Raiders and warriors, thieves and murderers, gnolls prey upon the spoils of other races—their refuse, their castoffs, and their vulnerable. Gnolls are often likened to hyenas, but with intelligence and the ability to walk on two legs. This comparison is both succinct truth and deadly understatement. Like the beasts they resemble, gnolls survive off the scraps of those greater than themselves, opportunistically preying upon the weak while cowering before the powerful. Unlike base beasts, though, gnolls know the value of organization, the inevitable deadliness of prolonged attacks, and the might of their own tribes. In others, gnolls see only the potential for prey and exploitation, and those too canny to serve as today’s meal might still serve as tomorrow’s feast.
In the shadow of Pale Mountain, gnoll savagery takes on a new dimension. Here, secreted among the dusty foothills and shadowy crags, the beastmen gather in bands of dirty, brutal curs, seemingly with few greater aspirations beyond their next meal. These gnolls are filthy wretches who demonstrate the horrors of inbreeding, seclusion, and murder, ravenous beasts that covetously guard the barren territories they claim as their own.
Feared and loathed even by others of their kind, the gnolls of Pale Mountain embrace their brutality with the spread of a savage cult among their people: worship of the Rough Beast, Rovagug. Throughout Golarion, gnolls typically worship Lamashtu, who is often credited with raising them up from mere beasts. In the Pale Mountain region, the Carrion King—a merciless warlord sworn to Rovagug’s bloody religion—revels in the debauchery and savagery of his minions’ fear and faith, exulting as they raise icons to the god of wrath and howl his name as they ride to slaughter. As the Carrion King’s power grows, more and more tribes fall beneath his influence, sharing in the spoils of his savage rule and adopting the ways of his mad god. Now all of Pale Mountain quakes with bloodcurdling howls, but whether the gnolls of the Brazen Peaks will turn upon themselves or strike from their lairs, bringing new war upon unprepared Katapesh, none yet know.
From his throne upon Pale Mountain’s slopes, the Carrion King commands hundreds of gnolls, his emissaries and slaves having compelled or subjugated numerous tribes of slavering warriors into his service. Among the ramshackle hordes, bands of raiders and slavers, and lone murderers, four noteworthy tribes have come to serve the cruel warlord. Each known and feared in its own right, these four tribes existed before the Carrion King’s rise to power, having shared and warred over Pale Mountain for decades.
Now they find themselves allies but, even under the claws of their brutal master, the resulting peace is a weak and little-enforced thing. Of the tribes serving the Carrion King, each possesses a similar structure. A strong leader commands the activity of the whole pack, organizing hunts, placating the tribe’s deities, and leading them in preparations for raids and inevitable intertribal skirmishes. Even in this time of supposed truce between rival tribes, bloody conflicts are not uncommon. As individual tribes prove too small to sustain prolonged battles there might be weeks without any direct conflict, but a season cannot go by upon Pale Mountain without groups of gnolls dying in the jaws of enemy tribes. The Carrion King punishes conflicting tribes—often with murder and impossible commands—but such castigations are swiftly forgotten as rivalries and slights stir the embers anew.
Presented here are the four greatest tribes in the service of the Carrion King. While each vies for power over one another—and possibly over the Carrion King himself—each also has its own objectives and desires to gain from allegiance to their vicious warlord.
The fate of the Al’Chorhaiv tribe changed during a nighttime thunderstorm. It began when Vaskjaw, the tribe’s white-crowned leader, stumbled from his harem pavilion, his belly distended and shuddering like a frog’s bladder. A labored and gurgling moan grated from his clenched teeth as his limbs flailed like a dropped marionette. A moment later the old chief collapsed and the rest of the tribe hurried to surround him, his writhing form illuminated by bursts of harsh light in the driving rains. His eyes widened underneath the lightning flashes and his lips curled back in pain so terrible none could forget the sound of his cracking, clenched fangs. No one dared touch their leader out of abject fear and revulsion. Then, with a widening of eyes and a simple, sick pop, all life fled the old hunter. All was silent for a moment, and even the thunder seemed to pause as gnoll looked to gnoll, knowing that bloodshed always marks the passing of a leader. It was Vaskjaw’s corpse that broke the silence, his broken jaws falling open, spilling the fragments of yellow teeth into the mud. Slowly, from pale lips, crooked legs picked their way out of the dead chief ’s mouth and the opalescent form of a vhagshea—a deadly div blood scorpion—crawled forth into the rain. Shocked, few noticed the naked form of Ahrikvask the Foot Washer, third wife of Vaskjaw, stride from the harem pavilion. At her passing, the mud swirled with blood, fat drops slipping from her long knife and draining from the severed heads of Dhorhaalva and Jhokgral, Vaskjaw’s first and second wives. Standing over the soaked body of the dead old gnoll, Ahrikvask threw her dagger down, impaling the scorpion there. Lifting the still squirming arachnid upon her knife, the gnoll concubine devoured the deadly insect in a swift series of small bites. Looking to the tribe’s eldest members, most skilled hunters, and deadliest warriors, the bloody gnoll threw down the heads of her mistresses and claimed her kill:
“By my venom the feeble have fallen,” she said. “Follow me now, or suffer far worse a death.” With her words, young scorpions crawled from the usurper and the assembled gnolls drew back in fear. None of the Al’Chorhaiv defied their new chieftain.
