Helgrim lead the way from the river to the gnoll hunter's camp. It was impossible for him to say what they would face there - the gnolls were chaotic, unpredictable. The group at the ford had almost certainly come from there, so their numbers would be reduced, whatever they were.
The forest grew dim and twisted as they approached, cautiously. A cry of laugh-like yipping echoed through the forest as they approached, revealing activity around the camp. Gnolls could be active at all hours of the day - they napped in sporadic shifts and were notoriously underslept and irritable.
The Daggerfordians found a spot from which to observe the camp, from behind a rocky ridge. Two hyena-worgs patrolled the open ground in the shadow of the ridge. Beyond them, the camp had three large tents of stitched-together skins. Gnolls were no craftsmen; the tents were stolen, and only shoddily repaired by the gnolls themselves.
The firepit was unlit. Several gnolls stood near it, harassing an owlbear that they had captured and bound. They yipped in a spattering of strange noises and danced about, perhaps performing some sort of branding ritual. Nearby, there was a leafless, dead tree upon which a human and a dwarf were hanging by their wrists. Their tunics were torn open and their chests marked by ritualistic scars. In the tree over their heads sat a vulture, watching over them.