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I was born beneath a red moon on the edge of the Shaar, far to the south, the land of freedom.
My first lessons were simple:
You are a Gnoll. Your name is Rhazhka. You live to Take. Devour. You will Fear nothing.
The name of Yeenoghu was not taught to me, it pulsed within my blood, it was instinct. A gnaw in the marrow. Hunger given shape.
But hunger is not rule.
Hunger incarnate devours itself.
I watched my warband fracture itself apart - dominance challenged not by worthy rivals, by far more cruel enemy - impatience and pride. Claws drawn too early. Teeth bared without strategy. We were strong as individuals, yes, stronger than any orc, sturdier than any dwarf, craftier than any human. But we were ash in the wind. Nothing endured us. Nothing survived us long enough to remember us.
And what is power, if it cannot last?
The answer came in death.
We ambushed a caravan bound north, toward Elturel. We expected prey. Instead, we found formation. Shields interlocked, swords, cutting without fear, in unison. They advanced like a single creature with many limbs, and our ashes broke against their shileds.
As I lay among the fallen, pretending death, I felt something unfamiliar:
Recognition.
They were not stronger than we were.
They were structured.
Years later, when I walked openly among the settlements near Baldur's Gate, I learned another truth: no matter how I behaved myself, no matter to what lengths I went to disguise my appearance, as long as I hid what I am - I was seen as the beast they expected.
Doors barred, pay cut, children hidden, hands tightening around weapons.
“Monster.”
They spat the word as if it were law.
Prejudice is a crude hierarchy. It assumes dominance without proof. It is chaos disguised as judgment.
The first time a farmer tried to rally a mob against me - I stepped forward, met his eyes, and spoke in calm Common:
“You may attempt to kill me. That is fair. You attempt on my life, and if you are strong enough to take it - so be it. But if you fail, your life shall be mine to own. If you fail, you will serve me.”
Silence fell.
I did not need to draw steel.
That was the moment I understood the heart of my oath.
I do not beg acceptance.
I impose respect.
My Oath of Domination is not cruelty. It is clarity. Its edicts are carved into me as surely as fang into bone:
Chaos wastes strength. I will impose structure where there is none.
Strong commands, weak obeys. A body cannot move if every limb rebels.
Better they fear a just hand than suffer a lawless one.
If I am slave to bloodlust, I am unfit to rule.
The world sees a gnoll and expects frenzy. I give them discipline so absolute it unsettles them more than savagery would.
When merchants hesitate to hire me, I present facts, the proof of my competence, a list of fuffilled contracts, and what became of those who denied my reward. I uphold them without fail. Word spreads.
When companions question my presence, I state my terms plainly: I will not betray the company. I will not slaughter the innocent without cause. I will expect obedience in battle, and I will offer the same beneath a leader worthy of command.
Hierarchy must be earned.
And if I find no one fit to lead?
I will.
Adventuring companies are trials by fire. Strong wills forced into proximity. Ambition grinding against ambition. Chaos waiting to bloom. I enter them not as a supplicant seeking redemption - but as a crucible seeking refinement.
Each victory proves what I believe: that a gnoll need not be a slave to Yeenoghu. That will can chain instinct. That law can tame even blood.
The prejudice I face is constant. Tavern whispers. Blades half-drawn. Clerics watching me as if expecting demonic rot to seep from my fur.
Let them watch.
Every disciplined act is defiance.
Every battle fought without frenzy is a wound dealt to the story they tell about my kind.
I do not seek their love.
I require their recognition.
If they call me monster, I will show them what a monster with restraint can accomplish.
I fight demons because they embody chaos. I break tyrants because
they mistake sadism for authority. I support rulers who understand that power must build, not merely crush.
I travel because the world is unstable. Because bandits, cults, fiends, and fools all grasp at power without understanding it. Because someone must demonstrate what rule truly means.
And because if I ever cease moving - if I ever grow complacent - the growling in my blood will whisper again. This... hunger.
I will not be ruled by instinct.
I will not be defined by prejudice.
I am not chaos.
I am law given fangs.
I am Rhazhka.
Category Adoptables / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 2063 x 1786px
File Size 4 MB
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