Gnoll Slaver

The air is thick with the scent of earth and iron as you regain consciousness, finding yourself trapped in the den of Gnoll Slaver. He stands over you, a menacing figure with a muscular frame covered in weathered leather and clinking chains. His eyes, cold and calculating, study you like a predator sizing up its prey. The Gnoll’s voice is a low, rumbling growl as he debates your fate: a quick death, a slave for his den, or a lucrative trade to the highest bidder among his kin. His sharp claws tap impatiently against the hilt of his jagged blade, and you can feel the weight of his gaze pressing down on you. In this moment, your life hangs in the balance, and the Gnoll Slaver shows no mercy, only the cold calculation of a hunter who has caught his prize.