The undead in Smuggler's Wood had become a plague.
This hadn't happened in just the past few days. Ever since Hog had joined forces with the Blight Clan, this special "strategic resource" had been multiplying at a terrifying rate throughout Smuggler's Wood.
With the arrival of the Blight Warlocks and necromancers from Blight Town, the ratio of gnolls to undead in the Bloodclaw Clan's territory had reached an astonishing 40 to 1.
It was a good thing the undead didn't need food or rest. Otherwise, simply handling the logistics for this force would have been enough to break Hog and his clan.
There were enough mouths here to chew through every inch of bark in Smuggler's Wood.
Even so, life hadn't been easy for the Bloodclaw Clan lately. The concentration of deathly energy had skyrocketed with so many undead gathered nearby. This frigid power of the dead was a terrible burden on the living. Intelligent beings could still resist it with courage, but the more perceptive beasts weren't about to tough it out. With the forest's animals fleeing in droves, Hog's hunters were struggling to catch enough meat.
Fortunately, the deal with Scarlet Keep had allowed Hog to stockpile a large amount of food in a secret location. That kept his people from going hungry during this difficult time.
But they couldn't keep this up forever!
The threat of living off their reserves was unacceptable to any ruler with a lick of sense, let alone someone as clever as Hog.
He could see exactly how dangerous it would be to let this go on.
And he wasn't the only one. Pretty much every commander in the Bloodclaw Clan had recognized the problem.
"Chieftain! We've got to kick them out, and soon!"
Nash, Hog's most trusted adjutant, said with a deeply