Interlude Satar (Revised)

Interlude Satar (Revised)

When she was unhappy or upset, the young woman could always count on a ball of fur to slowly somersault into the room. Light brown fur, like fresh spring bark, two ears, which perked up, and a little black nose that still seemed too large for his face. Curious brown eyesand that high-pitched voice which had yet to deepen.

Satar. Im bored.

He never came when she was in a good mood. Somehow, her little brother always knew when the least convenient time was.

She wished she had a cat instead. Or a dog. Little brothers were far less adorable, although other people doted on him.

Go away, Cers.

The Gnoll boy did another somersault forwards.

But Im bored.

Im busy.

She snapped back. The young [Shaman] of the Silverfang tribe put in her earringssilver, of course, but with a bit of orange jade hung in one, and a tiny sigil of Silverfangs cresta silver fangin the other.

Normally she wore other jewelry, because the traditional earrings were a bitembarrassing. Big dangling earrings that marked her as a [Shaman]. She felt they were too old for her. Something shed be happier wearing intwenty years. Thirty. But they did make her look the part.

The occasion meant that Satar had gotten out her best [Shaman] attire, and she had even cleaned specks of wood off the largely ornamental staff. Cers poked a paw into her folded clothes, and she snapped.

Cers. Ill tell Cetrule!

His ears flattened. Cetrule was his father. Also, the [Chief Shaman] of the Silverfangs, although Satar happened to know his real class was [Shaman of Purity]. He was Satars step-father, and Satars mother was Akrisa Silverfang, so she was privy to information like that.

You wont. Mother said [Shamans] are supposed to be responsible and deal with matters themselves.

The Gnoll cub peered up suspiciously at Satar. She ground her teeth together as she snatched the top of her outfit up.

No robes for her like a [Mage]. That was fine; they looked hot with fur. Satar got a Corusdeer hide topagain, decorated with Silverfang motifs and lined with silvery furand leggings.

Not full-body cloth. On a Human or Drake it might have been considered scandalous, but Cers was still allowed to run around without any clothes on. Gnolls had a natural set of clothes. It was called fur, and some Gnolls walked around with only a loincloth. Some Gnolls didnt walk around with any clothing.

Satar had seen them in the Meeting of Tribes, and they were fully-grown adults. Weird. For her, the old [Shaman]s apparel was a bit too loose. She didnt use it often. She preferred casual clothes, something like she saw Humans and Drakes in cities wearing.

There was a difference between species. Differences and similarities, but one was that Satar didnt think of Cetrule strictly as a step-father or even a parent. She sometimes did, but that was because she was aware that was how Drakes would look at it.

He was just Cetrule. Satar had never known her father, but she did know his tribe.

Ekhtouch. The famously talented Gnoll tribe of mere hundreds who sometimes intermarried or had children with other Gnolls. Her mother had met an Ekhtouch Gnoll and had her.

Because of that, Satar was gifted. It wasnt just that Ekhtouch Gnolls were taller from exercise, diet, and obsessive pair-matching through countless generations alone. They had Skills and passed down the best of their traits to their children.

That didnt mean Satar was as tall as some of Ekhtouch, who were giants to rival Minotaurs, Centaurs, or even people with faint Giant blood. She was only six feet and two inches, which was average for Gnolls. Some of Ekhtouch were up to eight feet tall, and there was one of themtheir [Paragon]who was over nine feet tall!

Thinking of them, Satar had an idea. The older sister turned to her brother with that too-casual air. She was nineteen; he was nine.

Cers, why dont you find the other kids if youre bored?

I dont want to play. Theyre all with the Ekhtouch kids, and they cheat. They just want to play Triumphs.

That was that game where you did complex things to prove your superior coordination.

Theyre just more coordinated than you, Cers. Theyre Ekhtouch; it was how they were born.

Thats cheating.

Satar sighed. But she had to admitthe other tribe she had come from was snobbish. Shed half-hoped they might like herbut the first night their tribes had met, one of the Ekhtouch Gnolls had come up to her and said she had done alright for herself, despite her mothers line.

That happened to be Akrisa Silverfang, Chieftain of the Silverfangs, the mining-merchant tribe. But that was how they saw it, and Cetrule, her mentor and [Chief Shaman], had told her not to make an issue of it.

Satar had wanted to, but Cetrule was probably right. She wished he werent her mentor, though.

He was Silverfangs best [Shaman] bar none, but he was also her mothers partner, and it wasnot unpleasant, but awkward. Sometimes she heard him dressing down another [Shaman], but he was always suggesting and offering opinions rather than telling her she was out of line.

Gnolls were not shy about that, usually. You earned your place in a tribe, if you were Honoredand Cetrule as [Chief Shaman] was certainly Honored Cetruleyou could tell another Gnoll when they were making a mistake. But Satar was Akrisas daughter

She didnt want to let him down. But Cers was poking his head into Satars spell-pouch, and she raised a fist.

CersIll hit you! I have to take part in the Retellings. Wait for me, or go play!

I dont want to.

Go findyes, go find the new girl! Krshias ward! Mri! Shes with Gireulashiathe [Paragon]. Dont you want to see what shes up to?

Satar wheedled. She felt like that wasnt Mris name, but the little brown Gnoll with the gold ears was a mystery to Satar. Not only had she befriended Gireulashia, the [Paragon] of Ekhtouch herself, she seemedimportant for reasons no one would explain.

Akrisa had stopped meeting other Chieftains just to welcome Mri personally and speak to her in her tent. Alone.

Well, with Krshia, her sister, Satars aunt, who fascinated the young [Shaman] so much, and Cetrule. But not with Satar or Cersthat meant it was important. Also, no less than Torishi Weatherfur and Feshi Weatherfur, both famous Gnolls from a famous tribe, also visited Mri. Oh! And the Golden Gnoll, Qwera, and her two friends. And Rose and Inkar seemed to know who Mri was, and all the other Silverfangs from Liscor!

She was important, and Satar ground her teeth, resenting not being trusted with the secret. Akrisa told her she was a full [Shaman] of the tribe despite her age because of her statusyet she didnt tell her important information. She was lumped in the same category as Cers.

Cers smelled his own poo when he was done.

However, it seemed Cers was on the same page as his sister, for once. He glared and flopped onto his side.

I dont like her.

Why?

She doesnt talk to me. And everyone says nice things to her. And Mother says I cant bother her. And she gets to eat lobster whenever she wants. And shes got a magic wand and I dont.

Woe is you. Cers, get away from my spell-pouch.

He was sniffing at it. Satar snatched it up and made sure she had all the compartments in order. She was almost readyshe took a few deep breaths.

Im ready. I can do this.

Why are you nervous? Its boring. Anyone could do it, even you. Only baby cubs like Retellings.

So said the nine-year-old. Satar glared at him.

So dont follow me.

Of course, he did. Maybe it was some twisted form of support. As Satar hurried out of the Silverfang camp and towards the platform just outside the private area, she saw a crowd had gathered.

True to Cers words, they were all very young Gnolls, some with parents or older siblings or guardians in attendance. It did nothing to stop the man-eating butterflies in Satars stomach. She saw them turn to her and put on her best smile.

Her head rose, and she gazed out over the heads of little Gnolls who ran about on all fours. Brown fur, jet-black, even reds or blondes, though those were far less common. She had even seen Gnolls with faint purple to their fur, although it might have been dye.

The older Gnolls turned to grey, but kept most of their original color. Not that they were just fur; they wore colorful clothing mixed with dyes from across Izril and the world. Some had jewelry like her; others had dyed parts of their fur. Weatherfurs Gnolls were practically pieces of art in and of themselves, having bright splashes of color on their fur.

Some Gnolls even dyed themselves in more dramatic ways. Fur, like clothing, was an expression, and every Plains Gnoll tribe of note was here, so they were incredibly varied. Any color of fur, brown eyes for the most part

But no white fur. Never pure white fur, even as an aesthetic. Satar approached them at a trot, then realized she needed to slow down.

Slow. Walk! [Shamans] do not run! Unless theres a fire or monster attack. Cetrules words came to her, and she tried to turn her stride into a confident stroll.

Cers slammed into the back of her legs and she nearly went over. The boy backed up, and Satar heard a titter from her audience.

Wonderful. She was sweating already, and not from her costume. She wished another older [Shaman] like Volah was here. But she was experienced enough to do this on her own.

Satar strode up onto the platform for her audience of maybeat least a hundredand her mind went blank. She hadnt done this before so many. Hundred? There might be three hundred here!

Silverfang was a big tribe, but these were guests and this was the Meeting of Tribesthis was a free event anyone could attend. The Gnoll children were chewing on food from the free stalls, and Satar saw Cers plop down in the grass. She tried to speak, and her memorized lines she hadnt bothered to refresh slipped away from her and tripped out of her tongue.

Good morning. Umgreetings, Gnolls of the Meetings of Tribes! I am Satar. Shaman Satar of the Silverfangs. The Silverfang Tribe, that is! On behalf of the Meeting of Tribes, it is my honor to offer a small Retelling to you all now.

Oh no. She saw some of the older Gnolls look resigned, just like her heart sank when she had to go to a Retelling and a bad speaker was doing it. Satar tried to rally.

She looked at Cers, cursing him for all of it, and saw the little Gnoll boy staring up at her. He hadnt run off, and strangelyhe was sitting there, not fidgeting at all. His head propped on his paws, and he stared up at her. Because she was doing a Retelling.

Like he always did, her little brother stared up at Satar when he was bored. He would seek out the [Shaman], or even when she was younger, as an [Apprentice]and he would always say

Tell me a story?

The young Gnoll woman stopped panicking. Satar saw her people look at her, even a few non-Gnolls passing by pausing to listen. She began as if she were talking to Cers.

Tell me a story, Satar?

Oh, alright

This was how she told it to Cers each time, since hed beg her to tell it to him again and again.

Once, long ago, so long that every book ever written about it has crumbled to dust, so long that stone almost forgot and the world looked very different, Dragons flew the skies of the world in great numbers. Hundreds.

Hundreds?

Thousands. Tens of thousands, maybe.

Is that a lot?

Thatsyes. Dragons of every color and scale. Good ones, bad onesDragons. They lived on Izril, you know. Before the High Passes ever existed, Dragons were a species you could find everywhere. So were Giants.

Ive seen Giants.

Not half-Giants, Cers. Real Giants. So tall they would get tired of walking through clouds and sit. Back then, you know, there were other species too. Djinniyou know them?

Bottle people?

Yesand Jinn. Their half-mortal descendants. There were also, ohHarpies? Lots of species. I dont know them all, but there were Harpies who flew like Garuda, only they had no hands; they were more like people with wings for arms. We also had Elves, back then. Gnomes too. Halflings, I think.

Whatre they?

Halfpeople? I dont know. Stop interrupting my story. Im just repeating the Retellings, and I have to get it right.

Okay.

In those days, Dragons created Drakes, their descendants. They built the first Walled Cities afterwards. Afterwardsthe last Elves vanished, and only half-Elves remained. The Dwarves appeared, but they grew taller. The Gnomes vanished, and some species died. Some moved; many fought. There were times when other species ruled the world. Selphids, half-Elves, Humansother species appeared, like Stitch-Folk.

Goblins?

No, they were always there too.

How aboutAntinium?

A little face shivered as Cers curled up. The girl stopped and shivered too, but Satar shook her head.

This is long ago, Cers. Long before the Antinium. Before Humans even came to Izril. The point isback then. When Drakes appeared. When the Walled Cities rose and fell. Through empire and war and cataclysmalways, always. We were here.

Gnolls.

Across every age were Gnolls. But the same could be said of every species. That they had survived was an accomplishment in itself, but there was more to it than that.

How come we dont have a Walled City, Satar? Drakes have six. Why dont we have a kingdom? I want an orchard.

The boy would run around her, too impatient to sit, and miss the pained look in his mothers eyes. Satar would have to catch him, sit him in her lap and comb his hair as she explained. Shed hand him a grasshopper she found in his fur, and hed watch it hop away as she lowered her voice.

We did. We had many things, Cers. We had a kingdom and cities. In older days, we were everywhere. We were in the stories each species tells.

Everyone is in stories, Satar. Im going to be in stories. Ill be a [Hero].

Not a [Chieftain]? You were a [Chieftain] yesterday.

Then Ill be a [Hero Chieftain]. You can tell my story.

She pulled at his ears and he squirmed. Satar shook her head.

Maybe you will be. The thing is, Cers, we are in other species stories if they bother to tell them right. Think about it. Were in their stories. When Goldesh the Vanquisher reclaimed Izrils north from the Troll King, on the eve of the last battle, he sent a Courier to rouse every paw, hand, and claw to battle. He sent Tekre Fleetpaw. When the [Knight-King] Zotn went into his duel against his mortal nemesis, the shape-changing Venom Dragon, Ischeveil, he entrusted his belongings and will to the Explorer Enheirr, who later took it through his kingdom, as it descended into chaos, to his daughter.

Stories. Cers wrinkled his nose, trying to figure out what they had in common. Satar explained it for him.

We were travelers. Explorers! We went everywhere, from Baleros to Chandrar, to the depths of the sea, to the highest mountains. Into the sky, just like they say in Great Plains Sing. Remember? Chieftain Serunial took her tribe beyond the clouds. We were there.

Why arent we now?

Satar exhaled quietly.

Terrible things, Cers. Some people did terrible things. We survived them all. When Dragons scorched the entire world, we hid underground for a long, long time. A terrible time, in the darkness. We had terrible enemies. Humans took the north from us, and Drakes have always made war with us. We were exiled from Terandria. The storm that covered Chandrar in darkness and midnight and created Zeikhalwe fled Baleros. We shrank. We waned. Every species has, but wewe have great enemies.

It was not a fair story. It was a story to explain why they were here, in a fraction of a continent, and not the world over. A story to remember.

Not just other species or monsters or calamity either. There arethings out there Gnolls must be wary of. Like..Raskghar. If youre bad, if youre naughty and break the rules, theyll come for you.

The little boy would hide his head in her fur. She wouldnt tell him the really bad stories, the ones that made her stay up at night. But that was what she had to tell them.

Her audience was listening quietly now. Even a Drake, a Gazer, and some other non-Gnolls were listening. Satar liked stories, and she told the glorious days of the Gnolls well. They had known kingdoms. They had sailed across the world, often helping other species in their stories. Now, though, she uttered one word and felt the hair on her own fur stand up.

Raskghar.

The children drew together or looked for their parents, because it was no longer a myth. It was real. Satar hesitated, but the Retellings were largely the same, even if the circumstances had changed.

Remember to watch for them. Light the camps at night. Be good. Help your tribe. Because Gnolls have faded not when calamity struckwhen it has struck, we have always survived. Terrible things happen, but we fell because we did not stand together. When we quarreled and fought in the darkness and turned on each other or acted like monstersthen came the Raskghar, creeping. Remember we are all Gnolls.

She saw them nodding, looking at each other. Gnolls from every tribe, at this Meeting of Gnolls. They drew together, and Satar, emboldened, went on.

Raskghar andone more thing. If ever you should meet a strange Gnoll on your journey, or see one upon the plains with pale white fur, beware. Beware, for there is one kind of Gnoll that is marked that way. Not with color, but with fur as white as snow, all over.

Her audience looked up, and someone murmured the name as Satar spoke it.

Doombringers.

The very word made the adults whod been idly listening suddenly sit up. The children had already been transfixed, Satar saw, as she looked around solemnly.

Its not to scare you. Well, not just to scare you, young ones. They exist. Gnolls with no tribethough they are of Plains Gnolls, not City Gnolls. Let me tell you a story of the Knocte Tribe and the Beast of Albez.

The way you did a Retelling was stories within stories. So Satar set up the small, prosperous Knocte tribe, who lived in the foothills of Albez, long ago.

They were a happy tribe, not one with great, high-level Gnolls, but happy. One day, one of the [Shepherds] saw a white Gnoll in the distance. She was headed towards their tribe, and though the [Shepherd] knew better, she did not chase the Gnoll off. She went to her [Chieftain], and her [Chieftain] knew better, but the Knocte tribe did not leave, though they saw the white Gnoll and knew what she was. The white Gnoll came among them, and they refused to deal with the white Gnoll, the Doombringer. But they did not do anything more, and for thatthey suffered. The travelling Gnoll left, and the Knocte tribe thought that was the end of it. The next nighta terrible beast emerged from the foothills of Albez and fell upon them.

When she heard the word, Doombringer, one of the Silverfangs leaning on a table and listening sat up. She was Silverfang, but she was also from Liscor, and the word meant more to her than other Gnolls.

Senior Guardswoman Beilmark glanced at Satar, but the [Shaman] was doing a Retelling. And she didnt know. As she went on, her young audience drew together.

Wide eyes. Beilmark had heard stories like this growing up, but shed forgotten howgrisly they were. The Beast of Albez fell upon the Knocte tribe, devouring them, unable to be killed. They tried to flee or hide, but it hunted them down. The [Guardswoman] gritted her teeth, listening as Satar told the Beast of Albez story.

The wide-eyed children were shaking when Satars low voice came to the end of it. Not just because the young Gnoll could project her voice or she had a way with words. She was a good storyteller and augmented her story with little bits of powder or magical components from her pouch.

A darkening of the air. Little shapes of Gnollsthe hint of teeth, a growl in the air as she cast cantrips.

They did not heed the warning. By the last day of the week, the Beast of Albez had devoured the tribe. It sat there, fat and evil and sleepinguntil a warrior came to slay it. Another Gnoll, who took vengeance for the Knocte tribe. But, oh! If only they had listened to the warnings. When you see a Doombringerstay away. Flee the doom it brings! Tell your Chieftain so tragedy can be avoided. That is what white fur betokens. They bring doom. Misfortune. Wherever they go

She looked around, and Beilmark heard the Retellings again. As every Gnoll child heard it many times throughout their lives.

they bring only misfortune and death. But let us not speak too long on Doombringers and Raskghar and darkness, yes? My next tale

It was just one part of the Retellings. And the Retellings were a tradition that encompassed so much history that Satar could speak for seven days and nights and not come close to recounting all the talesnot that she knew all of them.

