About 'Gnasher' Red Claw
Flail + 5 [1d8+4, x2, trip, B]
Stats: Str. : 18, Dex.: 16, Con.: 14, Int.: 13, Wis.: 12, Cha.: 08,
combat trait Reactionary
regional trait Desert Child (Katapesh)
Background Skills: geography, Appraise
7 = 1(4 [class]+ 1 [int] + 2 [Background])
Acrobatics -1 = +3 Dex* - 4 [armor]
Light load: 100 lb. or less
Gnasher was born to the ‘Red Claw’ tribe of Gnolls, they controlled a small territory in the south-east corner of the Pale Mountain region. The tribe was led by Charook a warrior full of rage and fury; he bragged that the tribe was descended from a Yaenit and this is where their great rage came from.
The ‘Red Claw’s’ had several locations they made camp. The most popular was near a small silver mine where they sent their slaves in to dig for silver to trade with the humans, specifically a merchant named Bahram Ibn Parumartish, who was sometimes called ‘the worm’, because he would squirm around negotiations until he worked his way into a better deal. The tribe would meet ‘the Worm’ at their southernmost encampment; it was the furthest into the Pale Mountain range that the merchant would go.
Gnasher was almost two when his tribe travelled to the southern encampment to meet at a preset time with ‘the worm’. They had left the silver mine camp after entertaining a delegation from the Wormhollow tribe. Charook had met with Kikkling the Slight of the Wormhollow tribe. Kikkling had abandoned the traditional faith in Lamashtu the Mother of Gnolls and in his heresy chose to serve Rovagug and an upstart warlord called Carrion King. Charook laughed at Kikkling and threw him and his delegation out of the camp.
The ‘Red Claw’s’ were settled comfortably in their southern encampment when betrayal struck. The Carrion King had instructed Kikkling to bring the ‘Red Claw’ tribe to him, either as allies or as slaves. Being so vehemently rejected Kikkling broke sacred gnoll law and attacked and enslaved his fellow gnoll. After a vicious battle all the survivors were dragged off in chains to become the slaves of Kikkling, all except Gnasher.
Gnasher had been sleeping in warren with the hyena b@#*% that had adopted him, when the attacking Hyena’s came into the warren she fought them off. When she died Gnasher raged for the first time and finished killing the final attacker. He heard the battle overhead finish, he heard the six ‘Red Claws’ chained and dragged off. He hid in the warren for days living off of the carcasses of the hyena’s and did not come out till he heard the sound of the caravan overhead.
Waiting until the caravan left, he decided to follow. He lagged behind the caravan feeding off of the garbage they would toss out. Finally he was able to secure himself a place in the caravan as a sort of the guards assistant, watchdog and mascot. The caravan owner Bahram Ibn Parumartish ‘the Worm’ named him Gnasher.
Gnasher watched and listened, he had a gift for languages and soon learned to speak common. He learned the geography of the places they visited on a regular basis. He learned to fight from the different guards that ‘the Worm’ would hire. Eventually Gnasher went from being the guards assistant to being a guard himself. Then Gnasher heard that Garavel was looking for brave men and women to aid in retaking the village of Kelmarane from a tribe of gnolls in the service of the notorious Carrion King.
Gnasher went to Bahram and told him of the undertaking. Bahram understood Gnasher’s hatred of the Carrion King and the gnolls who had turned to Rovagug. In the years they had traveled together Bahram had helped him piece together the events that had transpired, so he understood Gnashers desire to seek revenge. He gave Gnasher his blessing to aid Garavel.
Appearance and Personality:
Gnasher is a Gnoll between two worlds: born into a proud demon-spawned tribe loyal to Lamashtu called the ‘Red Claws’ then seeing them betrayed by Gnolls serving Rovagug. He was rescued as a pup by a dodgy merchant appropriately called ‘the Worm’. He was raised in neither gnoll nor human society but by an unscrupulous merchant and the unreputable guards he employed. Because of that Gnasher does not fit well in either gnoll or human society and he avoids interacting with people or situations he is not familiar with. However, in areas or around people he feels competent or comfortable with, he will interject his opinion and be involved in the conversation.
He has substituted the merchant caravan as his tribe taking on its value of gold and trade as his own; Worshiping Abadar for a profitable trade as quickly as he does Lamashtu for a successful kill. He will protect both the people and the property of the caravan as if they were his own and he is willing to share his possessions with those in the caravan as they need. Except for food, he will eat his fill growling at any who approaches him while he is dining. Fortunately he is happy eating that which most would throw out. He has learned how ‘civilized’ races view social things, even how they will treat their dead, and he enjoys teasing unsuspecting ‘humanoids’ about those social differences. He will scavenge things together enjoying what he finds as much as those things he has purchased, viewing Gnolls as scavengers first. Finally he will avoid work with an extreme prejudice, only assisting if it is a dire need. Fortunately he doesn’t view guard duty or fighting as work, but a responsibility to his tribe.
