’re friends,” Nikk snapped. “It’s stupid. Everyone thinks they can only do what someone tells them to. Not me. Not Max. No guild. Not freebooters. Just best friends out to face the world. Best friends on their way home.” He glared at Hendrix and moistened his eyes. “Let’s get going!”
“Please, hurry,” Delrik shouted for the tenth time during our lunch. “I need to get home!”
Hendrix threw the rest of his wolf flank on the ground in frustration. “Fine! Let’s go!” Scallion pranced forward and snatched the piece of cooked meat from the ground and nearly swallowed it whole. The bard watched with wide eyes. “That can’t be healthy.”