[Shamans] spoke like this; it was one of their duties. An activity for children, a peaceful one rather than hunts or gathering. Just part of life in the tribes.

Beilmark listened. However, she couldnt smile or applaud Satar like Cers or the audience when the [Shaman] was done. They were stories of Doombringers, glory, downfall, and evil.

But they were wrong. A little girl with white fur lived in the Silverfangs own camp. And this was the story they told about her. This was why they hunted her. These were the stories Mrsha had heard about Doombringers herself, growing up, Beilmark had no doubt.

Now Mrsha was one. A Gnoll with white fur. Doombringer. Beilmark shook her head. She turned away from the tribal activity she had remembered so fondly.

It was wrong.

Satar got into trouble for her Retelling, and she didnt know why. She stood in the [Chieftain]s tent, her home, with Cers whining and pacing around the tent outside. A weary Gnoll with silver-paint markings, a metal-tooth necklace, and that put-upon hunch to her shoulders when she was angry sat there.

Akrisa Silverfang. To her right was her sister, the [Shopkeeper], the Councilwoman of Liscor that had brought back an amazing giftwho had helped expose the Drakes treachery in stealing their magic. Krshia Silverfang.

Also present was Cetrule. The [Shaman of Purity] was silently at work, casting a spell. He could make sure ore mined was pure enough to go to the [Smelter], or ensure drinking water was clean, or the food. He was a practical [Shaman] for a practical tribe.

All three adults were angry at her. Akrisa spoke sharply.

Why did you retell the Doombringer story, Satar? Of all the thingsyoure only lucky our guests didnt hear! Now? At this time?

Mother, I

Satar was confused. She had been riding high after her Retelling, and shed thought shed done a fine job. Everyone had said so. Shed come to see Akrisa and expected to be congratulated.

Instead? Krshia nodded slightly.

Thank goodness she did not hear. But thisthis is the heart of the issue. Each tribe tells it so, Akrisa. How will we put a motion before the gathered Chieftains? Now is the time. It must be the time, yes? But

She trailed off. Akrisa shook her head, but not to gainsay her sister.

You are right, Krshia. I see it now. Like poison, seeping into our ears. From my own tribe and daughter! Satar!

What?

The young Gnoll burst out, and all three adults looked at her. Satar was nearly in tears.

I just told the Retelling like Ive been taught! CetruleVolah herself says I tell the stories as well as she does!

She didnt understand. Akrisa opened her mouth angrily.

That is not the point. With Mri here and

Hold on. Chieftain Akrisa. Honored Krshia. I think we have made a mistake.

Cetrule interrupted suddenly. All three heads turned to him as the [Shaman] looked at Satar, then glanced around.

Satarshe doesnt know about Mri. Or the situation.

Satar looked up, and Akrisas angry expression turned to one of surprisethen regret. Krshia rose slightly.

We did not?

What about Mri? Whats this, Mother? You sent me away.

Chieftain Akrisa hesitated. She glanced at Krshia, then back at Satar. A flash of shame colored her features.

Satar, Ino, you wouldnt know. I have made a mistake in anger.

As did I. Beilmark thought she knew.

Knew what?

But both sisters were looking at each other with that meaningful stare, and Cetrule kept glancing sideways at Satarbut said not a word.

What, Mother?

Akrisa rested her paws on her knees. She looked at Satar, hesitating, and then spoke.

I cannot say, Satar. Forgive me. I have been the one to make the mistake. You could not know. Butno more stories about Doombringers. No more Retellings at all, in fact.

What? Why? Tell me. I am a [Shaman] of the Silverfangs, arent I?

Satar stomped one foot. She knew that was a bad idea. But suddenly she was outraged! This wasnt her fault after all!

You are

Akrisa sighed. Satar waited and saw Krshia look at her with a keen analysis, then back to her sister.

It might be wise, sister. But I will let you be the judge.

Cetrule looked up from inspecting a bowl of silver dust.

There is a danger in it.

Krshia blinked.

To Satar?

The older [Shaman] could only shrug.

To us all, Honored Krshia, Chieftain. Until a decision is made or even proposedI am uncomfortable with the leeway Mri has to begin with to run about.

She is being watched, but she is a precocious child. You are right, Cetrule, but raising suspicions is equally as dangerous. I am comforted that

The adults all noticed Satar listening keenly, trying to piece it together, and fell silent. They looked to Akrisa, and the [Chieftain] of the Silverfangs hesitated. For a long moment, Satar waitedand then Akrisa looked her daughter in the eye.

This is a matter between Chieftains, Satar.

But Im

Even other [Shamans] are not aware of what is going on. I am sorry, butyou do not need to know. Not yet. Nor will I take that risk. Satar, I apologize forSatar!

The young Gnoll didnt reply. She whirled and stormed out of the tent. Krshia slowly reached for a cup of tea and took a sip in the ugly silence after she was gone.

That could have gone better, no? Wecould have told her, Akrisa.

Her older sister stared down at the ground.

It is dangerous. Satar is young.

Capable.

Cetrule returned carefully. Akrisa glared at him, but not with any real rancor.

She makes mistakes. All of us did, but we cannot. Not with Mrsha. It would take one off-hand comment to the wrong [Shaman] and all of the Meeting of Tribes would know a Doombringer was here. And some are murderous.

Would she do that? Shes a sensible young woman, from what I see.

Krshia offered. Akrisa shook her head.

You do not understand how deeply Doombringers are rooted in the tribes, Krshia. I myself felt a chill until you explained it to me many times. Cetrule?

I confessI thought of every story. We tell many. I will not gainsay you, Akrisa, but I sympathize for Satar.

Yet she is immature. She has her headnot in the clouds, but in stories. She is good at Retellings, but if anyone were to take the stories seriously

Krshia looked curiously at Akrisa. This was a part of her family among the Silverfangs that she didnt know about.

Anything Satar has done?

Just silly things young women get up to. Nothing illegal or dangerous. Just silly. I was far too harsh to her with no reason. As for not trusting her

Krshia winced.

It might have been a bad idea. Imagine how we would have taken that?

Akrisa stared blankly ahead.

Yes. I regret that already. But it is done. The Meeting of Chieftains awaits. We must bring it up then, Krshia. If all the rest of these disasters and moments of note dont interfere.

She sat, with a heavy weight on her shoulders. So heavy, she gave little thought to her daughters feelings when weighed against the life of a little girl and the fate of the tribes.

Satar did not slam into her rooms because she didnt have a door. The yurt flaps didnt slam. But she did hurl her staff down and tear off her [Shaman]s dress.

She sniffed. So that was how it was! She was still just the [Chieftain]s daughter. Not important enough to be trusted withwhat was that about Mri? About her stories?

She couldnt make sense of itor if she did have a thought, it was so outlandish as to be impossible.

How was I supposed to know I wasnt to tell Doombringer tales? Is that fair judgment, Mother? Why did you bite my head off, and why wont you tell me why it matters if Im in trouble? Instead, you send me away like Im Cers.

She tossed her [Shaman]s satchel down and rubbed at her eyes.

Ill never be respected here. How can I impress the [Chieftain] when shes you? ImIll go somewhere where Im not the [Chieftain]s daughter. Like Demas Metal or Woven Bladegrass.

She could do that.

That was how they had done it, long ago. She wished she were part of those tales.

Satar sniffled as she sat in her tent. It wasnt fair. She knew her mother had to be a [Chieftain], but she couldnt make Satar be both her daughter and keep secrets.

Satar wasnt joking about leaving her tribe, either. It was something she thought of more and more. It was a terrifying prospect, but could she ever become more than Akrisa Silverfangs daughter here? Aunt Krshia herself had left. Perhaps Satar had to as well, and if so, there would never be a time more fitting than the Meeting of Tribes. But, oh

She didnt want to leave her little brother, or mother, or Cetrule. It was too hard because she loved them, but her position made being familydifficult.

Satar looked around, and Cers wasnt here for once. Even so, Satar cast a [Locking Ward] spell on the tent flaps. She looked around again and then went over to the comfortable roll of cloth rather than a bulky bed that she slept on. She hesitated and then felt around at a small package tucked into the corner of her bed.

Slowly, the [Shaman] pulled something out of its hiding place. Her secrethobby. Obsession? Satars paws shook slightly as she unwrapped the object and held it up. It was

A magical book. Thin as a journal, and with more pages than Satar could count. She rifled through it, as the little bundle of books shed bought with her own coin sat around her. Yet that wasnt what Satar was focused on. Slowly, she found where she had stopped, and her paw hesitated over the last passage. She traced the line with a furry finger and read out loud.

then, Ferkr Shallenside stood before the Meeting of Tribes as the Earth Elemental of the Gaarh Marsh tribe raised the crystal overhead. All secrets were revealed then; the treachery of the Drakes

She hesitated. Satar fiddled with something, and then lifted a quill. A magic quill, because she had no inkwell, and industriously scribbled. She re-checked her passage.

All secrets were revealed then; the treachery of the Drakes crystal, which had been buried under Azmuzarres traditional grounds, seemingly unbeknownst to all, shone plainly for all to see. Later, allegations that this was a part of Fissivals ancient network repurposed to steal Gnolls magic, or a planted artifact by some other enemy of Gnolls, would surface. However, the truth of it was not yet borne out as of writing, in the 16th of Eviun, currently

She left a blank. Shed have to figure out the exact year and write in multiple dates. And she felt strongly about writing down multiple dates, not just Wistrams calendar, or the Gnolls. This had to be an unbiasedless biased take. Especially if people would one day read it.

Satar sat, working hard, pouring her frustrations and anger into the book.

The book, which was entitled A Record of Satar, Volume 1. The world as she saw it, the news as she heard it. Someday, someone might read it, or shed have it bound and copied by a [Scribe] and [Bookbinder]. Someday

She might be a [Historian]. Or simply a [Writer], or even someone as famous as Krsysl Wordsmith. Satar tried to mix storytelling with history, because she didnt like dry anecdotes. She liked [Shaman] stories. But she was more than a spellcaster, in fact.

She was

A [Storyteller].

Classes had variations and secrets, but there was an order to classes as they pertained to storytellers, entertainers, and so on that most people cared not about. Like a [Soldier] became [Lieutenant] or [Sergeant]which could be a dead-end classor someday rose to [General] and beyond [General]

Most great [Bards], [Writers], and advanced classes like [Historian] started as [Storyteller]. Or [Speaker]. Or [Scribe] or [Scribbler]. [Scrivener] was, of course, higher-level.

The class Satar had wasnt secret to her mother or Cetrule; appraisal spells existed, and Satar was honestespecially because she liked the gifts and accolades for a level. However, she had justified it as being part of the Retellings, and her mother had allowed it because classes were something to be celebrated among the Gnoll people, regardless of what they were. You didnt have to pursue a passion if you didnt want to; her mother was a Level 7 [Fisher], for instance, and sometimes talked with [Anglers] when they visited the coast for hours about the double-line backflip supreme jagged hook or whatever.

Satar actually had a proper list of fishing terms and fish and hooks and whatnot lying around somewhere, but she was allowed to be petty. Indeed, her journal/chronicle obsessively noted a lot of details, like new monsters, any classes or Skills she learned the true nature of, and so forth.

Political events, important figuresespecially the King of Destruction! All of it was grist to Satars level-mill, and, oh, she wanted to level up. She had found that the most economical way to level was by writing down everything important.

She wanted to level up. Everyone did, and Satar had an obsession with it. She was a bog-standard Level 16 [Shaman], which was fine for a nineteen year-old. Hitting Level 20 sometime in her 20s was good progress.

But Satar did not want that. She knew that every famous Gnoll had stories of hitting Level 30 before they had turned thirty! Sometimes before they turned twenty!

She wanted to be important, especially because she was the Chieftains daughter. She might not become [Chieftain], but she wanted

Levels. Her mother knew she was a [Storyteller], and she didnt cast [Appraisal] since you had to pay for a [Mage], spell scroll, or have a Skill, none of which she actually had. So she had no idea that Satar had long surpassed her [Shaman] levels. She was, in fact, a Level 23 [Archival Storyteller].

[Archival Storyteller] wasnt that great a class, incidentally. Satar suspected it was because she kept writing down the world around her, rather than telling a story. She wanted [Historian] or [Writer]that earned you real respect among the community.

Not that the community of writers was very strong among Plains Gnolls. Of course, any Gnoll enjoyed a good book, but they had a very oral tradition, so a Gnoll who finished a book might end up telling the entire book with their own embellishments to friends over the course of a week or a hunt. The thing was

They talked. They were good talkers, but that meant they were not strong writers. Books, paper, those were harder to get for a nomadic people, as was storage. [Shamans] remembered and did Retellings and passed on their information by word-of-mouth.

Satar listened and wrote it down. Because someone had to! She knew there was a place for it in libraries, and she wanted her story to be that.

The trick to leveling up as a [Writer] was to find what gained you the most levels. Other people were less deliberate about levelling. Satar? Immensely dedicated to each new level. She wrote down news and events every night and kept a little record of the days she leveled up. What made her gain her new level?

Often, at the start, it was justwriting down a big event, like the King of Destruction waking up. Devote enough pages to the account and she leveled, especially if she felt she had done a good job evoking the entire narrative. Satar realized that describing the world, describing appearances, the setting, earned her levels faster, so she did that.

However, like all classes, you slowed in leveling rapidly after Level 10, and more after Level 20by Level 30 and Level 40, you were lucky if you leveled once a year unless you did something dramatic. For a [Warrior]? Fighting huge battles or in wars was how they levelled; people who just trained in peace stagnated at the same level for years.

Satar had wondered the obvious questionhow did you gain massive levels as a [Storyteller]? If a [Mage] got levels from mastering a grand spell, and a [Warrior] for slaying some beast

The answer was publication. Orif you were a vocal storyteller like a [Bard]performances, especially to important audiences. The only problem was that publishing a book wasnt as easy as justwriting something down and magically copying it around.

Satar wished she could do that, but the truth was a book took a dedicated [Scribe]or you had to do each book by copying over line after line with your best handwritinggetting good, quality paper, binding itand you had to pay an expert for thatand doing that a few hundred to a few thousand times and finding a way to sell it! Distribute it! Get anyone to read

There were ways. And there were more than a few ways to level and write. You could level in [Storyteller] in other ways, like doing Retellings well. Or

Reading. [Reader] was inherently tied to [Writer]; they were sides of the same coin. One could level in the others class at a slower rate by doing the opposite, and Satar had been a Level 11 [Book Reader] when it consolidated into her [Archival Storyteller]. Now, reading a good book might move her towards her next level.

Of course, you had to have a book to read first, and Gnolls didnt own libraries. Satar couldnt imagine a worse species to have been born as to be a book-loving writer-reader. Maybe Garuda? But they could fly and visit cities easily. Goblins didnt count. Nor did Antinium. Fraerlings? Did they have tiny books?

They must have libraries! Satar wanted to visit one, go to a Walled Citybut she was Akrisa Silverfangs daughter. Sometimes, Satar wondered if she would have to tell her mother and what it would mean. Would she become a Gnoll of Silverfang or would she

Leave? She hadnt intended to leave at the Meeting of Tribes as some Gnolls could do, to seek fortune and fame. After today? She thought about it.

But Silverfang was her tribe. Satar didnt earn money, and she couldnt fend for herself. Silverfang was a fairly rich tribe, so she had a good stipend of money, which she spent on her secret hobby. Only Cers knew she even had a book, and he just thought she liked drawing on the pages like he did, that book-defacing monster.

Satar had gear, Skills, and levels. She was unto the world of writing a Silver-rank adventurer in her mind. Her biggest weapon was her quill, which she had saved up for four years to buy.

It was a magic quill that you linked to a bottle of ink with a simple dip of the pen. Then it wrote without needing to be dipped or running dry. It had cost her four gold coins and nine silver, down five silver from haggling with the [Enchanter] when she mentioned a book he liked and how she wanted to write as well.

Ink would have eaten the rest of Satars writing budget in a heartbeat, and in the past shed even experimented with trying to make it herselfwith bad results, as the ink bled through the cheap parchment, ruining one of her earlier pieces of work completely.

The thing about leveling was that it made your life easier. For instancethe first Skill most [Writer]-based storytellers got was [Corrected Spelling]. Minor mistakes vanished.

Another great Skill Satar had gotten was [Quickened Scribing], which changed her writing pace with a quill to double its speed at Level 23. Another? [Remove Inkstains]. Perfect for fur.

Those were lower-level Skills. [Anti-Cramping Muscles] was actually universally useful, and Satar had once helped mend nets for the Silverfang [Hunters] while they visited a coast for two days straight without needing a healing potion once.

Her capstone Skills at Level 10 and Level 20 were naturally the best, though. For her Level 10 Skill, Satar had gotten the prize of a lifetimeat least in her eyes when the girl had received it at 15 years old.

[A Bottle A Day: Ink]. Every day, shed wake up, and one of her carefully-placed bottles of ink would be full to the brim with whatever basic color she wanted. Shed experimented, and she could get red, blue, or even yellow and greenbut not more than that. No fancy inks, and only a small inkwell, not a big onealthough the amount of ink had grown as she gained the next thirteen levels.

It was beyond useful because, not only could Satar save her free ink, she could sell italthough, often, the cost of the glass bottle outweighed the ink itself. But she had made silver at times, selling it to [Scribes].

Her Level 20 Skill was a bit more mundane, but a bit more powerful. [Narrative: Spot Inconsistencies]. Far less materials, and seemingly useless

Until Satar looked at her writing and saw how many times she used the word, or. Or realizing she had never given context to the Ferkr-Grimalkin connection in her anecdotes about him and wrote a section explaining who Grimalkin of Pallass was and referring readers to her notes on Pallass and the Walled Cities

She wondered what her Level 30 Skill was and was determined to find out before she turnedtwenty-five. Yes, that seemed possible.

Indeed, Satar had high hopes of leaving the Meeting of Tribes Level 25. She had come here at Level 21 and already leveled up twice from recording the dramatic events. And

Well, if publishing was the goal of a [Writer], Satar was on baby-steps since she showed no one her work, right? She would never get to higher levels until she got enough money to really publish, and that was sort of a snowball effect because you had to have money to publish a lot and become famous, and you had to be famous and have an audience to have the money to

Wrong. In fact, even among Gnolls, there were ways to get ahead. The storytelling community was not withoutmeans.

