A Mongrel Pack

The members of the pack are restless, rumbling and yelping even as they themselves try to hush their equally excited brothers and sisters. To most, this would be a trivial, almost tragicomic scene. A minor outpost in a minor zone, home to banal gathering quests and a rarely reached stop in an overly long fetch quest, surrounded in the quiet of night by starting zone fodder who's sole redeeming feature is that at least they aren't goblins, so isn't that interesting.

Really though, mongrels might as well be goblins. Sure, fine, whatever; having every lowbie zone filled with the same trash gets dull. So while most have goblins, some have imps, or toadies, or bandits, or yes, even mongrels. And they are cute, looking rather like fluffy little puppies mixed with ewoks and ****. But ultimately it's all the same. Like goblins and the rest, they exist to be hit once or twice with a sword as one exits the zone towards something bigger and better. Or at least more interesting.

But not anymore. Before, the mongrels were alone, they were disorganized. But that changed the night that Boss Yip-Yap came to them and made their tails wag again. The night Boss Yip-Yap looked each and every one of his future pack mates in their eyes and told them he had a plan. A plan to make this place theirs, forever and always. His plan was bold. His plan was simple. His plan was ingenious.

His plan couldn't fail.

Even as he quiets the pack with a raised paw, they can't help but murmur and whine in barely contained rapture. This little outpost, not even an actual town, sees maybe one player a month it was so trivial, leaving it almost entirely to the auspices of the few guards stationed there. So few they didn't notice the dozens of mongrels creeping up under the shroud of darkness. So few they could never unravel the intricacies of Boss Yip-Yap's plan. Not before it was too late, anyway.

And it already was too late.

Boss Yip-Yap led his pack all the way to the very face of the outpost's meager walls, the other mongrels whining in excitement but unwilling to act without their leader's signal. Yip-Yap held them there for an agonizing eternity, and then threw back his head in a victorious howl as he put his masterstroke into play. The time had finally come. He was finally peeing directly onto the outpost.

The other mongrels cheered and howled in triumph as Boss Yip-Yap roared his success, his powerful stream of potent urine splashing all over what was now his wall like a mighty, unstoppable river. "Haha, yes, YES!" he exulted, shuffling around to splatter his marking torrent in a dominant swath. "This now belongs to Yip-Yap! ALL OF THIS IS NOW BELONGS TO YIP-YAP!

So frenzied were the pack's cries and jeers that they continued to celebrate even as the first arrow burst through Boss Yip-Yap's head, his piss stream still sputtering out even as he wobbled bonelessly on his stricken feet. The second and third arrows sent him sprawling to the ground, while the fourth and fifth could only be called bad manners. The cheers had mostly died down now, some diehard holdout managing a final, heartbreaking 'whoo' before the gates to the outpost groaned open, and everyone scattered.

Well, it was still a good plan.

You were pretty sure the plan was terrible. But Yip-Yap was the biggest, so his plans were the biggest, right? That's how things work. And you weren't going to bring everyone down, just because of some doubts! Not you! So what did you do when the call went out? You went and got that big damn stick you found a few weeks ago, collected that big sharp rock your brother gave you when it fell onto his head and killed him, then lashed them stoutly together and joined the rest of the pack.

You might have had doubts about the plan, and yes, even the pack. But you brought the biggest stick, and you put a pointy rock on it. Let any dog say you weren't committed.

But now Yip-Yap is dead, those monsters at the fortress unwilling to recognize his pee-superiority, just as you feared they might. And even your big stick with the pointy rock tied to it won't bring him back. Maybe it will. If the coast is clear tomorrow you'll come back and poke Yip-Yap with your big stick and pointy rock, to see it if brings him back to his previous big-ness.

For now, though, you're going to scamper away for your very life, because the fortress monsters sure are killing a lot of you. That's your current plan, and it feels plenty big enough for you.

• Level 1 Mongrel Packling
• HP: 5
• Melee Attack: 2
• Ranged Attack: 0
• Weaknesses: None
• Special Abilities: None