Symbol: Lengths of intestine hanging from a hyena skull.
Size of Tribe: 46 gnolls and countless scorpions.
Leader: Ahrikvask (NE female gnoll druid 5, rogue 3), a deceptive murderess and master of scorpions who proves immune to most forms of venom.
Notable Members: Isvhag, a Large monstrous scorpion, travels alongside the chieftain, serving as her companion and occasional enforcer; Vamaag (CE female gnoll adept 9), former sacred mother in the service of Lamashtu, silent opponent of the chieftain.
Territory: A nomadic people, the Al’Chorhaiv recognize no territory. They roam anywhere they can find meat, be it giant insect, highlands animal, or that of another other humanoid race. Currently they range through the mountain passes of the Brazen Peaks near Pale Mountain, though they occasionally descend when food grows scarce or to raid.
Lair: The Al’Chorhaiv live in the open and are fearless, thus they have no centralized lair or specific defenses. They’re light sleepers and their watches have served them well enough over the years. Since Ahrikvask’s ascent to chieftain, deadly vhagshea scorpions infest the tribe’s stopping points and frequently aid in warding off intruders.
Society: The Al’Chorhaiv live to serve their mistress Ahrikvask. While life under the tribe’s former chieftains was brutal, fraught with lean times and arbitrary violence, Ahrikvask and her scorpions have ushered in a time of both fear and bounty. Although the infestation of poisonous arachnids unnerves the entire tribe, all can agree that times haven’t been better. Food proves more readily available—even if it is just the meat of giant insects and poisoned beasts—and the other gnoll tribes of the region fear the supposed scorpion-lovers, telling tales of their venomous mistress and the tribe’s immunity to even the most deadly poisons. In addition, Ahrikvask extols faith in a kind of morbid naturalism and the will of savage natural forces. While such faith angers many more traditional members of the tribe who cling to Lamashtu’s perverse tenets, those who have spoken out in the defense of the old ways have been found dead, riddled with stings and leaking deadly venoms.
Service to the Carrion King: The Al’Chorhaiv know much of the land around Pale Mountain, and it’s said that Ahrikvask’s insects bring her news from even farther afield. The Carrion King’s minions regularly come among the Al’Chorhaiv seeking news of the surrounding lands, exotic poisons, and use of their skills as deadly archers and assassins.
Adventure Hook: Vamaag, the former spiritual leader of the Al’Chorhaiv, plots to claim leadership of her tribe. She seeks the most deadly poison in Katapesh or beyond, planning to challenge the tribe’s leader to imbibe it with her. While Vamaag can rely on her magic to cure herself of the poison, Ahrikvask’s strange beliefs should result in the chieftain’s painful death. As the gnoll leader proves strangely immune to most forms of poison, though, Vamaag travels far searching for agents capable of fetching her a deadly—preferably extraplanar—toxin. She willingly pays in gemstone fetishes for venoms that prove their lethality.
Secreted highest upon Pale Mountain lairs the Circle tribe of gnolls, engaged in a sacred duty given to them by the Carrion King himself. Their task is simple: construct the greatest weapon Pale Mountain has ever known for the greater glory of Rovagug. At least, this is what most people believe—no one aside from the Carrion King and his minions knows for certain what the reclusive gnolls are doing up there, and the gnolls themselves do nothing to illuminate their secret plans.