Later that day, in the Meeting of Tribes, two hooded figures met behind one of the communal tents, this one reserved to let visitors see a [Performer]s act. Amid the hubbub of someone juggling knives and the gasps of admiration, loud voices, and occasional suppressed screams as someone got stabbed

Two figures met and were joined by a third. All three could smell each other; they smelled like paper and ink, and the disguises werent waterproof. Nevertheless, the first two growled at the third.

Password?

Password? I dont know a password

Guess.

Um. UhQuintessential Literature?

The two looked at each other. The first thought about it.

Thats got enough syllables. Well accept it.

I would have held out for Nomenclature. Literatures too common a word.

The other two figures turned to the first. The new Gnoll held up her paw.

What does nomenclature mean?

The wordy-hooded figure cleared their throat. Heit was definitely a hespoke.

The way of devising or choosing names for things. Not the words themselves; thats lexicon. The method.

Can you use it in a sentence?

A loud sigh. The hooded figures kept up their quiet banter as they rustled for bags of holdings or items.

Alright, lets see it. What do you have?

I havetwo of the latest off-the-cover stories of Tales of Adventure and Woe. Big namesfresh off the Mages Guild. Literal hours.

Ooh. Who?

Heartslayi and Sandquen themselves.

The new Gnoll groaned.

Them? Theyre romance.

The nomenclature-Gnoll grunted beneath his hood as he waved the pieces of bound parchment at the other two. It was cheap; the other two had paper goods, but quality varied.

Yeah, well, not this time. You know Sandquen?

Ive read their work. Somehow; I bet she pays people to read it because theres no other way it gets traded around. Even in her genre. Not impressed.

Sandquen had never been published in Tales of Adventure and Woe. She lacked in some fundamentals, but she was just a weird writer too, who jumped to the glorious moments without proper buildup. Amateurs.

Howeverthe Gnoll insisted on showing the others the first paragraph.

Shes gotten better. This ones about the Silver Swordswoman in Nerrhavias Fallen. Very sentimental, and full of platitudes and whatnot, but it reads realistic and better than anything else.

Huh. It isbetter.

The new Gnoll paged through the story before it was snatched back and felt a pang of grudging envy. Both writers had an actual audience to be featured here. To have people peddling their works. They had to level up to that.

What about Heartslayi?

Also different. Its a mysteryshe calls it a heist story. Its a breakout of a magical prison, but its come out in installments. No one knows how itll end, and shes not updatedshe normally posts a new one every few days.

Weird. Is it good?

Very. How much do you want for it?

Will youtrade for some poetry? Ive got about fifty-two poems

Pass.

Its good poetry. Written by a Level 16 [Poet]!

The second hooded figures voice was defensive. Both first and third Gnoll shifted, and one coughed. The second hooded figures voice grew louder.

Its not me! Swear by the tribes! Look, just read ititll help someone level, alright?

Ohfine. But Im trading all of it for the Heartslayi copy, and youre paying for the rest. I guess I can share it with people in the city

Grumbling, the first hooded Gnoll made the trade. The third, Satar, piped up uncertainly.

II have a story too. Three copies. Its entitled, The Revelation of Ferkr. Its about what happened at the Meeting of Chieftains.

The two other Gnolls looked at her. Satar was beet red under her hood, but the first Gnoll made a sound.

Interesting. I heard Krsysl Wordsmith and other [Writers] were tackling itis that a copy or something?

No. Itswritten from the perspective of someone who was here. Its historical.

No one had to say who wrote what, but the other two Gnolls exchanged glances. They took the pieces of paper Satar had paid for and worked so hard on and read.

Huh. History? But were all here. Why do we need this?

Because not everyone was here.

The two looked at her, and the first Gnoll, who had been to a Mages Guild, nodded.

Interesting. Ill takehow many copies do you have?

Her heart leapt.

Six.

Ill take four, then.

One for me. I bet you can get the others sold off, especially if you can get more. How much per?

II can get more! Eight copper.

The others fished for coins. Satar held her breath; she priced her stuff low, mostly so that the people who attended these gatherings would buy. She took a loss most times, but gained in levels.

Pleasure doing business with you. We have a meeting tomorrow. Well go to a big tent. Someonell hang a fish on the tent so you can find itnear the Steelfur camps. Late night.

A fish? Thatll stink to the skies.

I think its a carved fish, but well see.

The group of three had traded goods, and Satar had a copy of some poetry, the two new stories, and even a free little story she suspected the Gnoll with the poetry had written. But shed read it all. This was the underground black market of words, and there was no better place for it than the Meeting of Tribes.

See you there, then. Alright

Which also begged the question why all three bothered to do it in secret. The three hooded Gnolls standing behind the tent were turning to go when suddenly, someone howled. They frozeand then a Gnoll came bounding around the tent, a huge, spiked mace in hand.

Three more Gnolls, all wearing extremely dangerous-looking armor, what looked like shell armor to Satar, delicate mithril scale mail, and a poor Gnoll with plain leather, bounded around the corner, all holding weapons.

By order of the Meeting of Tribes! Freeze!

The Azmuzarre Gnoll brandished the club with spikes made of some monsters teeth, and the Gnolls in hoods threw up their paws. One of the Gnolls sniffed.

We were just

Shut up. You lot make me sick. What are you selling? Selphid Dust? It cant be Dreamleaf. Smells like rolls of parchment and ink.

Killing spells? Watch for traps

Move and die! Hey, you. [Guardsman]. How do you want to search them?

The Gnoll with leather armor gulped as the three high-level Gnolls, each from a different tribe, turned to him.

Guardsman Tkrn of Liscor hesitated.

Well, if we think theyve got something deadlymake them place it, and if they so much as twitch on the [Detect Magic] radar, we take them down. Hoods off, robes off, lying down so they cant twist and stab us.

Good idea. Do it.

The [Guardsman] watched as the Gnolls placed their suspicious cargo on the ground. Unlike the last three busts, which had seen Gnolls stealing everything from secret recipes from other tribes to dangerous drugs to stolen goodshe eyed the books and manuscripts.

Whats this? Secrets? Hoods off!

But

Now.

The Azmuzarre Gnoll didnt ask twice. The hoods came off, and Tkrn looked at Satar as she stared at him. He blinked.

Satar?

Held by her captors, the young woman stared the Archmage in the eyes. His sharp goatee and twisted smile on his face were like a piercing razor, but she never looked away. Her chest rose and fell as he snipped the first layer of cloth away with a spell.

This would be easier if you told me where you were hiding the key, he said. But the young woman refused to speak. Across from her, the bared chest and sculpted muscles of the young [Mage] shone with the faintest sheen of perspiration in the cells thin light.

Then, some incentive will do. Call for the Golems

At this point, one of the [Shamans] had to put down the manuscript of Heartslayis latest novella. Another fanned himself.

Is it getting hot in here, or is it just me, yes? So this is the illicit goods, eh?

He turned, and Satar wanted to vanish into the ground like a [Shaman of the Earth]. She sat, burning with embarrassment under her fur.

I thought you said she wasnt writing romance!

One of the two Gnolls sitting with her hissed at their companion. The male Gnoll, who was actually a [Tracker] from the Plains Eye tribe, held up his paws.

It isnt romance! Not really! Sheits Heartslayi. What did you expect?

Silence.

The Azmuzarre Gnoll glared at them, but even the [Warrior] was trying very hard not to laugh. He sighed loudly.

Why were you hiding? Behind a tent? You wasted our time and yours, unless theres some secret in it? Hidden codes?

If there is, its hidden under all the abdominal muscles and light torture. What is it with Humans and bellies?

Probably the lack of fur.

A group of [Shamans] from each Gnolls tribe and a few others were investigating the criminality. Satar wanted to die; not least because she and the two other Gnolls were now known.

A [Tracker], a [Shaman], and a [Netweaver], all from different tribes, all with a secret uniting passion. The worst part? The reason Satar wished theyd all been killed on the spot?

Cetrule was half-covering his face, avoiding her expression as the [Shamans] read out another passage from the manuscript. They were all much amused.

Theyre definitely not in troubleunless liking this is a crime.

It should be. This is bad poetry.

Hey! I know the Gnoll who wrote that!

The [Netweaver] protested. The [Shamans] glanced over and one looked at Satar.

This is hardly illegal, Warrior Kuzait. We regret the wasted time, but perhaps these Gnolls will stop doing this in the future. It is not embarrassing to have a hobby, yes? More openness might help.

As you say, Shaman.

Kuzait sighed loudly. He turned to the trio with him, one of whom was Tkrn.

Thank you for your help, fellow warriors. We are surely done with our parts. Tomorrow?

If we dont go to war before then. Yes. An honor to meet you all.

The Gnolls broke up, and the [Shamans] turned. One looked at the three [Readers] with some mischief in her eyes.

You are also free to go, although Im afraid this might get out among the tribes. Fear not. Theres nothing to be embarrassed about. Ill buy one of these Heartslayi stories myself. How much?

And that was that. The other two Gnolls left the tent fastafter selling one copy to the [Shaman]with their trade-goods. It was a lighthearted moment, if hugely embarrassing.

Satar sat where she was for a long while, before Cetrule walked over. He inspected her works and picked them up, offering them to her.

We should, ah, get back to the Silverfang tribe. Akrisa sent me right away when she heard. She will want to know all is well.

Oh.

So her mother knew shed been arrested. Satar walked after Cetrule, head hung low. She tried to say something as they left the tent.

Chieftain Akrisa doesnt have to know why I was stopped, does she?

Cetrule hesitated, clearly torn.

Shewill want to know why. And not knowing the answer will bother her more than the reason. Which is notawful? Not at all.

He looked at Satar, and the [Shaman] didnt say anything.

Its not a shame to have a hobby, Satar. If it is what you likeshe knows you are a [Storyteller]. She might even be glad to hear of your level. Level 23 [Archival Storyteller]. You didnt tell us you were Level 23! She would have thrown you a celebration.

I was going to. Later. I wanted it to be a surprise.

The [Shamans] had used [Appraisal] on her to make sure she had no untoward classes. They were thorough. Cetrule nodded, looking at her.

Then, you prefer this class over being a [Shaman].

I like being a [Shaman]!

She protested, but she heard the disappointment in his voice. Satar looked at Cetrule wretchedly.

I just like stories too. I didnt want to do anything wrong.

You didnt.

I was arrested. Mother will think Im a child. Thats why she doesnt trust me, isnt it?

Satar was close to tears again. Cetrule hesitated. He touched one of the silver charms hanging from his bracelet as he slowed. They were coming close to the Silverfang tribe, and more celebrations were on the way.

The Meeting of Tribes was winding down, but the threat of Drake armies, the revelation of the magic-theftit was complicating the ending. Still, there was always an event, and Satars Retellings were one of a dozen on even the slowest day. It looked like a little parade, a celebration passing by their tribe, so Cetrule turned to Satar.

She regretted that, Satar. Truly. It is unimaginably stressful for your mother and her sister right now, and they do not even trust the secret with the other Honored Gnolls of the Silverfangs. Only a handful know; even the Chieftains of other tribes working with us tell no one but their most trusted Gnolls.

Satars head rose. The [Storyteller] felt a tingle on the back of her paws.

Is it something likeFerkr? Or our gift to the Meeting of Tribes?

Bigger still in its way.

Bigger? What, Cetrule?

He hesitated. The [Shaman] looked around, then drew her into one of the tents not being used yet. He sighed.

Give me five minutes. I would have to do this in the Silverfang tribe anyways.

He drew something on the ground. A circle, no, a warding sigil Satar recognized. It took Cetrule seven minutes, and he actually pulled out silver dust to complete it. It was one of the most complete wards for privacy he could manage.

There. I can tell you, now. But turn this way so no one can read my lips.

The Gnoll angled his back to the closed flaps, and Satars fur prickled. She was excitedbut suddenly nervous at the precautions Cetrule had taken. He leaned forwards, and Satar held her breath.

That child who is in the Silverfang tribewho Krshia and Akrisa made a fuss over when she arrived?

The one Qwera, the Golden Gnoll, brought? I thought she was her daughter or helper. Mri, you mean?

Yesthat one. She is not Qweras daughter, though she is under her protection. The protection of Silverfang, Weatherfur, Longstalkers Fang, Ekhtouch, and Greenpaw. I fear it might not be enough for all that.

Not for two great tribes, Longstalkers Fang, and Silverfang? Is she in danger or something?

Satar wondered how that was possible. Cetrule nodded shortly.

She is. And not fromDrakes. Or anyone else. She is in danger of other Gnolls killing her.

Why? Why

Satar felt like she knew. That little girl with the brown fur and painted ears who Cers didnt like? Gires friend? But suddenly, the [Storyteller] found her mind wandering back to her mothers anger. The story

A white Gnoll.

The young Gnoll whispered suddenly, and Cetrule jerked.

How did you?

It makes sense. Its obvious. It has to beor Mother wouldnt have been angry. Im right? Shes a Doombringer?

Never say that.

Satar blinked. Cetrule was pale. She grinned in delightthen her mouth opened wide.

Wait. I am right? Shes a?

Suddenly every story she had ever been told flashed in her mind. Cetrule looked at Satar.

You are.

Shes a

Satar was going through surprise the wrong way, from confidence to realizing more and more what that meant. Incredulously, she looked at Cetrule and suddenlyshe wanted to talk to Mri. A Doombringer? How? Why would Akrisa let her in?

But she was a child. So the storiesCetrule watched Satar thinking. She didnt draw back in horror as her mother had feared. If anythingit confirmed he was right to tell her. He exhaled in relief.

Her name is Mrsha. She is the girl that was kidnapped from Liscor. She is under our protection, and the Silverfangs of Liscor know her.

Shes that girl?

Satar started. Again, Cetrule was surprised, but she remembered that broadcast. The [Shaman of Purity] sighed.

Yes. It is a long story, and Akrisa or Krshia can tell you the rest. Even Beilmark or Tkrnthey all know. But you will not speak of it without a secrecy-ward in place, Satar. As [Chief Shaman], I order you to keep it secret. Understood?

She nodded rapidly. This changed everything. She wanted to record all this downthen she saw Cetrule watching her and realizedshe couldnt.

I wont tell anyone.

Or write it down?

Cetrule! Im not stupid!

Satar blushed, knowing the last hour hadnt really helped her case. But she put her paws together.

By the pride of Silverfang, I wont. I mean it. This isnt about my class. This ishuge.

Wait until you hear about Rose and Inkarr.

Cetrule muttered, and Satars mouth fell open. So he had to tell her about that. She nearly burst their secrecy ward from her voice alone.

Theyre from another world?

Cetrule shielded his ears.

Yes! Stop shouting!

Why arent you more excited about that?

We have every issue in front of us, Satar! Mrsha is in trouble, and her name is Mriremember that. Be careful of even speaking about her in front of Plains Eye. They are one of the most active groups hunting her.

But another worldand you justhave you talked with them? Can I?

Satar had three people she needed to interview. She had wanted to talk to Feshi, of course, but now Feshi was an ant compared to the mountain of treasurenone of which she could write! Someday! SomedaySatar just wanted to know.

Another world. Cetrule disappointed her with his mentality, but he just shrugged helplessly.

I did. They are fascinating and have objects of another worldah, that tragedy. Chieftain Orelighn found a vessel that crashed out of the skies from their world. With dead children in it. Young people. They always seem to be young. But I honestly cannot imagine what they tell me. They have pictures, though. I will make sure you speak with them. Again, we must wait for the Meeting of Chieftains to bring it up. I will let your mother explain the rest. But I have told youand that will simplify things.

He sighed, and Satar realized he had done all this on his authority as the Silverfangs [Chief Shaman].

Thank you, Cetrule.

He smiled as he broke the ward and tried to reclaim the dust. Hed have to purify it and the dirt, but it was worth it to him to see the [Shaman] happy again. They headed out of the tent and smelled smoke on the air and grilled meats.

I hope you will accept that, for me telling Akrisa about your hobby. Did you write that history of Ferkr?

YesI like stories. I wrote down all the Retellings. Someone should, Cetrule.

The Gnoll didnt argue like she expected, just rubbed his chin and hmmed.

Someone should. There are books like that, you know.

Her heart leapt and sank.

There are?

You are not the only one to have that idea, but we never maintained a central library. We did oncebut like everything, we lose and gain. The older [Shamans] might know more. But it is not a bad idea. You could very well write down stories of our peopleAkrisa would surely let you do that and sell copies. We can bring it up after the Meeting of Tribes ends. I think shell be proud to hear of your levels. Hurt you didnt tell her.

Its justI didnt want to

The young woman was trying to explain what it was like to strike out, to do something in secret on her own without parental supervision, to be her own person to Cetrule, as if he had never heard of the idea before, when they came to the celebration as it passed by the Silverfang tribe.

That was when Satar saw Mrsha, really saw her for the first time.

A white Gnoll. A Doombringer.

Of course, what Satar saw was a little girl, roughly Cers age. Old enough to stand on her two legs if she wanted to, which she was doing now, clinging to a giant Gnolls hand. A [Paragon], so tall that she had to bend slightly to let Mrsha squeeze it.

Gireulashia, whose fur shone, perfect in mind and appearance. Compared to her, Mrsha looked so plain.

One child among others, although the tips of her ears had been painted gold. Golden, like the Golden Gnoll, Qwera. Aside from that? She was so plain that Satar hadnt really noticed her.

Mrsha was a silly girl. She had, of all things, a crabs shell strapped to the top of her head like a silly hat, and Gire had one too. A childs fancy. She had a bag full of gold and a magic wand, and in that she was not like other children.

However, what Satar noticed now, as she coughed and smelled meat, burning wood, and heard a [Shaman] shouting and a crowd cheering happily, were Mrshas eyes.

Brown eyes, a Gnolls eyes. A girls eyes

And far older than they should be. At times, like now, it seemed like someone far older, still a child, but older, ancient, was staring out of the little girls face. Not for knowledge or the weight of years.

