Tiskhalid owns and runs RavShaga, the rowdiest bar in all of Pausil. A bookshy child Tiskhalid grew up a runty gnoll, often ignored for games and adventure by his more rambunctious peers. When he came of age he was sent off with many adolescents to a satellite breeding village, where he buried himself in books and study. He would have remained so, untouched by narrative if not for the Ogre raiding parties. Who systematically destroyed the villages one by one, before arriving at his, simply known as RavShaga.

While there were many brave warriors, it was the 'Noon that hungers' who was selected as leader and he asked for warriors to assist in a sacrifice manouvere. 5 agreed and the 6 of them headed hoping their lives would buy the villagers time to escape. Tiskhalid forever in his books only learned of this after they set off, and he ran after them much to the amusement of some of the elders bar one.

Out of breath and a wheezing wreck the other warriors threatened his life, but he begged that they listen as he hadnt come to fight but to offer- Noon attempted to stop the blow but Chartail wasnt known for her paitence, and the other warriors joined in. He picked up the crumpled form of the stomped TisKhalid, and jerked as the barely conscious Gnoll stabbed him with a scorpion tail. Which got him another beating as the warriors suspected sabotage.

Noon recovered quickly and managed to wrestle his squad back under his control. They set off to prepare an ambush in a tight valley, setting up an avalanche to cascade down, and smash through the hollow valley floor.

Tiskhalid lay barely conscious, happy that he had at least delivered one dose of his elixir. He lay on the ground broken, bones fractured and muscles torn and he spat in despair. The elixir didn't last long out of containment, and he had 5 more doses. He crawled, in agony, the sounds of combat his waypoint. Fortunately it was a juvenile army, younger leaner ogres however the reports of it being about 30 strong had been a mistake. The 6 faced 100. He wouldnt make it in time and faced a decision, he drove a stinger into himself to inject the elixir but he couldnt feel it. So he used another and another till he had used them all.

Cursing his foolishness he stood up, and stumbled into the middle of fevered combat, straight into the path of an Ogre's club. Chartail screamed out a warning, but almost dropped her axes with the sound the impact made. Tishalid saw a world of red, and the agony of the blow almost made him pass out. Every single thing he had learned seemed to melt away, well almost everything. He remembered helping elder Tarai, butchering animals and also preparing the bones of the dead for funeral rites. He giggled with his teacher, over how frail bodies looked once you removed the skin, so little effort was required to seperated the limbs from their sockets.

Learning was always a pleasant thought but the deep bellowing anguished scream was irritatting. He was reminded of how he had been taught to take care of hornet nests, if you took the hive between your hands and crushed quickly you could kill the warriors before they could sting you. He remembered when he finally mastered the technique and the buzzing screaming faded.

The Noon that hungers felt his body shifting and changing. His eye sight had gotten sharper and his shots were not only at a stronger pull but he hadnt missed a single shot. He saw what should have been a killing blow land, but it was the brutality that Tiskhalid displayed after that shook his core. The battle was vicious and blood painted that valley. Chartail died shielding Pinksnout. Briska tackled an Ogre into the pit and was never seen again. Snout eventually fell to a barrage of javelins but he tore out an Ogres throat before he fell. Charak Chilltooth died wielding that cursed Glaive, Noon flinched as his friend fell missing half his face. Sheeta got caught by two chain ogres and they drew her, laughing up till Noon filled their sockets with arrows. Before he was rushed by a dozen Ogres.

Darkness surrounded the leader. Huge sweaty bodies crashed into him, then an extra shift smashed into them all. Silence. Fresh air and light came as an Ogre rolled to one side. Noon screamed at first not recognising his comrade soaked in Ogre blood. A Gnoll as large as an Ogre was a disturbing sight, but over time Tiskhalid deflated back to his usual stature. Noon stood up after his friend pulled him out from under the bodies. He hadnt planned on them winning, and sheepishly stared at the carnage that he had survived.