In truth, the gnolls possess little actual engineering, smithing, or arcane talent with which to create anything, much less a weapon of such destructiveness as to please the god of devastation. Instead, they stumbled upon ancient ruins near the mountain top which they now excavate—if “excavate” can be applied to their wanton destruction of an entire slope as they search for an amulet that their leader, the mysterious figure known only as the Witch, claims rests there. The Circle’s scaffolding-strewn dig site led to rumors that the gnolls were constructing something, which the tribe has encouraged.
Symbol: Anything representing a simple circle. The amulet the tribe searches for supposedly looks like a gold disc, which they recreate in their symbol.
Size of Tribe: 38 gnolls, 9 flinds, numerous trained wild dogs, and nearly two dozen slaves of varying races.
Leader: The Witch (LE female human cleric of Rovagug 6), an emissary of the Carrion King and supposed seer of the god of disaster.
Notable Members: Badilur (CE male flind fighter 4), the Witch’s slavemaster and chief enforcer; Lakkickkish (CE male gnoll fighter 3), a cowardly warrior who dreams of finding the treasure his tribe seeks and using it to overthrow the Witch and the Carrion King himself; Purkor (CN male gnoll rogue 3), a scheming gnoll who doesn’t realize he possesses the amulet for which his tribe searches.
Territory: The Circle makes its semi-permanent home high on the slopes of Pale Mountain. Most of the steep slopes the tribe occupies host shallow mines and the ruins of collapsed dig sites.
Lair: Aside from those who must descend the mountain to hunt, the gnolls rarely leave their crude tent village or the deep caves where the Witch performs strange ceremonies in worship of Rovagug. Nearby, a jagged stone palisade surrounds the tribe’s largest dig site, which serves both as workplace and prison for numerous slaves. Patrols of gnolls and their constantly hungry dogs make the rounds of the dig site, eager to catch any prisoner who even looks like he harbors the notion of escaping.
Society: The Circle passes each day digging deeper into the mountainside in search of its prize. All members are somehow involved in the task, whether directly digging, hauling the debris, or supporting the pack by hunting for food. Their awkward, inexpert mining has led to numerous casualties over the course of the past 8 months, including a landslide that killed a dozen tribe members and almost half of the group’s prisoners. Although devoted to finding the deadly arcane amulet she swears lies within the area, the Witch grows more despondent and meditative every day, having expected to discover the relic long ago. That her god has not sent her any new visions in months and kept the nature of the amulet hidden from her has started to undermine her sanity.
Service to the Carrion King: When the Witch appeared before the Carrion King, telling him of their shared faith and her visions of a powerful weapon, the gnoll warlord eagerly granted the strange human the resources she sought to find the unholy relic. Thus the Witch took command of a legion she came to call the Circle. Months have passed since then, and the human’s search has yielded little fruit. The Witch knows the Carrion King’s patience might expire at any moment and fears his warriors coming to claim her head. Thus, every day her demands on her tribe and its slaves become more desperate and hopes to actually discover the amulet grow less unlikely.
Adventure Hook: Months ago, the gnoll Purkor found a hunk of green rock with a sun-like semicircle extending from it. Not knowing what it was but suspecting its value, he hid it away, eager for a chance to trade it to another tribe or flee to Katapesh and sell it there. What Purkor doesn’t know is that within the rock rests the amulet for which his tribe’s leader searches and a power beyond his understanding. When Purkor finally does flee the Circle, the Witch’s agents give chase, following their mistress’s all-too-true delusion that he knows something of the amulet. When Purkor runs into the PCs, he begs for their aid against his former kin, and might even trade them his treasure in exchange for protection.
The barely remembered lore of the Three Jaws tribe speaks of a time when the gnolls were led by three warriors, brothers of peerless skill and savagery among all the tribes. Supposedly the Three Jaws conquered all the gnolls of Pale Mountain, drove the other races from the surrounding Uwaga Highlands, and took hundreds of slaves. How long ago this time of gnoll glory was or how it ended none—not even the Three Jaws—can say. Today, the members of the Three Jaws view themselves as the elite of the local gnoll tribes.
While their skill as warriors and berserkers is impressive, little in the lands or wealth they hold distinguishes them from the other gnolls of Pale Mountain. Only the appearance of Three Jaws warriors sets them apart, the tribe’s members having a long tradition of adorning themselves with trophies and precious ornaments collected from their fallen foes through piercings, skin pockets, and similar painful disfigurement. Their current leader, Hakkur, wears the crown of his father through his shoulder and four bejeweled rings in his face—items many whisper grant him all manner of magic protections.