Simplyweariness. A weary, sad expression. A terrible weight all in one look. Not directed at Satar or Cetrule. The [Storyteller] nearly ran into the [Shaman]s back.

Then she noticed the celebration. So caught up in staring at Mrsha, Satar never sawthe event.

It was a simple one. Gnolls ate hot meat from a hunt. They laughed and drank and talked and followed the [Shaman] from the Plains Eye tribe as they led a strange contraption forward, hoisted on a few poles by Gnolls careful not to let the embers burn anything down or touch their fur.

It was an effigy. The kind of thing you burned. The flames were halfway up, and the smoke was acrid because of the paint. Satar looked up and saw a white Gnoll burning.

A Doombringer. The Gnolls cheered as it burned, and it passed by the Silverfang camp. Some Gnolls came out to join them, not knowing why Liscors representatives and some of the Gnolls went so silent.

But they werent Doombringers. The little girl watched the white Gnoll burning as Gire tried to distract her. The worst part? If Satar could have written it down, she would have put it like this:

The little girl looked like my brother. She didnt look evil, and Doombringers were always described as evil to me. In every story. As bad as Raskghar. I wondered, then, if any stories were true. Because if she was evil, no one was good.

Maybe she was cursed. I didnt know. But the saddest part as she watched the effigy of the Doombringer burning wasnt that the other Gnolls were cheering. Or that none of us could say anything. The saddest partwas that she didnt look surprised.

Satar would never write this down. Not until the day came when it wouldnt endanger anyone. Never, never. But she kept writing in her heart, in her mental diary.

That was the moment when I knew I had to help her. Find the truth. Doombringer. What

Were we lied to?

Something began to tingle in her mind. That rare class, that rare Skillbegan to reach out. Highlight the mistakes in red, and they were everywhere. Satar reached for her Skill and felt it.

[Narrative: Spot Inconsistencies].

Mrsha du Marquin stood with her crab-hat on her head. It had seemed like such a good idea when she had crab legs with Gire today.

Now? She looked at the little bit of string looped through the crab shell and decided it was a mockery of a dead crabs life. She took it off. She didnt want to play anymore.

Mrsha? Are you okay?

Gire hovered around Mrsha, like an anxious terrier the size of a water buffalo. She nudged Mrsha.

Want to play? I have the smartphone. Lets play, Mrsha.

The girl stared up at Gire. She reached for her notecard and wrote, staring up at the blue sky tarnished by smoke.

I am adequately entertained, Gire. I will lie here now and rest recumbent forevermore. Or until I get tired, thank you.

Gire hesitated. Her brows crossed. In anyone else but a Terandrian noble, Mrshas eloquent writing would have stumped them, much less from a child. Gire, though?

Verily, Mrsha, I quite comprehend the impetus to laxitudity, but maudlin does not become you. I would that you repast yourself on fine foods or find something of import and would help you find that. What aboutcookies?

Mrsha almost smiled.

Forsooth, dear friend. It seems I needs must join you in some small measure of delight. Let us abscond, then. Carry me.

So Gire scooped her up, and Mrsha hugged her great friend. She buried her face into Gires arm. The [Paragon] hugged her gently and glared at the burning Gnoll effigy as she turned away.

It was then that Rose burst into tears. She started blubbering so hard for Mrsha, for Gire, that Adetr Steelfur stopped walking towards her, hesitated, and went to buy a gift and wait for her to stop.

Someone else was covertly watching the chaotic scene, yet he ignored everyone but the white Gnoll. That poor child.

Mrsha. How much more did she have to put up with? Didnt youif you knew what she had been through to get heredidnt you want to pick her up, hold her, and tell her it would be all right and that that would never happen to her?

That was exactly why a Gnoll started forwards, paws outstretched. He never went through the Silverfang camp. A group of Gnolls stopped him.

Chieftain Mrell. Chieftain Torishi Weatherfur has spoken. You are not permitted within the camp without invitation.

A Gnoll patterned like the blue sky and clouds, with both on his fur, looked at Mrell as he casually put an arm out. He did not draw the glass sword at his side, but he didnt have to.

Weatherfurs Gnolls were guarding Silverfangs camp, something confusing to anyone who thought about it. Mrell looked at the Gnoll.

But I

He tried to push past the [Guard] without an explanation. Just that he had to holdhis daughter.

His daughter, who he had left. Who hehis daughter, left with his tribe who had perished while hed been away starting a new life.

He had no right, and Torishi had told him that to his face. And yet. The Weatherfur Gnoll carefully grabbed Mrell, and two more Gnolls held him.

Chieftain Mrell! whats going on?

One of his bodyguards had no idea what was going on, and the Gnolls of the Demas Metal tribe slowed. A Great Tribe like Weatherfurno one wanted to cause an altercation, but they put their paws on their weapon hilts. Demas Metalthey were all armed with the new weaponry.

Enough. Hold. Itsjust for a second? Ishe needs me.

She does not need you, Chieftain Mrell. She has someone to look after her. You would make it worse.

The lead-warrior looked at Mrell and delivered the address without direct hostility, but still, planted a dagger in Mrells chest and twisted it a few times. What Mrell deserved? Yetthe Gnoll looked up as a babble of voices broke out.

Wait! Let me

Someone went down hard as three Ekhtouch guards appeared out of the shadows and tackled her. Of the two estranged parentsPrha got it worse because she had tried to stealth over the edge of the Silverfang camp walls. She was jumped on by three Gnolls who had a head and a lot of mass on her. Even so, the [Warrior] of the Sofang tribe looked after her daughter.

Mrsha! Mr

Silence.

The struggling Gnoll woman and Mrell turned as someone walked through the camp. The guards nodded to Shaman Cetrule as he stalked forwards. He was angry. He cast a spell, and Prhas words were swallowed away.

You two are not permitted in the Silverfang camp. Begone, now. Are you mad? Do not speak that name. Begone and do not come back.

He snapped, and Mrell rememberedPrha was using Mrshas real name. She was Mri, here. He had almost said it himself. The Gnoll stirred, and she was picked up, hustled to the edge of the camp, and Mrell was pushed back.

Can I send her a message? Anything?

No. You have no right.

But shes our

Prha and Mrell stood together, and the two glanced at each other, then away. Mrell, Chieftain of the new tribe, the up-and-coming Demas Metal with their wondrous steel, looked into Cetrules eyes. A young [Shaman] stared at him, confused, and then at Cetrules hostile face.

That is why you have even less of a right. Begone. Stop trying to insert yourself into her life. The best thing that ever happened to Mri was that you two left.

Cetrule jabbed a finger in Mrells face, and the [Chieftain] recoiled. He stalked into the camp, and the Silverfangs who had overheard blinked at the chief [Shaman]. They had seldom seen him so confrontational.

They left, because they had no other choice, but both of them kept looking towards the Silverfang camp. They listenedbut they heard nothing. Their daughter never said a word. So the Gnolls sniffed, trying to pick up her scent. And they knew her.bringer. Mrell had thought she had been cursed when she had been born mute. He had tried to abandon her, then.

Now? He wanted to make up for then and now. Do something. Something

It came back to Doombringers. It came back to tradition, every time. The Waning World, this era, the smaller tribes, their situationit was all based in the past. So long ago all they had were legends and fragmented memories.

Chieftain Akrisa met her sisters eyes and knew it was time. Chieftain Firrelle of Ekhtouch, Chieftain Orelighn of Greenpaw, Chieftain Eska of Longstalkers Fang, and Chieftain Torishi Weatherfur of her clan with Feshi Weatherfur, the [Strategist] of the Titan of Baleros, met in a tent.

Akrisa cleared her throat as she looked from face to face.

I have a plan to propose the change to the Doombringers fate. I hope you will all stand with me on this.

Now? Today? We havent finished arguing about what to do about Fissival and the Drakes stealing our magic. Nor about the Raskghar. Or about Earth.

Chieftain Firrelle frowned. Akrisa looked at her and wondered if she were on their side. She wasfor Earthers. But Ekhtouch had never made their position on Doombringers clear. She looked at Eska and got a nod of support. Orelighn was also a good Gnoll.

Torishi? The Weatherfurs Chieftain gazed at Firrelle, and the light shone down upon her, a beam of light from the skies, which followed Weatherfurs [Chieftain of Countless Skies] at all times.

Weatherfur will not allow that child to be killed. I say tradition is wrong, Firrelle. At least, where it intersects with Doombringers. If I must drag every Great Tribe with meI will. We will put to motion the other issues. Akrisa will not bring it up just yet. She has a plan, but you must stand with her until it is time to strike, or else it will not succeed, yes?

Firrelle raised her brows as Torishi deferred to Akrisa and let the Silverfang [Chieftain] explain.

We will speak of Earth, today. Tell them of Inkarr and Rosealthough their presentation must be careful and secret. But in the doing, we will bind other tribes to our cause. They have already seen we were right about magic.

A grand alliance of tribes. A majority to force the last, pivotal issue.

Eska murmured. She fiddled with the dagger at her side.

Tribes do not simply go along with each other.

Orelighn pointed out reasonably. Akrisa nodded, and Cetrule bowed to him.

Yet they do trust wisdom. Chieftains have already seen that we stand united and have been right about magic. Soif we present Earth to them, and garner their trust, they will come to see we are also right about MrshMri. We will present her to them and win them over.

Authority by winning each vote. Hrr. Very well. I agree on Earth, so I will back your words in the Meeting of Chieftains so long as they are the ones we discussed.

Firrelle allowed after a moment, and Akrisa nodded tightly. However, amid the Chieftains and their [Chief Shamans] and occasionally seconds like Feshi, it was clear Firrelle and her [Chief Shaman] were reluctant to back the Doombringer plot.

Krshia and Akrisa would have left it there to avoid offending Ekhtouch, but a finger reached out and poked Firrelle in the arm.

And Mri, Firrelle? Let me hear you say it.

Torishi looked at Firrelle. The Ekhtouchs [Chieftain] scowled at her.

I have yet to make up my mind. There is evidence

She is no monster to be burned. Say it, or you and I will discuss this in less than amiable words.

Weatherfurs Chieftain looked dangerous, and Akrisa saw Feshi grab the dagger at her side. The Diamond Dagger of Serept. Ekhtouchs [Chief Shaman] looked warningly at Feshi, and Firrelle bared her teeth, completely unafraid of the threat. Torishi was a mighty woman, but Firrelle was Ekhtouch and, while lighter than Torishi by a bit, they were of a height.

I will not be threatened by you, Torishi, or anyone. There is evidence that Mrsha is noevil thing, but cursed? My [Shamans] have been looking into the issue, quietly. But I will not be hasty or

Well help Mrsha.

The Chieftains frowned at Firrelle. Firrelle frowned. She opened her mouth and spoke.

I will help Mrsha.

It was her voicebut it didnt sound right. Also, Firrelles open mouth didnt open and close. The trick was very good, and if they were distracted and Firrelle tired, you could almost believe it was her voice. However, Gire could throw her voice and imitate Firrellebut not make her open and close her mouth.

Gire! How did you get?

The [Paragon] had infiltrated Akrisas tent somehow, slipping inside past the [Guards]. She must have copied some kind of [Rogue]s Skill. She rose calmly.

You will help her, Firrelle.

You do not give me orders. Go to your rooms, Gireulashia.

Firrelle turned red under her fur as the [Paragon] folded her arms at her She loomed over Firrelle. Like the best loomers over the world, she could loom while standing still, loom horizontally, and even speak in loom.

We will help Mrsha. Or I will be angry, Firrelle. I am on her side, so you will be. You will help her. Or else.

Or else what?

Firrelle might not have been Gires mother, but she had a part in raising her, and, like any good parent, she had the warning tone down. Unfortunately, unlike Akrisa, she had not realized Gire had entered a new stage of her adolescence.

Rebellion. Akrisa watched as Gire calmly raised a paw.

Or else I will hit you, Firrelle. And if you do not listen, I will drag you out in front of Ekhtouchs tribe and challenge you with one paw tied behind my back.

You are insolent

Firrelle growled, then looked up at Gire, who had three feet on her, probably at least a hundredtwo hundred pounds? And the Ekhtouch Chieftain realized that Gire could probably pull her out in front of her tribe and punch her until she fell over. With one paw tied behind her back.

It was an amazing, dawning realization on her face. As a mother, Akrisa hoped it wouldnt happen to her.

At the same timeshe looked at Gire and wondered who could take her in hand if the young [Paragon] didnt want them to. Torishi didnt seem to mind.

Firrelle?

Ifine. Present Earth to them!

And?

Gire reached out and caught Firrelle as she went for the door. The Ekhtouch Chieftain tried to get away. She was fastbut Gire lifted her off her feet and shook her. It was so fast a dizzy Firrelle was yanked back before Akrisa could blink.

Get off

Gire shook Firrelle. Akrisa had never seen someone shake someone like a child shook a figurine. It disturbed her because it was unnerving. It lookedpainful. Firrelle made a sound. Gire put her down. The Ekhtouch Chieftain stood there, looking at Gire with such a mix of anger and shockand sudden uneaseshe spoke curtly.

I promise. I will stand for speaking against hunting Doombringers.

Firrelle muttered, and the Chieftains eyed Gire. The [Paragon] nodded once and walked out of the tent. Firrelle followed Gires back with an ominous look, but she said nothing.

Either wayTorishi met Akrisas eyes, and the Chieftain exhaled.

Either way. It was time to go to the heart of it all. She had her alliance.

We must stand together on the issues of the stolen magic and all to come, or we will perish. Tradition. Tradition and unity. If nothing else, Ulcreziek, I fear we will all perish.

Yes, Chieftain Xherw.

The [Shaman], Ulcreziek of the Plains Eye tribe, frowned as he turned to Xherw. The Chieftain of the largest Gnoll tribe in the entire world lookedstressed. Small wonder, with all the unwelcome revelations.

All the danger.

We must resist anyincorrect decisions. Most of all, we must avoid any unwelcome truths coming out.

That was all Xherw said, even between the two. Ulcreziek nodded.

That is a separate matter from the Meeting of Chieftains, surely. Any investigation will not matter for political support as much as if any evidence is uncovered. And short of the Walled Citiesall they have are allegations. There is no proof.

Yes

Xherw stretched out the word. He shifted, shook his head.

Yes. You are correct, Ulcreziek, but there is also Earth, and Silverfang is poised to lead the arguments along with the other Great Tribes. I think Akrisa is a reasonable Gnoll, but I fear making a mistake in that or other things to come. I am simply worried. You are right. However, the easiest thing would be to find that Doombringer. Toreaffirm traditions.

Ulcreziek frowned, then nodded.

Ah. Focus the tribes on that.

What matters. Yes. The Raskgharor doom. I feel odd, Ulcreziek. Almost as if Merishs hunt was in vain in more ways than one.

He did his best by all accounts, though the Lizardman caused trouble. Will you hold it against him?

Xherw shook his head.

He is a brave, talented warrior. Why would I? Ulcre, no. I almost feel

He frowned and tasted the air, sniffing it. The Plains Eye [Shaman], with his one regular eye, the other he had inherited from the previous [Chief Shaman], looked at Xherw. Then the shadow he castthe shadow in the air, the invisible presence Gnolls felt. Ulcreziek could see it.

Xherw spoke slowly, weighing each word.

I feel as though one of them is in the Meeting of Tribes. And I did not feel so a while ago.

The [Chief Shaman] looked at him sharply.

That would explain a lot.

Misfortune? All of this? It would, Ulcreziek. It would be just what we need. Post watchers. Look aroundcarefully.

Xherw touched Ulcres shoulder and turned.

I will look myself, Chieftain Xherw, as long as I can take time from the Meeting of Tribes.

Split your time. And put our watchers out. Though, if it is that child orthey are so good at hiding. But I have a theory.

Xherws eyes glittered.

I think I know who it might be. But I will make sure.

How? Magic? My eyes?

The Chieftain of the Plains Eye tribe shrugged. He began walking in a pointed direction.

These things are too overt and would make them flee, especially if they know us, Ulcreziek. We have a talented way of finding things out. I will ask him.

Him? Whothe Chief Shaman realized who Xherw was speaking of and rolled his eyes. In Plains Eye, the most traditional of tribes, they just had to spontaneously create the one Gnoll who had a class and mentality completely opposite of them.

Yelroan posed in front of the mirror and adjusted his signature look. To attract attention, of course, and inspire a new generation into believing the future was math. He tried striking another pose and adjusted his carefully-designed sunglasses so a ray of light blinded everything in a thirty-foot radius.

Math. Arithmetic. Algebra. Statistics. Calculations. Geometryoh, hello, Chieftain. Did you need something?

Chieftain Xherw of the Plains Eye tribe was not a tall Gnoll, but he had a weight upon the world, and he was one of the most famous Gnolls in existence. Being around him was electrifying, and he never went most places without his bodyguard. He was a seasoned warrior, a great leaderand he rubbed at his forehead as if Yelroan were more styming than fighting one of the Centenium, which he had done.

Yelroan. That isMathematician Yelroan.

He used Yelroans title with a slight wince. He tried, unlike Ulcre and many others in Plains Eye, who patently hated the blonde Gnoll who dressed snappily and showily and did, to them, silly and stupid things in a worthless class.

That was why Yelroan liked Xherw. He tried. So Yelroan swept some papers to the side and offered him some cold tea.

What can I do for you, Chieftain? Did you hear about the attempt on my life? Some issue come up with a tribe that needs accounting? Merish? Did he find the Doombringer? Ive lost the trail, but I can try to find more data points

He worried for his friend. Honestly, statistics wasnt his strongest suit, nor analysis-based models. Naturally, Xherw thought it was all one thing, if he even understood how math applied to such things to begin with.

Math was so complex and deep, yet people thought that all you could do with it was figure out how to supply an army. That was logistics, which, yes, had calculations, but was as much to do with knowing how much someone ate or terrain and whatnot as actual math.

Get a [Secretary of War] or [Strategist] for that! Sometimes it hurt Yelroan, feeling like a glorified [Accountant]. But then he saw how Xherw prized him, and how he showed up [Mages] and [Chieftains] and all those other classes with applied mathematics.

And he felt better about himself. Mathematics was deeper than that. It was a way of looking at the world. An entire perspective that you could seeeverything through. Just like how a pair of spectacles brought things into focus, math was the lens by which Yelroan understood everything.

