Dogs. Humanoid bandit dogs.

You hear them before you see them. Following the cackling of what sounds like a pack of hyenas, you put out your torch, then round the corner and quickly take stock of the open cavern.

Stalagmites and stalactites coat the ground and ceiling respectively, large pillars of stone that these Gnolls seem to have built around. They’ve set up several moderately sized hide huts, strung together by a combination of rope and pliable wood. In the middle of this compound is a common area – a small campfire, a few crudely made stone benches, and an iron pot for cooking are all haphazardly arranged, almost as if they were an afterthought. The area is crudely lit, only a handful of torches lit around their camp. There’s two Gnolls digging into haunches of what might be raw meat, their attention focused on a clearing just outside of their living area. Beyond the camp is a natural stone archway, hopefully leading to where they’ve stashed the prisoners. You crouch, moving forward carefully to avoid stepping on anything that might snap or clang, making sure to step over any insidious pebbles that might give away your position. When you see what’s got the Gnolls so preoccupied you frown. Looks like this’ll be a bit more complicated than you’d hoped.

About a dozen meters away from the huts is a dirt pit, carved out of the stone and filled in with earth, presumably from somewhere else in this cave system. There’s a large iron cage, even further from the pit and the camp. At this distance though, combined with your limited darkvision, you can’t really make out any fine details. Inside the pit is what can only be described as a Gnoll Fight Club. There’s two of the demon dogs facing off against each other, both unarmed, and both heavily wounded. Surrounding the pit is a crowd of rowdy Gnolls, howling and barking and cheering in broken Common.

“Rrrrrip him apart! Rip and tear!”

“Blood! Blood for the blood god!”

Well. Seems like they’ve having fun. You’re a bit worried that some of the prisoners might be in that cage now, though. If the prize for winning is access to what’s inside, then you’re going to have to move fast to make sure your caravaners don’t get eaten in some post-fight haze of ****. At least the sound of claws rending fur and Gnolls reveling in brutality will make it easier for you to proceed unnoticed.

You shrug off you pack and flip open your pouches, taking inventory of the tools you have at your disposal. A couple vials of acid, some alchemist’s fire, a smattering of caltrops, two daggers, a longsword, a buckler, and a hand crossbow. Yeah, that’ll do. Stealth isn’t exactly your forte, but you’ve got this. Probably.

You grab a pebble off the ground, toss it once in your hand to get a feel for its heft, then gently lob it behind one of the huts. One of the Gnolls’ ears twitches as it clatters, turning its head around with a growl. It slowly gets up from the stone bench, stalking forward with the gait of a natural hunter. The Gnoll freezes, lifting its nose into the air to take a series of quick, deep sniffs. Bounding forward, it skids around the bend of the hut you tossed the pebble behind, only to find both your rock and your sweaty undershirt. You leap from behind just as it turns around, eyes wide with realization. It’s too little and too late, however, and you bury your dagger to the hilt in the dog’s forehead.

One down.

You make quick work of the other dining Gnoll, slitting its throat before it even knew it was in danger. Looking up, it seems like the fight pit hasn’t noticed, which makes things easier. An all-out brawl with your current equipment wouldn’t end so well. But you have the element of surprise.

Pulling out your acid and alchemist’s fire, you take a moment to gauge the distance of your throws. Steeling yourself, you toss both containers at the small crowd of onlookers. The acid and fire fly true, as four of the crowd erupt into screams of agony, acid and fire eating away at their bodies. You dash forward to the nearest of the Gnolls that’s still up, stabbing him with your dagger. A Gnoll across the pit barks out in fear, pointing at you ineffectually. You pull out your hand crossbow, taking quick aim and firing, causing the Gnoll to make a satisfying gurgling sound as it collapses onto the ground.

You hop into the pit, your last dagger in hand, only to find that half the work has already been done for you. One of the pit fighters is already lying in a bloody, crumpled heap on the floor. His opponent is in no shape to fight back, and as the wounded Gnoll staggers towards you, you put it out of its misery.

Well damn! That went pretty well! Looks like you’re getting pretty good at this whole adventuring thing. You didn’t even have to use any of your Oath magic.

However, as you’re cleaning off your daggers, you realize three things. One – that you can hear deep, heavy breathing coming from the cage. Two – that said breathing is growing in intensity and getting louder every second. Three – that the iron bars keeping the cage, you know, a cage, are currently being bent open.

What emerges is a beast with mottled green skin, nearly as tall as the cave. It has long black claws and long, greasy black hair. What unnerves you the most is its feral yellow eyes, both of which are completely focused on you. It tilts its head back, letting loose a roar that causes the ceiling to loose bits of gravel.