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Message: <blockquote data-quote="arwink" data-source="post: 1689972" data-attributes="member: 2292">GrroulthIt was a good trip-line, Grroulth was sure of that.  Tied tight and well judged, just about the point where a horseman would get caught up and knocked to the ground, but not high enough to do permanent damage.  He put out a hairy finger and strummed the line, listening to the resonant twang, before nodding in satisfaction and scrabbling back to his crude hiding spot.It’d been ten days of tracking to find the bounty-head, but Grroulth had him.  He’d followed the mark over hill and dale, tracked him to the small trading post in the wilds of Darokin, and he knew the marks plans from there on in.  He was worth 70 gold, probably not enough for the effort Grroulth was going to, but there was such a thing as professional pride at stake.  Grroulth caught what he said he’d catch.  Most of the time, anyway.  Occasionally, at the very least.Grroulth’s stomach let out a loud grumble, and he swore silently at the noise.  The elf was only minutes away, easy prey for the trap line, but only if he didn’t spot the bounty hunter.  It would have been so much easier if Grroulth could just go into the tavern.  Walk in, club the elf, drag his useless carcass out.  Easy.  No mess and no hiding.  Grroulth permitted himself a quiet sigh.  If only it could be done without causing a panic, he thought.  Humans – give them one glance at a patch of fur and sharp teeth and they start to panic.  It’s enough to make a gnoll wish he ate man-flesh.Tall ears suddenly twitched, catching the distant sound of horse hooves.  Grroulth permitted himself a savage smile and tightened his grasp on his war-axe.   His prey was getting closer…closer…closer…“Dwarfsplitter?”.It was a loud, cheerful voice asked the question.  One that came directly to his rear.  Grroulth swore quietly, whirled around to see a smiling gnome in a dark, three-piece suit.  The gnome beamed widely, twirling a thick mustache. “Quiet,” Grroulth ordered.“Are you the gnoll known as Dwarfsplitter?” the gnome persisted.“Was,” Grroulth hissed.  “Don’t use it no more.  Tends to scare people.  Keep quiet”“Ah, my apologies,” the gnome said, his voice unmoderated.  “You’re uncles information was quite old, from what I understand.”“Uncle?” Grroulth said.  One ear was still listening to the sound of the horse approaching, the other trying to follow the gnomes speach.  “Graahk,” the gnome said.  “Claims to be your mothers brother.”“Mother’s dead.”“A sad state of affairs, I’m sure,” the gnome said.  “Your uncle spoke well of her, despite her unreformed ways.  Were he still alive, I’m sure he’d be grieved to hear of her demise.”The gnome nods amiably, as though expecting Grroulth to say something.  Grroulth stares intently, wondering if the gnome is merely mad or simply some ploy on the part of his quarry to devious for the bounty-hunter to understand.“Well,” the gnome says eventually.  “No matter, I’ve been tasked to give you this.”The gnome holds out a small, folded sheet of parchment.  Grroulth regards it carefully, picking it up with one paw and sniffs it.  It smells of ink and wax, nothing suspicious.“What is it?” he asks.“Well, it would appear…” the gnome begins, but the sudden twang of the trip-line going taut resonates through the forest and Grroulth is gone, sprinting through the undergrowth.  The axe swings wildly, dispatching the elf’s horse, and the great gnoll is left struggling on the ground in an effort to subdue his quarry.The gnome watches for a while, shrugs, then disappears behind the tree root.</blockquote>

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