No one, especially Plains Eye, should look down on a new way of seeing the world. That was why he loved his craft, the numbers that could make sense of vast concepts with ease.

That was math. Yelroan really thought he should figure out how to explain it like that, but he had less of a way with words.

No, Yelroan. I came to ask you to investigate something with yourmath-Skills. I do not know if you can, but I suspect you can, and it will be a great service to the tribe. I hold you in high confidence anddid you say attempt on your life?

Xherw must have been stressed. He normally caught things like that right away. He stiffened and looked around Yelroans organized tent.

Maps, data sheets, cabinets of holdingmany cabinets of holdingand all kinds of tools that Yelroan used, from an abacus to sheets to plot data and more. Xherw glanced up and whistled softly.

Instantly, one of his [Bodyguards] appeared right behind Xherw, an axe raised. Yelroan saw the magical paint glowing, shedding the [Invisibility] spell. He knew Xherws bodyguards did that, but still slopped his tea all over himself.

What issue, Chieftain?

Is there anyone nearby? Do a sweep.

The [Shamanic Warrior] nodded. Yelroan clarified as Xherw looked at him.

I dont know if it was an assassination attempt. I just think my life might be under threat. Or maybe its a prank?

Why would this be? Did youanger someone agat all?

Yelroan coughed.

Not that I can remember. But someone did break into my tent. I checked, but I dont think they stole anything. They might have copied data down, but if they did, why would they tell me?

And who would use it?

Xherw mused. Yelroan raised his brows.

Chieftain, I have all the income, supply reports, even classes of all of Plains Eye and our allies written down.

Ah. That is concerning. But you say you dont think it was that?

Yelroan rubbed at one ear.

No, Chieftain. If that were so, Id never know about itand I would like some bodyguards because I do have precious data. I know the other sub-[Chieftains] wouldnt think of it like that

You will have whatever you need, Yelroan. I understand. Tell me what was so odd.

That was Xherw. He listened. Yelroan got up. He walked over to one of the chalkboards, flipped it over, and Xherw blinked. Yelroan pointed to it.

See?

Xherw looked at the big word written in chalk across the board. Yelroan had circled it, added question marks, but the original writing was clear. One word:

Sin.

Have you done anything to upset anyone, Yelroan? Beyond your usual antics? Slept with anyone? Injured someone, by chance?

Yelroan threw up his paws.

Honestly, Chieftain! I havent! I swear! It doesnt even make sense. But look

He pointed. Xherw frowned. He sawnumbers after the word.

I assume you wrote them.

Ah, you would normally be correct, Chieftain! Except I didnt. Not this time.

There was an odd set of numbers that made no sense to Xherw. If he read the entire thing and assumed it came from the mysterious intruder, it read

Sin. 5

= (-) 0.95892427466

What does that mean?

Yelroans eyes glinted excitedly behind his tinted sunglasses.

I have no idea, Chieftain. But it might bea puzzle? Lookthere are more, and I think theyre examples.

He pointed to another number, which corresponded to another random series of smaller numbers. Xherws eyes began to cross just trying to figure it out. He understood the decimal point, percentages, and even exponents, something from advanced math that Yelroan had studied, but there he had to stop.

The question was, who would break in, leave a random math problem for a [Mathematician], and leave?

The answer was, of course, a [Paragon] who didnt know what it meant either. However, neither Gnoll knew that. Yelroan rubbed at his chin, and Xherw shook his head.

The last one was around four hundred years ago. A great library that had existed long before that. It burned one day. Burnedand I dont need to tell you any [Librarian], [Shaman], or [Architect] would invest in magical spells against fire. But it was destroyed, and the tribes hunted for whoever had done it. They never found out, and Drakes were blamed since that is a safe bet. However, when you tell me these thingsI wonder.

Satar frowned and felt a tinge of unease creeping up her spine.

It could be a coincidence.

Perhaps. But I know Doombringers were not alwaysso vilified.

Mrsha, Gire, and Satar looked up as Theikha hunted around for cookies in her basket.

Wh-what do you mean, Shaman Theikha?

The Shaman glanced up, and Satar felt like she was the one being interrogated. Theikha looked calmly at the three children and spoke.

Only that I am so old that I recall, very vaguely, my oldest mentorsthat would be someone who was as old as I was when I was as young as Mridisputing some of the tales about Doombringers. I dont even recall the conversation, but I feel as though I remember it. Thats the trouble. I feel, as you now come to me, that Doombringers might have more of a story behind them. But I have never fought to know more. Frankly, they are rare, and I do know for a fact that trouble tends to follow them.

Mrsha looked urgently at Gireulashia, who tried to clarify.

But are they evil and cursed like the stories say?

Plains Eye certainly believes it. I know what you will say, Honored Gire, and the truth is I havent thought of them for a long time. For twenty years, I was consumed with fighting Antinium and rebuilding after the destruction they wroughtand the Goblin King. Before that? Zelkyr was striding about with his Golem armies, telling us to do this, do that. That was still before my timeIm not old enough to remember more than when he died and a bit before that.

Wouldnt that put her at over a hundred and? Gire silently did the math. Theikha threw a cookie at her to distract her.

Stop uncovering my age. Uncover the truth instead, you silly child! Zelkyr marched about with his Golem armies, and the Walled Cities still had them when he died. Such fighting.

So its not just this era that has a lot of wars. Even without the Antinium.

Satar murmured as Mrsha reached for a cookie, and her paw was slapped down. Theikha looked sad.

No, Satar. But perhaps we can make tomorrow better. Everyone is abuzz aboutwell, you will learn soon enough.

Mrshas ears perked up. Earth? But they werent supposed to know, and the [Shaman] did not elaborate if that was what she was referring to. She sat with a sigh.

The truth is that we lost our history. Yes, Chieftain Serunial took her people into the sky, or so it is said. But we have no proof, so even Garuda laugh at usas if they could fly that high! We went to Chandrar and Baleros, Rhir and Terandria, but we lost our histories, and Gnolls dont write books as often as we should. So we can only claim it.

She looked sad and weary.

If there were any records of Doombringers, it would be from those Gnolls, but they are long gone, Satar. Here? I will tell you my version, but it is the same as Weatherfurs. I wish

The [Shaman] looked at them, then around the room.

I wish I could take you back and tell you all the stories as they were written. But I have forgotten, and even Skills cannot stop time and age. I wish you luck on your search, but I must prepare for tomorrow. Please, forgive me.

And there they had to leave it. Satar rose and kissed Theikhas cheek. Theikha pinched Mrshas ear gently as the Gnoll tried to swipe a last cookie, and bid them farewell. The three quietly left her tent. They felt enlightened, grateful to have talked to Theikha and hear her stories andlost.

What did they do next? Not one had any idea.

Here they sat, by nightfall. Mrsha, Gire, Satar, staring down at her journal, Yelroan, Rose, arguing with Adetr and Feshi.

Uh

Everyone had looked at Yelroan. The [Mathematician] had come and sat down with them without a word, and no one had told him to shove off.

Feshi was here because she was trying to wrap her head around Earth and wanted to talk to Rose. Rose was here to shout at Adetr.

Why did you have to say it like that? Why do you have to talk about Earths weapons? Were not all warmongers!

He growled back.

I told you. I saw them. I saw them shoot me through the eyes, Roseand then I didnt see anything after that!

You saw a projection! It wasnt even real people! Do you think wed just gun you down the instant we saw you?

Why not? You told me you love making movies about killing species you havent even met!

Most of them attack us!

You make the movies!

The screaming match in the background made Mrsha shift slightly. She looked at Yelroan, hesitated, and poked his side. He jumped, nearly leapt into one of the campfires they were sitting around, and stuttered.

Deryes?

He stared at Mrsha like she was a monster. She eyed him, then pointed.

Can Mri try on your sunglasses, Mister Yelroan?

Gire knew who he was. The Gnoll hesitated, then handed them to Mrsha. She put them on and then began to do poses. I am so cool! This is the best pair of sunglasses ever!

The [Mathematician] looked at the girl laughing and doing poses that made Satar giggle with such an expression of pain that he had to turn away. He focused on the screaming match instead.

Youre so unreasonable!

Rose hollered. Adetr shouted, his nerves breaking at last.

Well, I cannot help it! Im afraid of you!

Rose stopped. The young woman from California stared up at the Gnoll who had a head and a half on her, and probably three hundred pounds with his steel body. She spoke, surprisingly calmly.

Adetr. Youre a huge, metal Gnoll. You scare me.

He looked her in her eyes.

Your people could kill us all. It would be easy.

Yelroan turned to frown at Adetr, and the two looked at him guiltily, but the [Mathematician] waved a paw.

I know aboutit. Does everyone else?

They all nodded. Yelroan had been summoned to Xherw and Ulcre with the other leaders to explain what eight billion was in context of their tribes. Horrifyingly huge numbers that appeared from adding a few digits onto the end of the last.

I just wish we had stories. I want to tell stories, but whats the use if everything I write will disappear?

Satar whispered, and Adetr, Rose, Mrsha, Gire, and Yelroan looked at her. Satar rubbed at one eye.

We were everywhereand theres not one book? Not one? Someone burned it all? We explored Baleros! We climbed mountains and fought with other species. Andall we have are Retellings. And theyre wrong.

She thumped the journal and Yelroan eyed it. Mrsha looked at Satar and patted her on the knee. She handed her a note.

Forsooth, it will be alright, child.

Satar glared at Mrsha. Why did a child have better writing than she did? She started sniffing hard. At first, all of the other Gnolls thought she had smelled something. Then they realized Satar was trying hard not to cry.

Adetr patently didnt know what to do, so he looked at Rose to do something.

There, thereMri, dont bully Satar.

She isnt bullying me!

As if to prove Mrshas subtle bullying, Satar teared up harder. And not for reasons she could explain. It wasnt just Doombringers somehowshe knewbeing misrepresented in stories.

It was the dearth of stories that bothered her. Libraries. A kingdom. She hadnt even known what the kingdoms name was. Why didnt Theikha and the others tell the story? When she asked, the [Shaman] had looked abashed.

Theikha, the oldest [Shaman] ever. Not a mere [Chief Shaman], but a [Shaman of Tribe and Plain], a class that only one Gnoll got. The great [Shaman], who would one day pass and leave less stories and memory of the world, looked embarrassed.

I suppose, we are ashamed to try and tell the stories we no longer have, young Satar. To tell a story incomplete? We have our pride. We lost the right to tell it.

Even things written down vanished. Satar kept sniffing, but she didnt really cry. The others busied themselves by doing other things.

Youre the intruder who wrote sin on my chalkboard?

Yelroan exclaimed as Gire asked if hed figured out how it worked. She promptly produced Inkars smartphone, and they bent over it as Yelroans mind tried to explode. This was it. This was

He looked to Mrsha. Rose was sitting with Adetr, trying again to explain her world to him, and he was shaking his head, trying to see something besides blood and death.

Feshi Weatherfur watched Mrsha too. That sad little girl. So did Satar. She saw Mrsha bend down over a [Message] scroll, one of the more expensive ones, not a one-use one. Ink appeared and vanished, and the little Gnoll pulled something else shed bought out of her bag of holding.

Satar closed her eyes. She lay back as a faint, click, click, followed by the familiar scritching of a quill made her small tantrum fade. She closed her eyes and drifted off, mind wearied by an entire day of listening to [Shaman] stories.

If only I could read their stories. Then Id know how to tell stories about my people. I just

There was a reason why she wrote a history. Not fanciful stories about people loving each other like Heartslayi or even great adventures like Sandquen. More than thatand that mattered to Satar

She wanted to know they had happened. That they were

True.

[Archival Storyteller Level 25!]

[Skill Seal of Veracity obtained!]

With a yelp, Satar sat up. Shed been asleep for twenty minutes, but as soon as her thoughts reached that Skill, she woke. Mrsha jumped, and Gire, beating Adetr in an arm-wrestling competition, looked up.

I leveled up!

Satar smiled. With wondrous happiness. Two levels for her hard work?

What is it? A new Skill about the past?

Gire was excited, but Satar knew it wasnt that. Unfortunately, this was no new Skill the likes of which no one had ever heard of, whose meaning was to be learnt.

Its[Seal of Veracity].

The [Paragon] looked at Satar and then rolled over.

Oh. [Historian] Skills.

Which was unfair, because [Contract Makers], [Notaries], people who inspected magical goods and documents, and so on, all had this Skill. It was the kind of thing Satar wanted.

She could put that on her writings and reassure her reader that the following was correct. Mind you, it had caveats; it could be correct as she understood it, but factually wrong, and so on, but it was still a seal.

Seal? So cool! Can you show me?

Mrsha danced about excitedly, looking away from her [Message] scroll and penpal. Obligingly, Satar reached out and drewa magical stamp out of the air. Mrsha went cross eyed, and Satar pressed it into Mrshas forehead.

The magical stamper glowed and vanished, leaving a little, glowing stamp on Mrshas forehead.

Oh! So pretty!

Rose marveled. Because the stamp, the little symbol written therein, which looked like a book and quill as Satar would have preferred it, feltlike truth. Now, if only you could shake it from the aether and find what was lost.

Alas. Mrsha went cross-eyed trying to see it.

It lasts as long as its true, Mri. I think it changes color if its less true. Go on! Try it!

Mrsha frowned. Then she wrote, carefully, and held up a notecard for all to see.

I am always a good girl.

Instantly, the seal glowing a gentle green-blue, and even slightly changing to hues of yellow or purpleturned red, burst into flames, and fell off Mrshas forehead. The girl stared down at it.

Well, its good for a job. You know, you could make some decent money just applying that once every day.

Yelroan chuckled. Mrsha looked at Satar and handed her a note.

Your Skill doesnt work. Stupid.

Then she went back to her [Message] scroll.

Veracity isnt like a simple truth stone. Itsoh, fine.

Satar stuck out her tongue at Mrshas back. She sat up, feeling a tiny bit betterbut still upset over the entire lack of stories thing. Mrsha glanced up at Satar, remembering how sad the [Shaman] had been. She kept scribbling and that click-click continued.

Feshi came back; she had apparently gone out to the bathroom or something.

Theyre passing out food. Anyone want to eat at Weatherfurs camp? Were eating some fresh salmon someone brought. Even a tuna from deep at sea. Big. Gire couldnt finish all of it herself. Anyone interested?

Gire shot up.

Me, me! Ill go!

The others murmured agreement, and Feshi assured them they wouldnt be disturbing anyone, and it wouldnt be for another twenty minutes. Yelroan looked down.

Its an equation. Sin, cos, tanI can almost

His eyes were glittering, but he kept glancing at Mrsha. Caught between delight and

The little Gnoll glared down and slapped something. The clack made Feshi, Satar, and even Rose and Adetr look up. Mrsha rolled over and whined in the back of her throatthen raised a notecard.

Feshi! Help me, please! Beat this stinky person up!

She wanted Feshi to help her? WithSatar looked over and saw what Mrsha was doing at last. She was writing on the [Message] scroll to her penpal. And

Playing chess.

Feshis ears perked up instantly, and she crouched down.

What is this, Mri? Wait a second

Everyone else crowded around, except Gire, who read the scroll upside-down. They all blinked down. Mrsha folded her arms.

She and her penpal had been corresponding. IncidentallySatar had heard Krshia had been involved in some kind of amazing conversation via Wistram the other day, but she hadnt known what. Now? She looked down and saw a conversation.

Fetohep of Khelt: Good evening, Mri. Would you kindly desist sending [Messages] to my palace?

Mri: But were penpals! Can I have a throne? Or a crown? Or jewels?

Fetohep of Khelt: No. You are a child.

Mri: You thought I was intelligent!

Fetohep of Khelt: Age is but a concept, yet a child remains a child.

Mri: Ur a bully. I hate you.

Fetohep of Khelt: Insolence is unwise. I am Fetohep of Khelt. A ruler of Eternal Khelt. Do you think it is wise, even for a child, to taunt me?

Mri: Im sorry. But youll forgive me! Because Im cute :)

Fetohep of Khelt: I cannot behold any appearance of yours, Mri.

Mri: What do I do!? Everyone is nice to me! I am very cute and cuddly, Fetohep! Forsooth! No child hath more delightful appearance than mine own!

Fetohep of Khelt: You are a precocious child.

Mri: Please help Erin.

Fetohep of Khelt: I am in the process of doing so. There arecomplications, however.

Mri: You should help Erin. She could teach you chess. Do you like chess?

Fetohep of Khelt: I am exceptionally adept in the game.

Mri: Erins better, you know. Shes so good no one can beat her. Im one of her pupils. I bet I could whoop you like a backwards salmon being smacked on steps!

Fetohep of Khelt: That is a preposterous statement.

Mri: Nuh uh.

Fetohep of Khelt: Indeed? Then, I shall move Pawn to E4.

Mri: What are you doing?

Fetohep of Khelt: Playing chess. Or can you not visualize the game?

Mri: I can! Give me a minute!

It appeared the smack talk and conversation had taken place over the last few days, and the chess game had been carefully recreated on the board Mrsha was using, with Fetoheps pieces on hers.

Ohand this wasnt the original game. This was game #8. The score was 7-0 so far, and if you understood how often you tied in games of chess

Feshi looked at the winner of all zero games.

You want me to beat him?

Mrsha nodded rapidly. Feshi folded her arms.

No. For one thing, he gave me the dagger. For anotherthats cheating.

But I have to beat him! Just once! Please? Its too hard! Hes cheating by being too good!

It reminded Satar of Cers, actually. Mrsha, for all she could write like a jaded [Lady] of Terandria sipping wine while staring out an ivory tower in the twilight of Terandriacould also be a little child.

Feshi refused. Mrsha slapped the chessboardthen her face fell. She scrambled to redo the pieces and then started cryingor fake-crying.

Its not fair! Its too hard! I cant do it in my head! The pieces are stupid! Youre all mean! Im cute! Be nicer to me!

She rolled around on the ground, and Feshi sighed. Gire calmly put the chess pieces back and nudged a bishop.

Move that into check?

Mrsha instantly sat up, and Feshi looked at Gire.

