Gnoll Nash—no, Gnoll Hogg—didn't take as long to decide as one might have expected.
On one hand, perhaps it was because gnolls, even after gaining intelligence, struggled to think deeply and complexly without a proper education. After all, having talent and knowing how to use it well were two different things.
On the other hand, the gnoll didn't know whether that vampire had cast some kind of "evil spell" on him.
Ever since he'd been locked in the cage, his mind had been unusually active, as if a storm of thoughts had kicked up. It was an awful state where he couldn't even pause his thinking. It felt like something inside him had been "lit."
Murphy's words kept echoing in his mind, like countless invisible hands teasing at the thoughts of this small but cunning gnoll.
He could clearly feel his mind in an extraordinary state of excitement, even beginning to fight against what little reason he had left.
It was as if some voice were shouting at him, making him constantly think about what he would gain if he obeyed, if he accepted that "invitation."
Become civilized?
Become an accepted member of this land?
No!
None of that held much appeal for a gnoll.
Just as a person couldn't imagine a color they'd never seen, a gnoll couldn't imagine a life he'd never lived. But the more tangible things lay right before him, seemingly within reach.
The Smugglers' Forest!
Of course he knew it!
Hogg's former small clan hadn't been far from there. He knew that before the damn human war began, the woods had been bustling, with smugglers transporting goods through them every week.
A larger clan called the "Rendclaws" had occupied the place. Its members didn't even need to go hunting or steal human food. They just