Symbol: This pack doesn’t bear a standard so much as living “banners” of their tribe. They typically adorn themselves with objects from defeated enemies. Ears are the most heavily pierced, usually with fangs, claws, and bits of weapons seized from fresh kills.
Size of Tribe: 25 gnolls, 11 flinds, 6 goblin slaves, 15 guard hyenas.
Leader: Hakkur (CE male flind barbarian 5), brutal hulking chieftain and slayer of death worms.
Notable Members: Chinew (CE male gnoll barbarian 2), hunt leader and second-in-command; Lakkur (CE female flind barbarian 1, cleric of Rovagug 3), Hakkur’s sister.
Lair: A small collection of huts built by the Three Jaws spans the banks of a cascading feeder stream that runs from the upper reaches of Pale Mountain. Patrols of warriors guard the encampment, while groups of hunters prowl the nearby slopes—the Three Jaws make little distinction between intruders and prey. Within the camp, chief Hakkur makes his home in a grim tent crafted from sewn-together animal pelts and the skins of intruders. To the chieftain’s pride, the skins of his father and younger brother provide the door flaps to his home. Outside, Hakkur keeps the cramped hut of his six remaining goblin slaves. He once had 10, but in the 4 months since the goblins’ capture several have died from the poor conditions, the tantrums of gnoll warriors, and battles they engage in for the chieftain’s entertainment.
Society: Three Jaws life revolves around hunting trophies, with the term “hunting” referring to ambushing and killing any humanoid they encounter—but other gnolls and, in particular, members of the Circle tribe are prized above all. Hakkur organizes daily hunting parties, usually sent forth under the command of the tribe’s second, Chinew. When the Three Jaws discover and murder a beast or foe, they quickly strip the body of its distinctive adornments, fangs or teeth, and weapons. Then, back home, warriors often pierce their bodies with their new trophies.
Treasures: Each warrior of the Three Jaws has precious metals and gems affixed to his body worth a total of about 5 gp. The warriors carry such adornments not as currency but as trophies of their past kills and for the flashy sparkle. Gold teeth or earrings still bearing a scrap of tattered skin make far more impressive trophies than otherwise indistinguishable fangs or fingers.
Service to the Carrion King: Known as deadly warriors, the Three Jaws serve at the forefront of the Carrion King’s legions. Their self-inflicted deformities strike fear in the hearts of their enemies and other tribes of gnolls. When a tribe under the Carrion King’s command displeases him, it’s often a member of the Three Jaws he sends to exact punishment.
Adventure Hook: The Three Jaws tribe has a reputation for savagery and making attacks on non-gnoll communities throughout the Pale Mountain region. In recent months, though—owing to the support offered by the Carrion King—the merciless raiders have become increasingly deadly. While striking back against the gnolls might prove a daunting task, many mercenaries have come to the region to do battle, rumors of the copper and precious jewels the gnolls weave into their flesh inspiring the greed of many sellswords. Unfortunately, the Three Jaws prove dangerously capable of defending their trophies.
Kikkling the Slight killed the pack leader of the Wormhollow tribe—a monstrous flind called Ghaldahag—in his sleep 3 years ago. He quickly claimed that he did so with Lamashtu’s blessing, though since his tribe has joined the ranks of the Carrion King, he claims the assassination was actually Rovagug’s will. In truth, the rest of the pack cared not one way or the other about what god slight and seemingly sickly Kikkling followed, for his rule has proven far less severe and significantly more beneficial than their past leader’s. A toady and false zealot, Kikkling the Slight opportunistically panders to the Carrion King, sending regular, needless tributes to the warlord while seeking out word of other tribes who denounce the worship of the god of wrath. From their cavernous lair—one of the oldest gnoll holdings near Pale Mountain—the Wormhollow gnolls follow Kikkling’s whims, watching for signs of dissension and faithlessness in their fellows.
Symbol: Pyramidal pile of bone-white rocks.
Size of Tribe: 45 gnolls, 4 flinds, 6 gnoll slaves.
Leader: Kikkling the Slight (NE male gnoll rogue 7), deceitful sycophant of the Carrion King.
Notable Members: Korkor (NE male gnoll rogue 3), inquisitor; Sinvew (CE female gnoll ranger 3), stalker and spy; Glos (NE male gnoll cleric of Rovagug 4), eldest faithful of the god of wrath.