Gireulashia, you shouldnt help her. Mri needs to either learn the game or admit defeat. She wont grow or level from cheating. Except as a [Slacker].

A what now? Mrsha the Sloth sat up and contemplated her new career path. Feshi tried to show Mrsha what she was doing wrong.

Youre starting a new game, and you have all your pieces. It looks like you dont really know how knights work, do you?

L-shapes?

Mrsha was, in fact, Erin Solstices worst student, and that included Toren. She hadnt paid attention when Erin taught her, andwell, she didnt even really understand how Fetohep kept checking her behind her own lines.

That was because she created a wall of Pawns and expected them to hold the line, like the actual Pawn would with [Holy Barrier]. Feshi, Gire, and even Rose tried to explain, but Mrsha held her head in her paws.

Its too hard! Too many moves! Too many ways!

Fetohep had one of her knights in distress, and she kept nearly moving it into an early-demise. She understood how the knight moved, but the endless loop of possibilities and moves from each individual piece?

There was a reason why, even if a computer could do it better, people liked this game. Even Apista could beat Mrsha. Even a bee.

Feshi looked sympathetically at Mrsha, but then she snapped her furry fingers together. Which was a lot harder than when a Human did it.

I know! Mri, I wont help you cheatbut what if I help you play? Hmm? Sit down.

Mrsha plomped her butt down, and Feshi waved a paw over the gameboard. Satar, watching, who was also bad at chess and, she feared privately, worse than Mrsha, saw Feshi speak.

[Visualize Outcomes]. There. Hows that?

Mrshas eyes went round. Satar, looking down, gasped. She saw Mrsha pick up the endangered knight pieceand saw a bunch of little squares light up on the board.

In L-shapes, just like where it was legally allowed to move. Mrsha looked around and saw all the spots the knight could move.

Oh! Like a chess program! Thats genius, Feshi!

Rose clapped her hand in delight. Adetr muttered in her ear.

Yet another thing Humans can do that we need a Skill for.

She slapped his arm and winced as her hand met metal. However, thanks to Feshis Skill, Mrsha could now see each pieces threat zone and how they moved when she picked it up. She found a safe spot at last and smugly wrote in her move to Fetohep. Two seconds later, he checked her.

Feshi watched Mrsha throw a tantrum. In truth, that Skills application in chess had recently been discovered. It was more useful for a [Strategist] to see how a group might try to execute a maneuver and realize the terrain was too rocky, the shallows too deep in actuality to wade, etcetera.

Not a bad Skill. You do visualization Skills too?

Yelroan interrupted. Feshi turned to him.

I do. Just that. Do you, Mathematician Yelroan?

He smiled and adjusted his sunglasses, but modestly.

I do. Take a look. Let me just find something likehow about all your ages? And then I[Visualize Data Set].

He did a quick scribble with their names, and ages, and then used his Skill. Instantly, the piece of paper turned into a little, floating graph. A crude drawing of Mrsha and her name shot up only a tiny bit with her age represented. Next, Gire. ThenAdetr?

Youre younger than me?

The Gnoll exclaimed as his bar came to rest just below Satar and above Rose. Feshi was next, then Yelroan. Mrsha looked up from angrily scribbling with Fetohep.

See? Look how many times older I am. Seeing data is very useful to me. Im amazed [Strategists] dont all have the Skill.

Mrsha handed Yelroan a card. He flipped it over and read two words.

Youre old.

Adetr looked at Feshi and Yelroan and cleared his throat.

I have a Skill too. Only, I see battle in its entirety.

And a fat lot of good that does.

Rose muttered. Feshi raised her brows.

Ive heard of [Battle Seekers], but not that you can visualize it. Can I ask how it works? Do fights shape up the way you see them?

Adetr shook his head.

Almost never. But some things I can learneven enemy Skills or gear they carry. Its notprecise. It is for a warrior to train their spirit, to learn how to defeat their foes. But I do not learn enough, not like a [Strategist] would want. My tribes [Strategists] gave up long ago on asking me to find out information. Part of it is simplyto sate my hunger.

He looked embarrassed at the admission. Rose peered at him.

Really. But thats so powerful!

Hrr. Yes, wellit was my Level 20 capstone Skill.

Rose and Adetr looked at each other, and the Gnoll bowed his head.

Im sorry. Im only trying to protect my people.

Not from me.

He hesitated.

No. Not from you, Rose.

The good mood in the group broke upon Adetr and Roses quarrel like waves on a beach. Both looked guilty and broke off their arguments, but it was true. This had been a pleasant distraction from the greater issue of Earth, but Feshi could not let go of Adetrs fear either.

Feshi longed to believe Rose when she assured them Earth had enough good to balance out the bad, but she had a vision of a metal flying-thing dropping weaponseven stonesfrom a mile up. And Humans had a population of eight billion. Even if most were non-combatants? Even if they were armed with rocks

They could outproduce us. They could take over our lands. We cant let them reach our world. We need to be careful, to learn what theyre doing. We needto tell the Professor?

She had been having nightmares of Humans flying through the sky. Feshi suddenly realized where Eldavin had gotten his new armor idea from. More danger.

Satar saw Feshis face grow troubled and looked at this strange group, from Gire to Mrsha, Rose, Adetr, Feshi, and Yelroan. They were nice people. They had all come together to help one another, and they had done their best. But Satar had tried to find out the truth in stories for Doombringersand failed.

They really had lost so much. Mrshas ears drooped, and Satar saw her listening to Rose and Adetr arguing.

Satar remembered what she herself had said in the Retelling.

We were here.

We were there. Butno one could prove it. Kingdoms vanished. They lost their library. Mrsha sighed. Satar wiped at her eyes and sniffed again. Everyone avoided looking at her. Rose and Adetr argued again.

Mrsha looked down as Gire gulped down a snack, Yelroan fidgeted with his sunglasses, and Feshi headed over to see if dinner was ready yet.

Satars crying was perfectly understandable, given how hard shed tried, only to be foiled by time and malice. She was a [Detective] with no leads, only questions, and it frustrated her to tears.

She had not found her answer in the Doombringer stories, only noticed the absence. She would keep trying, but her Skill had not miraculously solved all problems. If that were so, Gnolls would never want for anything.

Yet there was more to miracles than just luck. Even a Doombringer knew that. So while Satar had cried, Mrsha had been thinking big.

Mrsha could not predict when a bishop would swan into enemy lines and hold a king-piece hostage. But she had learned something from Erin Solstice, the master herself.

And that was that other people could do things for you. Mrsha, the [Slacker]-in-trainingwhich pretty much meant shed never get the class because she kept trying to work for ithad made a little plan. And the thing about little plans? When you handed them to giants or geniuses, they always turned them into big plans.

Mrsha the Delegator quietly wrote onto her [Message] scroll as Gire watched her out of the corner of one big eye. The [Paragon] winked at Mrsha, but Satar never noticed.

Mri the Magnificent Mind: Old guy. Old guy, I have a biiig favor to ask. Will you help me? Pwease?

Fetohep of Khelt: If you address me in such an obnoxious fashion again, child, I will be forced to hire an [Assassin] to burn your [Message] scroll. There is such a thing as etiquette.

Mri: In that case, umforsooth

Fetohep of Khelt: I will post the bounty at 1,000 gold coins within the hour.

Mri du Marquin: Your Gracious Eminence, I humbly beg your forgiveness for my misconduct. It is unbecoming for a young lady, and I can only apologize that I have taken leave of my senses. It would not only honor my house, but do justice to the endless bounty of Khelts munificence if you would consent to heed my petition.

Fetohep of Khelt: Who taught you to write like this? Truly.

Mri: My mother.

Fetohep of Khelt: Ah. I do not employ any such individuals in my palace permanently, as I have not needed to address foreign powers substantively these last five hundred years. Someone of her talents would be useful. Would she be interested in a position in my Mages Guild?

Mri: Nope. Can I tell you my big idea now? Its smart!

Fetohep of Khelt: You may.

She outlined it in great detail and waited for him to agree. However, Fetoheps response was succinct.

Fetohep of Khelt: I will not do this for you, Mri.

Mri: What? Why? Stinky! Rude! Its so nice! Youd be on television! And you have lots of old things! Youd love it!

Fetohep of Khelt: Be that as it may, I am not a Djinni. I do not grant wishes, nor am I interested in guiding any among the living outside of my kingdom. This is a matter that goes to the heart of Gnollkind.

Mri: Yes. So are you not friends with Gnolls? Thats racist. Youre racist.

Fetohep of Khelt: I am not. Mri, you misunderstand my point. What you suggest is intelligent, original, and has a chance of success even the most precocious of children would envy for such a scheme. However, I will not do it simply because it is righteous. Even if it is easy for me.

Mrshas brow wrinkled up. She sat there as Fetohep wrote on.

Fetohep of Khelt: This is a Gnoll issue. Gnolls must overcome their own trials. You are a Gnoll. You may petition me as a penpal, to act in some small way. But the whole of it? I leave that to you.

Mri: Me? By myself?

Fetohep of Khelt: Yes.

Mri: But Im a child.

Fetohep of Khelt: You will always be one until the day you decide not to act as one. It need not be you alone. Think. When you have a request I will agree to, I will heed your words.

Then he left her alone. Mrsha punched the [Message] scroll, hurting her paw, and rolled around, crying silently.

Fetohep was a jerk after all! The biggest jerk, who was stingy because he could do things and didnt! She saw Satar look at her as Gire exhaled.

Thats too bad, Mri.

What?

Satar was done crying and looked exceptionally embarrassed to have done it in front of everyone. Yelroan, Adetr, and Rose saw Mrsha waving her [Message] scroll to show the others.

Look at my brilliant idea! It would work! But he didnt want to do anything.

Satar blinked down at Mrshas plan. Her eyes widened.

Mri? Thats brilliant! Of course there would beoh. He wont do it?

Crestfallen, the [Storyteller] read Fetoheps replies. Howeveras Mrsha threw a tantrum, she saw what the undead king meant. It made her fur rise slightly.

Gnolls must overcome their own trials.

That spoke to her. Mrsha didnt understand, perhaps because she was so used to a certain Human solving peoples issues. FetohepKing Fetohep of Khelt understood something about pride.

It might not be the same, but I could at leastask.

Satars mumble caught Mrshas attention. The girl looked up as Gire picked up her little friend.

Ask who? Fetohep of Khelt is the most influential person I know too. How do you know him again, Mri?

The Gnoll shook her head mutely. It was a long story. Satar didnt know any [Kings] herself, but

I dont have to ask a foreign [King]. What if Iwrote to someone? Like a [Librarian]. Orwell, it doesnt hurt to ask, does it? All it takes is a few silver at most, and you can send a [Message] to anyone in the world.

The problem was most people wouldnt answer it. It couldnt hurt to ask, though. Mrshas ears perked up.

Who could I ask, though? Umumis there a [Librarian] in theuha nation in Terandria? What would that be?

Desonis? I know Earl Altestiel too!

How do younevermind. What if you wrote a letter to him?

Mrsha scratched at her head. That sounded like work! Gire gently pulled at one of Mrshas ears.

Its not that much work, milady du etiquette, is it? And you know how to be fancy.

My paw hurts when I write too much. And it gets inky.

Mrsha sulked, still in a pet about Fetohep. Gire tossed her up and down.

What if I wrote for you?

Mrsha the Dictatorno, wait, that sounded badthought about it and brightened up. She nodded eagerly.

Ill help too! I justI dont know an Earl Altestiel. I need a book of current nations. Um. Oh no, I need to find someone who I can [Message]. Not the rulers or leaders, obviously.

Satar felt that frustration of not knowing exactly what to do. Shed have to grab a book, maybe bother a [Mage] who could send [Messages], and the cost!

Mrsha plopped a huge bag of gold on the table. She could send [Messages] all day. However, the contact details?

Yelroans sunglasses blinded Satar.

Exactly how many people did you need to talk to? Because I have a list of contact details for almost every major nation and group. Plus, the Plains Eye tribe knows who to actually talk to if you want a response.

Satar turned to look at him, and Rose waved a hand, mostly because she wanted to be helpful.

I could write to Drassi! And I just bet Joseph could help; he can run down to Pallass library.

Adetr scratched at his head, still confused.

I dont see how this will all help. But I can help you send the [Messages]. Theres a group of [Mages] who do it for coin. Steelfur can reserve a few.

Satar looked at the others and then bent over a piece of parchment.

We could just ask them all. Even if hes not willing to help do it all, Mrsha, can you write back to Fetohep? Be nice!

Mrsha sighed, but with Gire translating her fast sign-language into writing, she began to dictate a [Message], which was a lot of fun. Adetr trotted off to grab a Human [Mage], Rose began scribbling a note to Drassi, and Satar composed her own first letter to a [Librarian] in

Where should I start? Who would have what we want?

She turned to Yelroan, and the [Mathematician] smiled.

You can bother as many people as you want. From experience, I would guess that a rich company or nation has the best shot. Why not the Forgotten Wing Company?

Mrshas ears perked up, but she decided not to interject as Satar stammered.

Thetheyou think theyll respond?

Yelroan shrugged.

Its worth a shot, yes? OhI have a contact for you. [Strategist] Perorn andwait, dont send it to [Chamberlain] Peclir. Not a good move. But send it tolet me grab a file.

He headed off, and Satar began to write. She took her time on the first letter, but she got into the rhythm of it soon enough. Even if only one of the fifty [Messages] she sent got throughthen a hundred

Gire was massaging her paw, but Satar had no cramping, so she wrote on. It was an exciting gambit, like throwing a letter in a bottle into the sea. It was unlikely it would bear fruit, in her mind.

However, she hadnt realized just how astute Fetoheps observation was. Mrsha might have been young, and she certainly lacked for table manners, the ability to dress herself, and she was distressingly bad at math, much to Yelroans chagrin.

But a certain [Princess] had used many, many [Flawless Attempts] to hammer in the very foundation of proper formality in letter-writing.

Arguably worse, she had instilled the very bestworstof Calanferian traditions in Mrshas mind. Gire laughed about it, and Satar didnt read Mrshas letters, so she had no idea the vengeful Gnoll girl wrote her letters along these lines.

Dear Sir or Madam (Gire, write in their name and titles!),

I, Satar Silverfang, would humbly like to request your attention on a certain matter which I have corresponded with His Majesty, Fetohep of Khelt upon, and I believe Drassi of Wistram News Network is also considering a television segment regarding said issue. I would deeply appreciate a letter at soonest convenience, as the Meeting of Tribes is ending, and it behooves me to bring this matter forwards as an issue of highest importance among my people.

It may be that you have an object in your possession that may help my inquiry into the history of the Gnoll peoples. To be precise, I am referring to

Satar felt a flash of hope as she wrote nearly a hundred lettersand she thanked Mrsha, who helped bankroll the entire affair. Adetr, who mainly got paper, convinced the [Mages] to send so many spells and refilled ink pots because his handwriting was atrocious and he couldnt spell. Rose ended up going with Feshiwhod waited for everyone at the Weatherfur camp for nearly an hourto come back with food, and Feshi herself joined in after realizing what they were about.

She felt like she had done something! ThenSatar closed her eyes and realized no level ups were coming. Shed already gotten to Level 25, of course, but shed thought maybe after all that writing?

No. No levels for all her hard work. Mainly because shed been writing letters, not a story.

So she rolled over and tried to sleep, despondent. Why would anyone respond? She was just Satar and

The Gnoll girl went to sleep, in the particular expectation of nothing tomorrow but disappointment and silence. Because she had never seen anything marvelous happen except between the covers of a book. Those were stories.

Throughout the night, an undead king from ages of yore when the dead ruled the living did not sleep. Six hundred years old, a mayfly in immortal years but heir to one of the great kingdoms of Chandrar, Fetohep of Khelt sat upon his throne and considered one thing.

They make much of the blinding ego of Dragons. The arrogance of Drakes. The wrath of gentle men, the enmity of Dullahans. Worst of all, it would appear, is the pettiness of little children.

[Message] after [Message] flashed upon the dozens of scrolls surrounding him, all asking for a polite confirmation that, yes, this [Message] was genuine? Was there a plan to? Would he like to speak with Grand Magus Eldavin now or later? Wistram News Network calling. Was this in relation to?

A little girl did this. One who knew how to name-drop his name into the ears of the high and mighty.

Calanfer. The Kingdom of the Eternal Throne has changed markedly from its original rulers inception.

Fetohep would have had a headache if such luxuries were afforded the undead. He looked at the chess board hed set up with Mrshas last game. Despite all her help, a lone king-piece sat surrounded by his pawns. Fetohep looked at Mrshas personal request to him.

In the darkness, the Revenant smiled. Well enough for a childs effort. He rose and gave the childrens plan a little nudge.

They had done something today. Each of the Gnolls and singular Human could rest easy, even if it might not come to anything, even if that good feeling didnt last. They tried. They made friends. They slept well.

All save for one.

Yelroan.

He didnt sleep. Chieftain Xherw found him with his head in his paws.

Yelroan? Is something amiss?

The [Mathematician] looked up. He spoke carefully, hanging his head.

Icant make sense of it, Chieftain.

About what? Your investigation? Are you done, already?

The [Chieftain] looked sharply at Yelroan and the [Mathematician] nodded. He pushed something across to Xherw and the Gnoll saw a jumble of numbers.

Whats this?

Oh, facts, figures about Qwera. I cant make them add up, Chieftain. Im afraidI cant help you. I keep trying, but I cant create a direct link between her being a Doombringer and

Yelroan shrugged, speaking very carefully. He tapped the paper with the confusing list of numbers. Qweras birth date, income, money earned, locations visited represented as coordinates.

Xherw studied the paper, but briefly. He shook his head, sighing hard.

If you cannot, I believe you.

Ill keep working, Chieftain! I dont want to doubt your intuition, its just as a [Mathematician]

Yelroan trailed off. He gestured at the paper and knew every word he spoke was true. There was no mathematical way to make all the numbers about Qweras life line up into something that spelled Doombringer.

Math wasnt silly. Xherw just smiled.

I can be wrong. It may be shes justlucky. Keep working, but we will need you for this Earth-matter. Thank you, Yelroan.

