The Chieftains of Mossy Valley Add an Extra Chapter for Brother "Little Rag Who Doesn't Eat Fish" 2830

The gnoll clans of the Dark Mountains had always kept to their own territories. They were territorial creatures and only raided other clans when they could no longer survive on their own.

That territorial instinct had shaped gnoll civilization, making true unity difficult and keeping them bound to the clan system. The closest they had ever come to uniting was during the Fourth Black Calamity, more than a century ago.

Legend had it that the Bonechewer King descended like a god from the heavens and united the entire gnoll race in an incredibly short time. Then, taking advantage of the Black Calamity, he led them to victory after victory, forging a basic sense of racial identity that transcended territorial instincts.

For the first time in their civilization's history, they looked beyond the hatred between clans and their disputes over territory. Under the Bonechewer King's command, every chieftain and warlord charged toward the same goal.

The facts had proved that united gnolls were terrifying—especially when a lion led that pack of hungry wolves.

Toppling half the continent hadn't been the limit of what they could do. If the Bonechewer King had been a little more cautious back then, if he hadn't rashly split his forces and allowed an arrogant, brutal warlord to burn the elves' forests, the situation today would have been very different.

But every civilization had only so many chances to rise, and there was no doubt that the gnolls had lost that beautiful, fleeting era.

After the Bonechewer King mysteriously disappeared in the Filthy Swamp, the civilization that had only just learned to unite fractured again in no time.

In the years that followed, several self-proclaimed "heirs to the Bonechewer King" tried their utmost to imitate his methods and reunite the tribes. But none had his iron will