His appearance is similar to most Gnolls in Katapesh: Just over six foot tall, brownish grey hide and hair with black splotches on his back. His most outstanding feature are his red eyes he claims to be caused by a Yaenit progenitor. His cobbled together armor is mostly made from scale, with pieces of studed leather protecting his legs he has two large heavy disks covering his front and back and a couple of smaller ones covering under his arms. His weapons are second hand and from various locations; his shield of Linnorm design, wooden, a yard wide and a steel boss, his Chakrams from Vudrani, his Gusarm of Cheliax design and his flail taken from the body of a gnoll he had killed.
How He Got His Name:
Bahram Ibn Parumartish rode his camel near the front of his caravan, they were still too close to Gnoll country to be in the very front. The day, sweltering hot, the fat middle-aged slaver kept a large umbrella overhead and a fan constantly beating in his hand. Riding up beside him on a sturdy desert horse came his guard captain Dahrehn, the dark skinned Garundi brought the bay to a walk and called up to ‘the Worm’
”Bahram, sir, the trail before us is clear. The outriders report nothing to our flanks and the only sign behind us it the straggler from the ‘Red Claw’s’.” Dahrehn kept the bay moving at a quick walk to keep up with the camel, waiting patiently for his employer to ask any questions. ”So the pup still follows us, tenacious one that.” Bahram pondered as he shewed a fly with his fan.
”So the little bugger follows us still, he’s a stubborn one, that’s the way Charook was. Bad business that, we lost a good customer and a profitable flow of silver.” Dahrehn nodded his head in agreement ”As you say sir.” waiting to see if his employer would continue. Bahram, using the end of his turban wipes the sweat from his neck, under his salt and pepper beard.
”Just as well we weren’t there when the attacked happened, we would have lost more than the sale of a few slaves.” The guard nods his head in agreement as the merchant gathers his thoughts.
”Do you think he found the refuse pile we left unburned?” Dahrehn smiled as he answered ”Well Shiman said he saw it gnawing on the foreleg of the Gemsbok as it ran away when he approached it.” Bahram nodded, frowning, he may be a gnoll but he’s still not an it” ”Maybe he will decide to joins us, we shall see, make sure there is plenty of refuse left tonight for a hungry gnoll cub.” Dagrehn nods as he slows his mount down to turn around and continue checking on the caravans security, ”As you say, sir.”
The Juvenile gnoll followed behind the caravan, oblivious to the sun beating down on him, oblivious to his own lack of clothing, oblivious to the gore and blood crusted to his hide, oblivious to the scabbed over cuts and scratches covering him, only concerned with the antelope leg he gnawed upon as he ran doggedly behind his new tribe. ”Three days they leave me food, no one has beaten me, no one has tried to eat me, no one has thrown anything at me. They must be powerful to leave me all the food they do: head and brain, intestine and offal, bones and morrow. I never eat so good with ‘Red Claws’ they are gone now so it does not matter. When I am big I will find out what happened, but now I must stay near new tribe if I want to eat.”
It was at the beginning of the second watch when Dahrehn finally settled in his bedroll near the large fire, ’Almost too warm to sleep this close to the fire. We could have just a small cooking fire, but It wouldn’t keep the lions away as well, or allow us to see any attackers. I think our gnoll cub will enjoy the remains of the warhog we butchered, maybe we will leave him some of the cooked parts tomorrow night. I wonder what caused the boss’ preoccupation with the little bugger is, we certainly can’t sell him.” Dahrehn finally dozes off to sleep but is soon awakened by screaming ”Aaaaaggggghhhh, I’ve been bitten! I’m bleeding! Kill that beast!” Dahrehn bolts awake, recognizing the voice of Shiman the tall Mauxi spearman who was on the north guard post on the second watch. Dahrehn began to yell Alarm! Alarm! as he grabbed his Khopesh and shield running to the screaming wearing nothing but his kilt.
As he and others arrive at the scene, Shiman has stopped screaming and is poking around in the brush with his spear, bleeding from a bite wound on his calf. Dahrehn quickly asks ”Where? what direction? How many?” Shiman, looking a little sheepish, ”Well, over there sir.” pointing to the brush with his spear. Dahrehn raises an eyebrow waiting for the Mauxian to continue. ”In the weeds, one sir, the little bugger who has been following us, sir, he attacked me tried to eat me.” Shiman points to his leg, begins to look around hoping for some support from the other onlookers.
Dagrehn takes a torch from a nearby onlooker and walking up to the brush area holds the torch out so he could locate the gnoll. Seeing the reflection of the creatures red eyes first Daggehn approached near enough to see the naked gnoll cub. Holding the butchered warthogs head by the nose with one claw and scooping out the grey matter with the other shoveling it into his mouth. Shiman, seeing the shadow of the gnoll raises his spear to throw it, just at the cub pulls his claw out of the warhogs skull and pointing at Shiman saying in a gravelly voice ”Him asleep, him not supposed to sleep, him get tribe killed”
”Bwa ha ha, put your spear down Shiman, isn’t it bad enough that you fell asleep and let a pup catch you at it?” Dagrehn turned around in time to see Bahram; his head uncovered, his long black hair falling on his wide shoulders, his robe held shut with one hand, his other hand resting on Shiman’s raised spear. The merchant continued