The Gnoll nodded and sat back down. He stared at the closed tent flaps, then began shaking uncontrollably. But he did it. He

He wondered what Merish, his friend, was doing. Merish was a good Gnoll. A warrior.

Had he tried to kill that little girl? Yelroan sat in the darknessthen he pulled out more lists. More information, since he had insisted they keep such data. Older information too. It was time to begin another investigation. A better one.

He didnt know what hed find, or even what he was looking for beyond the obvious. Onlythat he thought, nowit was there.

The next day, Satar was fast asleep when a Gnoll landed on her. Cers hit Satar, went flying as she yelped and rolled over, and jumped on her again.

Cers! Im going to hurt you! Leave me be!

Satar! Satar! What did you do? What did you do?

Something had riled her younger brother up even more than normal. Satar raised a fist, but then saw how excited he was.

What? Has the Meeting of Chieftains decided something?

Blearily, the Gnoll girl stared at him. The Gnoll cub stopped, looked at her, and a gleeful expression filled his face.

You dont know? Satar! Youre on the scrying orb! Satar, what did you do? Youre in trouble! Cetrules looking for you!

Satar sat up fast, blinking.

What? Dont lie, Cers. Thats a stupid lie.

Am not! Everyones watching! Youre in trouble

He raced out of her tent. Satar looked after him, heart suddenly pounding wildly. Did that have anything to do with? But surely not! They had just been letters! Why the scrying orb? Wait. Wait. Had Rose said she was writing to Drassi?

What did she write?

Satar stumbled out of her tent a second before Cetrule came running to find her. The [Shaman of Purity] was panting. He had something in his paw.

Satar?

She looked at him in confusion and then at the orb he was holding. And she heard her name echoing from it.

Across the Meeting of Tribes, as Gnolls tuned into the scrying orbs for the news and any major events in what was rapidly becoming a habit, the siege of Reim, on its sixth day, was interrupted by a special call in.

Fetohep of Khelt had begun his address and claimed the right to occupy the worlds attention in the following manner.

I am Fetohep of Khelt. I have a moment of import to communicate. You are free to ignore me. At your peril.

He was talking to Drassi and Noass. The [Reporter] and [Commentator] were listening as the Revenant-king spoke.

Yes. Satar Silverfang, I believe. Apenpal of mine of whom I have found myself regularly corresponding brought up the issue. Naturally, it was within my vast purview, and I have taken it upon myself to answer the request in part.

Satar stopped breathing when she heard her name. Cers touched her arm, then jumped as she inhaled.

Gnolls. Gnolls have now come to Chandrar, and that was the cause of the King of Destructions war with Belchan and Jecrass. I listened to your commentary, Noass of Pallass.

It was amazing that Fetohep didnt laugh, and pronounced the Drakes name so seriously. The Drake shifted uneasily.

Er, yes, Your Majesty?

I found it inaccurate. You speak as if Gnolls came to Chandrar for the first time. As if one of their great [Archmages] did not hail from Chandrar itself. This question about Gnolls practicing magic could have been resolved by simply reading a book. Ah, but I am told that such books are passing rare in Izril. I communicated my surprise that the existence of Gnolls across the world was in such doubt. Even Feshi Weatherfur, who bears one of the Diamond Swords of Serept, did not have sufficient proof.

Satar, Satar, what did you do?

Cetrule was shaking her urgently. Satar burst out.

I dont know! I didnt do anything. We just sent letters, but I didnt tell Fetohep to do anything. He refused to help at first! Whys he on the news? It had to beMri!

There was only one person who could even possibly be responsible for this. Cetrule looked around, and the smuggest little girl in the world poked her head out of her tent to look at Satar, confirming Satars suspicions. Mrshas satisfaction lasted only about five seconds until Krshia stormed out of her tent.

MrshMri! You are in big trouble!

Off the little girl ran, helter-skelter, but it was far too late. Fetohep of Khelt was still speaking.

Feshi Weatherfur. I have no doubt you are listening to my address.

She could be asleep.

Noass pointed out reasonably. Drassi elbowed him; annoying Fetohep didnt seem wise. The golden undeads eyes flashed.

Then she will hear my words. Feshi Weatherfur, do you doubt your kinds boast that you came across the world? You are a talented [Strategist]. But you are young. Investigate your possessions. Learn. Hold the dagger above your head. And call for Dorrer of Khelt.

In the Weatherfur camp, all of the Gnolls turned to Feshi. The Gnoll [Strategist] paled. Thenat Fetoheps words, raised the dagger over her head. She spoke.

Dorrer of Khelt?

The dagger flashed. Black diamond opened a portal to somewhere else, and something rose from the ground.

An undead. A servant in undeath, like the Minotaur champion of old. Like the other warriors bound to serve the wielder and Khelt eternal.

Of course, Feshi knew she could summon warriors to fight for her. But she had never thoughtthe Gnoll looked down and stepped back as a figure rose.

Like the others, the mummified corpse was so old it had lost almost all of its fur. It was bone in places. Yet even bones revealed the original form. And this warrior, armored in ancient golden metal and holding a spear and shield?

This was a Gnoll. A Gnoll? A Gnoll had once lived in Khelt? Feshi turned, and Fetohep of Khelt had his servants bring in a tapestry so everyone could see it.

This hangs on the Serept-era hallways, quite appropriately. I had it brought out that I might illustrate my point.

He smiled with modest satisfaction at his joke. Everyone looked at the illustration, and Drassi gasped.

Oh my.

It was one of those classic pictures of overwhelming victory. A half-Giant kingSerept himselfstood, pointing down at his enemies who were fleeing or surrendering in a rather craven manner. His trusted vassals, mostly half-Giants, were arrayed around him, each bearing a Diamond Sword of Serept. The same dagger that Feshi carried was in a Garudas grip.

But look. Among the vastand it was a vast tapestry, maybe five hundred paces from end to end, because a half-Giant had commissioned it to be properly bigthere was one tiny figure. Just one, but visible amid the scene of operadic triumph.

A Gnoll stood upon a hill of his foes. He was armored in the same way as the undead standing before Feshi, raising a blade in triumph.

Just one Gnoll. Ratherkitschy. Tapestries are largely exaggerations.

Fetohep actually made his eye-flames do something like a roll as Noass broke the silence.

Unsurprisingly, you fail to take my point, Noass of Pallass. Behold. In the era of Serept, a Gnoll warrior was vaunted enough to be represented among Serepts finest vassals. I happen to know Dorrer of Khelt traveled from Izril to Khelt and won Serepts favor. It is a small, but noted passage in The Hammer of Giants, one of the many biographies of Serept published in Khelts library. It is my will that Satar of Tribe Silverfang receive it. She has no stories of Gnolls that remain in ink and paper? She will have one.

Feshi stared as Fetohep lifted the book he intended to send across the seaand handed it to a Courier ready to take it to a boat chartered to make a direct delivery. Such was Fetoheps largesse.

Satar was sitting now, with her mother and Silverfangs watching. If that were it, it would already have been a small, but special moment. A book from Fetohep himself! So ancient! Shed probably level from reading it.

But that was not all. Fetohep did not know the meaning of restraint. He thought he did, and he knew the dictionary definition, but nothing about the undead king ever indicated he could put the word into practice.

This is one example from Khelt. Now, I cede my time upon the orb to a ruler of surpassing respect. From Eternal Khelt, we salute the skies and the Shield Kingdom of Qualvekkaras, the Kingdom of the Winds. Sapki Makhita of the Garuda, I salute you.

Fetohep made a complex gesture to imitate a wing-arm, and both Drakes on television gulped as they realized theyd have to pronounce that.

Then Fetohep vanished, and a Garuda appeared in a shower of trumpets and song. She stood upon a cliff, the clear skies behind her, and her royal guard bowed in a flash of feathers and armor.

Someone who knew how to make an entrance. And, forewarned by Fetohep, Makhita used her time to capture the eye. Nor did she waste time.

In the days when Gnolls lived upon Chandrar, the greatest of them who raced across ground and sky came to us. When Fetohep of Khelt asked if her story remained, I laughed. Of course we remember her! Few species born without wings ever learned to fly without artifacts or magic alone. We have stories and books with her name.

She turned and, with a flourish, produced a tome that looked like it was a well-worn novel.

The Gnoll Who Flew.

Somewhere, the Flying Gnoll of Pallass fell over in a dead faint. Satar nearly fell over as the Sapki of the Shield Kingdom of Chandrar lifted her head.

Her feathers were white. Because, to Garuda, that was special, even royal. Mrsha stared up at her as Makhita spoke. Not in the royal tones, but almost conversationally.

I grew up reading stories of her! I would wager many rulers of Qualvekkaras did! We have books of her and her stories. Other Gnolls too! The thought that the tales of Arculen Jawbreaker were lostI myself will pledge to send a copy of our stories to Izril. Although it may be simpler just to have a [Scribe] copy it. But I will send our tales to the Gnolls of Izril.

And who is this flying Gnoll?

Drassi leaned forwards, and Satars fur began to rise of its own accord. It couldnt be. But wasnt it right there, in one of the most famous songs ever written and sung? The white-feathered Garuda looked at Drassi in shock and then threw her head back and caw-laughed. So did her retainers.

I didnt even say! I thought everyone would know her! She was the [Great Chieftain of the Skies], and she flew higher than most Garuda ever dreamed. Her name was

Serunial.

The Gnolls whispered it. The Gnoll who took her tribe into the clouds. The Sapki looked around, beaming.

She came to us to learn to fly! Well, of course she did. Imagine if shed been taught by Drakes! Shed have crashed before she got halfway up!

All the Garuda exploded with laughter and slapped each other with their wings. Noass opened his mouthand Makhita looked up.

Ah, but Im wasting time. Whos next? Umah, yes. Its written right here. Gorgon Lixctoria.

Wait, but

The image changed, and a Gorgon appearedor rather, one slitted eye. Noass nearly fell out of his seat, and Drassi recoiled. The Gorgon boomed as a plethora of Lizardfolk clamored to get into the shot.

Of course we had Gnolls. We have books of how they explored the Dyed Lands with the first of us. Or do you mean older? They came across the sea in ages past. Gnolls, who lived across this land. We were sorry when they leftwe didnt do it. Blame the Centaurs and Dullahans.

She held up a book and brandished it, before one of the Lizardmen raced onto the scrying orb. One of them produced a ring and tried to kneel down as he spoke rapidly.

Drassi, will you marry m

The Gorgon slapped him out of frame with her tail so fast they never heard the rest. And she was the last person Fetohep had prepared. But, of course, she was hardly the last.

Gnolls? We had them. Obviously. There are records of Gnoll-[Knights]. Youd think theyd be called [Fur Knights] or something, but apparently that was a slur back in the day.

A Terandrian [Historian] did his best to explain, but the energetic King of Avel was the one to use the unfortunate appellation, jostling for his screen time.

Satar said nothing. She just listened. And she looked. Not just at the stories each nation had

At their books. The [Bow King] raised it triumphantly.

It wasnt all about them. Some books were, but the others? It was just a single passage, or a side-character. But there they were.

We were here. Gnolls. They were in the other species stories. Heroes and villains and helpers, cunning tricksters and stalwart friends. More and more nations began cracking books open. Even nations that Satar had never heard of.

A Dullahan wearing what looked like coral armor from an island pointed to a library of a hundred books.

We have a hundred books in our library. Of the stories with histories or adventures, over sixty have Gnolls. We counted. Theyre here.

Wellof course. We have stories with Gnolls too, you know. Lots of Gnolls. We just dont go waving them about.

Noass tried to bluster. The Dullahan looked at him and frowned.

Shut up, Pallass.

They were there. Not just Gnollswhite Gnolls. Some of the pictures on the books definitely showed Gnolls with white furbut Satar didnt know what the books contained. It didnt matterlater, shed read everything anyone wanted to give her. Who turned down free books?

Unless they were bad books, of course. But these? These were their history.

We were there. And they remember. Mrsha watched the scrying orb and knew this made up for all the missed dessert in the world.

Mri: Good work, old guy. Youre old.

Fetohep of Khelt: I am aware.

Satar was less sardonic. She was crying again. She saw her people across the books of the world. And not from their perspective. Other species wrote of them. Critically, complimentarybut in such ways that you couldnt deny that they had been there and done great things.

She saw the world differently, and all because they had stood there and told her the truth. She looked around and saw the longing in even Cers eyes. Cers, who didnt like reading.

He wanted to know those stories. If only they could know those stories

Maybe well know the truth behind Doombringers. See it.

Someone had tried to erase the history of Gnolls, and they had done a thorough job, especially with a certain Wyrm accidentally aiding them at one point in history. But they couldnt erase everything and burn every book.

And that truth would set everything right. If any descendants of the original conspirators were still trying to hide the truth, this was a very unhappy day for them.

It was then, looking at this display of goodwill from people eager to give Gnolls something, however small, and stick it to the Drakes, that Satar realized what the Meeting of Tribes was missing.

She looked at Inkar, holding hands with Tkrn. The least monstrous person you could imagine to represent Earth. Rose too, come to it.

Adetr knew that. But still, he feared what hed seen. Like Mrsha, in a way, Doombringers were a nightmare if all you knew were the Retellings. But if you looked at Mrsha, lying bloated after too many bites of tuna or rolling down a hill with Gire?

Could you see a monster?

Yelroan knew the answer, but Satar had no idea of what he had found. Or whom he now feared.

As more texts with Gnolls were unveiled and Noass name was made fun of at least a dozen times, which was bordering cruelty, Satar turned away. Because she had an idea. The only question wascould it be done?

Surely. They had to try.

Back to the Meeting of Tribes that morning. The [Chieftains] didnt get to watch their achievements reflected in the literature of the world. They were tired of dark revelations.

Scared by the prospect of another world. A people they couldnt comprehend.

Truly couldnt. Adetr had watched Roses movies, and shed realized something when he had ducked when he thought something was coming towards him.

The first Humans who saw movies, like a simple clip of a train coming their way, had ducked and gone for cover. They had been uncritical viewers incapable of that level of abstraction to understand it was simply an image because they had never seen the like before.

In the same way, Gnolls had no reference for a skyscraper. They imagined a tall building, but even that was largely foreign to Plains Gnolls.

It truly was hard for them to think of Earth and all too easy to understand the worst of them. Just like, frankly, Earth would fear a world where something like Actelios Salash just lay buried in the sand or Crelers roamed.

It cut both ways. Yet the point was not to cut. Another speciesDrakescould react by making a giant wall or reaching for a sword.

Not her people. Krshia Silverfang had wanted, had believed that they would be better than that. She argued desperately, alongside a few other voices like Torishi, but she was outnumbered. It was not that they were fools or bad people. They had simply seen betrayal and darkness too soon.

They needed something else.

Soas the Meeting of Chieftains began to swing one way, someone interrupted it. The guards at the tents raised their spears, but warily, remembering Ferkr. They took one look at who was coming their way, put up their spears, stepped aside, and threw open the tent flaps.

Hold. I say, hold. Before we vote upon Earth and what happenshold. For what we lack in perspective. You have not heard the children of Earth.

Akrisa petitioned the [Chieftains]. Werri snorted.

Some of us have talked to them. Will it change our minds, to hear one of them speak? One Human is not all. Just like the King of Destruction is one manwe understand there is good and evil, Akrisa Silverfang.

But you do not understand it.

A voice rang from the opening at the entrance to the Meeting of Chieftains. As the Gnolls turned to look up, they saw someone standing there.

No one had noticed because shed let someone else take over, but someone hadnt been there to lead the Meeting of Chieftains.

Shaman Theikha of Gaarh Marsh had been absent. Nowshe stood there. Akrisa half-rose and made a choked sound. Not because of Theikhabut because of who stood with her.

Satar?

Satar Silverfang was shaking so hard it looked like there were two of her. Yet she stood by Theikhas side. The [Shaman of Tribe and Plain] was holding her staff and dressed in the full regalia of her office.

In clothing not much different from Satars, honestly. Dyed and wornbut she had put them on for this moment.

And Satar and Theikha were not the only ones who stood there. When Satar had proposed the idea, she had known that executing it would not fall to her. She hadnt a fraction of what that would require. Satar had thought, recalled something her new friends had said that had a common link, and gone to each one.

They had all agreed, but even together, they doubted it would work. Satar hadnt known either. There was no guarantee you could justmake a miracle.

So she had gone to the greatest Gnoll she knew, the [Shaman] who had lived over a century and a half without a drop of immortality in her veins.

Shaman Theikha. The [Shaman] had heard her, her eyes had crinkled up, and she had placed a paw on Satars shoulder.

You are the future we need, Satar Silverfang. Yes, it will work.

But the powerwe dont know how.

Theikha had laughed softly. She had looked around at the others and smiled.

You are in the Meeting of Tribes, Satar. At the heart of a people, gathered together in strength, even in this age. Believe anything is possible, and it will be so.

This is how they came to the Meeting of Chieftains. They met each other, looking the others up and down, as nervous as could be.

Satar Silverfang, of course, to explain it. To take responsibility if it failed and see what would happen if it succeeded. Journal in hand, quill poised to write.

Then was Rose, because she had to be there. Rose and Inkar, who were the heart of it. But they didnt have the Skills.

Feshi did. Feshi Weatherfur, the Diamond Dagger of Serept at her side, turned and nodded to the Gnoll made of metal, who stopped, so heavy he left a trail of sunken footprints where he walked. Adetr Steelfur.

Mrsha ran over to them, and Gire picked her up, handed her to Tkrn, and Mrsha was captured. Because she would not be joining them. It was dangerous and besidesthey didnt need a Mrsha. She turned as the third Gnoll who most certainly had to be there walked forwards.

Great Shaman. Are you sure youll needme? This is old magic.

Yelroan, the [Mathematician], looked nervously at Theikha. The old Gnoll chuckled.

And since when has math not been old, young man? You have a Skill, just as Satar said.

But can we combine them? It doesnt work like that. Its about chance. Luck, working hard, and a confluence

Adetr demanded, but Theikha lightly tapped his forehead with her staff.

Thats how you think it works, Adetr Steelfur. Which is fair. Now let me tell you how it truly is.