Territory: The Wormhollow tribe controls a shallow cave system that winds through the base of Pale Mountain. None outside of this tribe know how deep the caves go, and other tribes believe the caverns bore all the way into the land of the dead. The truth is far less dramatic, but the Wormhollow gnolls enjoy the fear and awe their eerie home lends them. Members of the Wormhollow tribe rarely venture outside the caves except to hunt and spy upon their supposed allies.
Lair: The entrance to the Wormhollow tribe’s domain is the largest cave entrance on Pale Mountain. An opening in the cliffs on the mountain’s lower western slopes bears the crudely sculpted visage of a snarling hyena or gnoll. Within lies a cramped and heavily trapped cavern leading to a constantly manned guard post and the main hall of the Wormhollow tribe. Within this trapped corridor, the gnolls keep two giant solifugid “guard dogs,” huge spider-like desert insects with a hunger for hairless flesh. In the caverns beyond lie numerous chambers, including the cave of Kikkling (high on the wall of the main room) and a large shrine once dedicated to Lamashtu and reconsecrated to Rovagug. Beyond lie caves that wind to hidden escape routes, though one tunnel hides a crevice known only to Kikkling that leads all the way to the Darklands.
Society: The Wormhollow tribe used to be the most secretive of all tribes around Pale Mountain. With the coming of the Carrion King, though, their white-dyed fur and squinty eyes have become synonymous with deception and fanaticism—if not for Rovagug than for the Carrion King himself. Scouts of the Wormhollow tribe regularly make their ways among the disorganized lesser tribes and warbands of their warlord’s horde, seeking to garner their tribe leader’s and the Carrion King’s favor by rooting out the lazy and unfaithful, or simply the weak. Not powerful warriors or great hunters, the Wormhollow gnolls seek to elevate themselves above the other tribes through information, falsehood, and perceived loyalty.
Service to the Carrion King: The Carrion King realizes that Kikkling panders to him, but the praise and tribute pleases him. He also enjoys the fear the Wormhollow tribe provokes in the other tribes, increasing fear of the warlord but deflecting anger and resentment toward Kikkling’s people. The Wormhollow gnolls also possess useful skills as spies and liars, services at which few other gnoll tribes excel and which the Carrion King readily takes advantage of in his deals with distant tribes and keeping tabs on the hordes of the Red Sultana—another gnoll warlord—to the south.
Adventure Hook: The other gnolls have grown tired of the Wormhollow tribe’s endless scrutiny and accusations. Drovoag the Lame was driven from his tribe when Kikkling’s spies accused him of worshiping old demons. He encounters the PCs in their travels and begs for their help in infiltrating the Wormhollow caves, destroying their shrine to Rovagug, and leaving a message that the god is displeased with Kikkling. The gnoll ranger knows a back way into the tribe’s caves, but the way is infested with the eggs of giant solifugids. In return for their aid, Drovoag offers to show the PCs the way to the hidden caves where the Wormhollow tribe stores its ancient treasures.
Along with the larger tribes tenuously united under the bloody banner of the Carrion King, dozen of smaller tribes, warbands, and groups of raiders obey the gnoll warlord’s call. Listed here are but a handful of diverse groups of hunters, murderers, and thieves moved by the Carrion King’s claw.
Al’Vohr’s Hunters: This band of six accomplished gnoll hunters follow the flind Al’Vohr, a living legend in the Pale Mountain region who supposedly single-handedly slew a roc in its sleep and fed upon its eggs—some claim he was a normal gnoll before, and that the experience made him grow into a flind. Al’Vohr and his followers are skilled trackers who enjoy ambushing their prey at night.
The Ghulveis: The remnants of a gnoll tribe of the same name, the Ghulveis were afflicted with a terrible, flesh-wasting disease said to be punishment from Lamashtu for their weak fertility. Now only five gauze-wrapped flinds and a pack of mangy hyenas—who lick their masters’ wounds—remain. The Carrion King employs the leper-like gnolls as threats, sending them among those who displease him.
The Sordaiv: This isolated, inbred tribe of human nomads has long been estranged from the other wanderers of central Katapesh, believing some great wrong was committed against them in the distant past. Numbering no more than 20 ash-robed raiders, these dull-witted but skilled desert trackers now lend their services to the Carrion King.
Wyrmslaves: These 18 gnolls were once of the Al’Drogat tribe, but their people were wiped out by the fat behir Lazzairhage. While the behir claims the gnolls as slaves, several of his servants are considerably more cunning than he is. Thus, the gnolls have convinced him to join in the plots of the Carrion King.