"I gave you five hundred men, Corlando! I hope you won't let my warriors' blood go to waste!"
Three nights later, at the gnoll camp, the warlord Kenport sat astride his burly, armored dire hyena. With an air of arrogance, he addressed the leader of the Wolfbane clan faction, who was preparing to set off on a long-range raid against Scarlet Castle:
"Though it's time for us to part ways, I must say, working with you has been a pleasure."
"Drop the act!"
Corlando, clad in black armor, couldn't even be bothered to pretend anymore. He spoke to the gnoll warlord before him with open scorn:
"You can't hide that look on your face like you're seeing off a plague. There's been no pleasure in our cooperation. We can barely stand the sight of each other. Honestly, this is a relief for me, too. After this, we have nothing more to do with each other, Kenport.
"I just want to reiterate: if we take Scarlet Castle—"
"Ah, I'll immediately turn my army around and head for the Cato region."
Kenport let out the gnolls' strange, wicked laugh from atop his dire hyena and said:
"I won't keep attacking a city that belongs to you. That's our 'agreement,' cackle, cackle. But the other warlords of the Bonechewer clan might not be as reasonable as I am, so here's my final piece of advice: use this time to think about how you can bring your clan closer to mine, my 'friend.'
"Soon enough, you'll find out who can save you from the Black Calamity!
"Ha! Enough talk. Night's fallen. You should be on your way. By gnoll tradition, we'd offer you a parting drink, but I doubt you'd care for our liquor. So, safe travels, my 'friend' beneath the midnight sky."
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