She walked forwards, adjusting her [Shaman]s outfit. Satar had helped her put it on. She had thought it mattered, but Theikha had just laughed.

Theres no grand magic in these clothes, Satar. Nor would that necessarily help. Its just so I look the part. And that matters.

Now, she took the staff and walked out of her tent. She had called for the Gnolls, of course, but she had also prevailed on Cetrule, Gire herselfand others for help.

Because this was more than Theikha, Gire, Feshi, Adetr, Satar, and Yelroan. Six Gnolls stood inside the tent as Mrsha tried to kick Tkrn in the crotch and make him let go. Rose and Inkar walked over to Theikha as she gestured for them.

Were supposed to be there already. Are we going to be late?

You are going to the Meeting of Chieftains. As am I. Late? Satar, we are [Shamans]. We are always perfectly on time. Nowfollow me.

Theikha winked one huge, brown eye, and left her tent. Satar saw the others follow, and was last to go. She walked outside and stopped.

Stopped dead in her tracks, like the others, because she had seen many great things at the Meeting of Tribesbut always as an observer. Right now? She was at the heart of it all.

Gaarh Marsh stood around Theikhas tent. Not one Gnoll, or a dozen, or even a fraction of the tribe. Nor even a thousand solemn faces, brown eyes shining behind fur adorned with gifts of the wetlands. Nor ten thousand. So many stood, silent, not a whisper passing as insects landed on fur, and animals like little packrats bounded forwards to watch, eyes too-intelligent, a sea of faces.

Such a stillness in the air that Satars heart juddered in her chest. She looked around and it seemed like there was no limit to them. This was Gaarh Marshs people.

All of them. Every Gnoll had come, forming a huge, vast crowd, parted on two sides. Leaving a wide walkway, positioning themselves, holding children and shorter Gnolls up so they could see one Gnoll who had asked them to do this for her.

They did it. Not for anyone. Not even for their Chieftain. But for her? Shaman Theikha?

Of course they did.

Other Gnolls in the Meeting of Tribes had seen the strange gathering. They saw Shaman Theikha emerge from her tentthen the sea of Gnolls forming a line straight to the Meeting of Chieftains tent.

Not just Gaarh Marsh. Oh, no. Ekhtouch was barely a drop in the bucket, but they stood there. Silverfang too. So too did a number of Plains Eye, though they had no idea what was happening. Longstalkers Fang, Greenpaw

Weatherfur.

Six tribes looked at Theikha as she walked forwards, the others following her. Justwalked. Head held high, pace measured.

The younger [Shaman], the [Storyteller], stumbled a bit as she walked through that ocean of gazes. She did very well, but for all her training, she was not prepared for this.

Satar hadnt known how hard it was to simplywalk in front of so many people. To do it normally was one thing, but to do it in front of countless thousands? Yet Theikha did it, and as she passed, the first ranks of Gnolls slowly sank to their knees. They kneltor satbut they did it for her. Theikha smiled at them, and Mrsha, still in Tkrns arms, saw something familiar.

Something she had seen only once. The first Gnolls[Shamans]reached up for something and then they handed it to the next Gnoll. Those Gnolls took it, just for a second, and handed it to the next Gnolls.

It was invisible. But Mrsha thought she could see it, almost. Something. Passed from one Gnoll to the next. Small, but growing. And there werehundreds of these things. Passed along.

To create great magic is very simple, you know, children.

The other Gnolls and Humans started and looked at Theikha as she passed along. The Gnoll turned her head, smiling, speaking almost conversationally. But this moment was anything but casual.

It was growing, in a wave, moving across the Meeting of Tribes, and now every Gnoll was watching. Something completely different than Eldavins great ritual, but something the Archmage of Memory would have recognized and respected beyond all else.

Theikha went on.

To work grand magic, to do great things together is difficult and simple. It takes the heart to trust. The love to place yourself in anothers paws. Such difficult things. But to combine your Skills is easy.

She turned, and her plain staff of wood set with a simple crystal rose, to show them the tribes passing along their magic. The countless faces, lives, all looking at them.

All it takes is this.

It was growing heavier, as each Gnoll passed it along. Heavieryet still lighter than air. The Gnolls looked up, and Satar saw their gazes change.

Many Gnolls could demand they do what they did. But only a handful in the entire world could walk along like so. Theikha raised her voice and asked them one question as she lifted her staff overhead.

Do you believe me, my people? Believe that I will create great wonders for you?

The answer was in the burden they passed along, merging into one thing. The greatest [Shaman] carried it now, letting Gnolls touch it. It was too heavy, too vast to carry unaided.

It divided further, until only a few Gnolls were left. ThenTheikha reached the top of the hill. Six [Shamans], one from each tribe, bowed deeply to her and lifted something in their paws.

There was nothing there. There waseverything there. Theikha took it from them and threw her head back. Then she motioned to the Gnolls and Humans to follow her.

That was what the guards saw. That was why they let her in.

Now, Theikha walked slowly down the amphitheater, passing by Chieftains and Gnolls who were every bit as famous as she. They all turned to her and watched.

Satar could not take her eyes off Theikha. She still walked with that measured tread, but now it seemed like the [Shaman] was walking through the world as if it were mist. She was the only real thing in the world. When she looked back to smile at Satarher eyes!

Oh, her eyes were filled with a thousand shining stars of light. Like the reaches of space. The air around her glimmered with magic. It was all contained in her chest.

The great [Shaman] of the Gnolls stopped in the center of the floor and turned. Rose and Inkar tripped after her. There came Gire, looking up at Firrelle, Satar, watching, as three Gnolls halted.

Yelroan, who looked at Xherw and smiled at his [Chieftain]s surprise. Feshi looked at Torishi and saw her aunt beaming proudly. Adetr looked up at Iraz and bowed his head.

Gnolls of Izril! You have heard the revelations of another world. They are terrifying. The world is changing. You fear what they have done and might dorightly. I will never say that the world has been kind to us. Yetas a young Gnoll pointed out to mewe lack perspective. It is too hard to look through anothers eyes.

Theikha spoke to the assembled Gnolls, and one of them, Akrisa, almost guessed what was intended. She looked down at Satar and saw Theikha gesture.

A great magic took place here once, to reveal the truth. NowI hope to work one again. For only good, this time. For understanding. Permit me this moment. Rose, Inkarr. Take my paws.

She reached out, and the staff floated upwards around her, curling her body as it defied gravity. Inkar and Rose gulped, then both young women reached out and took Theikhas hands. They gasped as if they were touching the font of some immense power.

A Giants hands. That was how she looked to Adetr. But the [Battle Seeker] slowly looked at Rose and saw her glance at him.

Will you try to see more than just death and battle?

I will try.

He whispered and took her hand in his paws as gently as he could. On the other side, Feshi looked at Inkar.

My teacher, the Titan of Baleros, always told me the world looks differently from where you stand. I want to see what he means.

Inkar smiled.

Me too. I want to show you.

They linked hands. Then was Yelroan. He hesitated. He looked at them.

I cantI have math, but I have no understanding of the rest. I dont know people as well. Ive been a fool and blind.

He looked at Theikha. She didnt respond. A current was running around them. Feshi nodded.

I want to see. I can provide understanding. I have seen many peoples.

I have seen war. But I do notI cannot make sense of the rest. You can. But I cannot understand it all.

Adetr hesitated as well. Theikhas head rose. It was incomplete. They were missing something.

So a giant girl stepped forward and Gire captured Yelroans paw in hers. She took Feshis paw and looked around.

I can understand it. Whatever they madeI can understand it. Whatever you can do, I can do better. Trust me.

She smiled, that arrogant [Paragon].

Were still missing something.

Theikhas voice was dreamy. Not a [Chieftain] moved. Not a Gnoll made a sound. The [Shaman]s head turned, searching. She did not have to look far.

Satar started. The [Storyteller] saw the [Shaman] nod.

Satar. Join us.

But I dont have a Skill

We have logic and math and understanding. We have the children of another world. But that is not enough. We need someone to fill in the gaps. Stand with us, Satar.

So the [Storyteller] walked forwards like she was in a dream. She took Yelroans other paw and Adetrs. One by one, they lowered their heads.

I call upon something greater than each of us. I am [Shaman of Tribe and Plains]. I summon the magic of the tribes. My magic is [Magic of a Thousand Souls].

Rose gasped, and Inkar lifted her gaze upwards to Eska and Honored Deskie watching her. Rose looked to Adetr. The [Battle Seeker]s jaw was clenched. As if fighting for every word, to show them, for good or ill, he spoke. It was so hardthen he met Roses gaze and spoke.

See what I have beheld. Our end. Andsomething else. Show me. [Vision of Greatest Battle].

He added his other Skills into it, everything he could. Next, Feshi. She whispered.

[Visualize Outcomes]. Let us see this world apart and know what it is!

Yelroan lowered his head. His sunglasses flashed in the light now pooling around them. Shaman Theikhas magic, shining like countless stars.

My eyes!

[Visualize Data Set]. Lets see who they really are, not just numbers.

Gire joined them, her voice strong and level, but quivering with something she couldnt process herself.

[Superiority Made Manifest].

She looked at Theikha and gasped. The magic ran around the ring of hands and people. Satar felt it building, but like a circuit with no end, an infinite loop, there was no outlet.

They knew what they wanted. Theikha had the power, each a piece of the puzzle. But there was no answer. The magic builtuntil Satar thought she would scream.

Maybe she was. Adetrs mouth was open, and Feshi was silently howling. Yelroans eyes were wide, and Rose and Inkar were looking up.

At a vision of their home. But it was only what they knew. Satars soul cried out, looking at them.

If only I could see what you see! If only I could tell your story perfectly!

If only my words would one day reach into every heart and deliver meaning like that. It was too easy to be confused by poor words, by other people who couldnt show you what they meant.

Ifif it were possible. Let it be now.

Theikha was struggling to carry the magic with her. The others fought to share her burden, but stillit wouldnt happen!

It was so close! Satar could see it, struggling to get out.

Why didnt Theikha reach for it? The Gnoll was staggering, falling, failing. It was going away. It was right there in front of them. But not even Gire saw it. She was struggling to carry the weight of it all and failing.

Itsalmost

Theikha looked up. Her eyes met Satars and her voice rose.

Do it, Satar. Show us! Only you can.

The [Storyteller] felt Yelroans paw tear away. Then Adetrs. She looked at Theikha. And thenshe reached out.

It was right there, trying to materialize. Somethingan idea that had never been before. The Gnoll felt like every fraction of space was an eternity to reach across. But she had to see. It was not will, or couragebut simply curiosity.

She reached out and grabbed something. The other Gnolls were on their feet, and they saw it, for a moment.

It wasa book. Just a book. A book, shining with all the things written between them all. Written in magic, glowing. Satar looked at it and tried to lift the page.

It was there. She needed to see it. She would uncover the truth of the Doombringers. She would tell this story. And tell it right.

The truth of the world was not one fact. It was never one thing you could point tobut it was still truth. Satar gasped. She reached out, and with all of her might

Turned that glowing page.

[Conditions Met: Archival Storyteller Historian of the World Class!]

[Class Consolidation: Shaman removed.]

[Historian of the World Level 25!]

[Skill Tribe: F

All the shouting voices in her head, trying to tell her so many things, removing, changingwere silenced by the loudest one of all.

[Combination Skill The World of You and Me created!]

It activated as Satar turned that wondrous page. She turned the page

And the world vanished.

Satar?

Akrisa looked around for her daughter, but she saw nothing at all. Theneverything. She jerked with surprise and looked around.

Krshia Silverfang, staring, also looked around wildly. She turnedand nearly fell over. The Gnoll woman had an odd dress on. Akrisa looked down for her daughterand saw something in front of her.

It wasa tiramisu tart. On a plate of white porcelain, and she was sitting in one of those precarious stools which crashed over as Krshia overbalanced and went down.

Everyone who saw it winced, and someone hurried over.

Are you alright, Maam?

Someone helped Krshia get up. The Gnoll got to her feet, dizzy.

Im fine. Im fine, thank you

She stopped and stared at a polite young man wearing a servers uniform, but in bright, monochrome cloth, with the little cafes emblem sewn onto it.

A young Human man. Akrisa stared at him and then around the cafe. Other diners looked at them. Her eyes fixed on a chalkboard where someone had spelled out all the food in what looked likedollars?

She realized her clothing had changed too. She even had a handbag. Akrisa dug in it and found it was not a bag of holding but rather inconvenient. She pulled out green pieces of paper and stared at the number on them and the man staring back.

Whatwhere are we?

Krshia staggered to her feet. The two Gnolls looked aroundthen caught sight of themselves in a mirror.

Two Human women stared back. Sisters. They looked around the cafe and then wandered out of it. They walked into the streets of a city and saw strange vehicles zooming past them. And everywhere they looked

Were Humans. Most were going about their day. Some looked bored, or harassed, or angry or sad. Some were odd; others tried to blend in. There was a honking sound that made both Gnolls winceand they looked overhead at a flying object that Krshia and Akrisa had only ever seen the wreckage of.

Akrisa stared up at a stoplight, and then Krshia pulled out her personal smartphone. She looked around at Humans.

Not at their best or worst. Not even caring about the two women. Someone in a giant fur-costume of a walking rat-thing moved past them. A Human, wearing it for reasons you could only guess at.

Humans at their weirdest. Humans at their finest. You could stop and talk to them, but they were probably busy.

Also, this was Los Angeles.

Inkar looked about and found she was lying on her back, staring up at the sky. She looked about and saw she was home. Homeand tears sprang to her eyes. There was no one around, though; she was in the middle of one of the rolling grasslands.

Only after a while did she see someone riding a horse around, poking it, checking the saddle, the gear. Chieftain Werri rode across the ground, looking up at the bright sky and laughing at how small it was.

Xherw jerked in his plane seat and tried to get up.

Sir, stay seated until were at cruising altitude.

A strange man in a uniform warned him. Ulcreziek looked about wildly as the two were crammed into tiny seats. Not even first class.

How did they know some things? It was like dream-logic. He knew the rules in vague, like dont walk into that street when the light is red. However, seeing a traffic light was still a shock beyond shocks.

He looked upon Earth with fresh eyes, and everything elsefell to him. Yet he was not alone.

Adetr opened his eyes, and Rose was there. She was looking up at something.

Come here, Adetr.

The Gnoll looked around for Iraz and saw only Cetrule, the Gnoll tugging open a manhole to peek inside. Both Gnolls looked up as Rose pointed towards her house. She was trembling. Afraid of what was inside.

Longing to see it, if only for a moment.

Math. Maaaaath

Yelroan ran about the university until someone called for campus security. Elsewhere, Theikha collapsed into one of those handy massage chairs at the airport as Gire brought her a drink and everyone stared at the nine-foot tall woman. Someone tried to recruit her for their university basketball team.

It was only for a second. It was only for an hour. The Gnolls within the tent walked out of it early, or just left because it was too much. Some died. They died like a dreamer, and some woke shaking, running from the tent, and others clutched at their heads, overwhelmed by what they could not, would not comprehend.

It was a story, and it told itself across each person differently. Wonderfully, with great joy and sights they lovedothers like a horror unfolding piece by piece, a nightmare and warning.

But they did see, and for every Gnoll that ran, a dozen stayed to talk, ask questions or just walk down a street. Others walked into a pub, had a drink, and decided they had Earth beat on beers. Or they checked the news, played games, found out what coffee tasted like when done right.

Even the terrible moments. Chieftain Orelighn of Greenpaw could not take his eyes off a Human without a home. Without anyone who would take his hand, alone among so many. He followed the Human around and watched. A steel and glass city with flaws in how they had made it.

So they are not that much happier.

Iraz Steelfur murmured to himself. He realized how blind he had been.

Two nations represented themselves for the Gnolls, Roses and Inkars. Beyond that, the world turned to mist, but the Gnoll had the most unpleasantly nonviolent experience of being crammed into a metal box with other people going to work. He could not imagine it was pleasant.

He looked around and saw no great warriors here. Or at least, not a nation of conquerors. Just people. Look at their miserable, empty faces. His tribe could lead them forwards and show them something better.

That was how they passed the time, all of the Gnolls who stayed.

Looking at Humans. Not sterling examples of the world, especially depending on where you landed. Far from perfect. Rude, or helpful, or surprisingly gracious. With odd customs and beliefs and far too much of an obsession with navels.

But people. Not monsters, running around with weapons, making war. They did make war and do terrible things. Butif ever their worlds should collide? If those lost children found their way to them

The Tribes of Izril would not welcome them with walls or distrust. They would treat a people like a people, varied, strange. And the children?

They would protect the children and let them choose who they wanted to be.

That was wisdom. And Satar Silverfang looked around, as she sat in a movie theater. She walked around and saw the story she wanted to write. The story of the world, as a proper account, never unbiased, but proper and true.

The story of two worlds. So she looked around for a journal, found a pad of paper and a handy scribbling pen. She looked at it with a frown.

Satar had seen a keyboard for the first time and decided she was done with quills forever. Just as soon as she could figure out how to make a computer. She sat down

And began to write.

Authors Note: This was a big chapter. I have noticedI tend to make my edited chapters the most ambitious, the toughest, and the grandest I can.

Not always in action. But I think its me pushing myself. If ever there was a reason to have editorsaside from the constant self-improvement? Its that.

Writing is constantly trying to self-improve. And editors feel, to me, to be one way to continue to improve. I also felt like this was a stronger chapter, and the edits gave more nuance to one part at the end around Fetohep

Youd have to read the draft to notice the difference. Suffice it to say, Im glad I got it done, but wow. Its a lot of words and I worked hard to get it done. It took a while to get edited because I was working on the Hectval arc and my vacation came up, but was it worth it?

Let me know. Hope you enjoyed this story about stories, and Ill see you next chapter!

Satar Interlude (Draft 1) can be read /satar-interlude-draft-1/

Password: preNavahEdit

Navahs Editorial Letter can be read /navah-wolfe-editorial-letter/

The Beriad of the Antinium by /peekay

Crusader 57 by /illudanajohnsCommission /OmNDuK8.jpg

Singing Golem, Omniscel, and Ksmvr dancing by /henodus2

Ko-Fi:https://ko-fi.com/henodus2