The Mushroom Press Design Blog

 Lots of cobwebs around here

Loooots of cobwebs.

But hey.... It's Halloween. Cobwebs are appropriate.

We're talking about Gnolls today. Or, as I like to call them, Hyena-men.

I mean, which sounds scarier? Gnoll:

Hyena-man:

You get the picture.

I always found packs of Hyenas to be eerie. That might be a consequence of so much footage of them being shot at night. There's something very "cryptid" about those eyes reflecting the spotlight.

 There's also something about their nature as pack animals (and scavengers) that robs them of the dignity that animals like Tigers have. Something about their hunched backs and shaggy pelts, like walking vultures. They've got an uncomfortable facial similarity to dogs, too; something too close to the familiar but dangerous because of its distance from civility. The animal equivalent to a stranger glimpsed by the light of a streetlamp in a bad part of town.

So Hyenas themselves are a wonderful blend of savage and eerie. But Gnolls? Eh, they kinda fall flat with me. Their officially-licensed, sterilized, brand-specific versions are always limp. Pathfinder Gnolls are... Just another version of Pathfinder Orcs, basically. Their entry is functional and punctual, like it's in an interview for stooge monster. 

The current D&D Gnolls seem to be under review to determine if they were secretly a racist caricature all along and I'll leave that to those whose needs are served by it. As for me, I only care about the fun parts of D&D Gnolls.

So let's talk about what rules about them. In Bullet-point form, the superior format:

• Origins involve combining an already scary animal with a demon-god's rampage
• Offer no redeeming value, only rapacious and bloodthirsty, so there's 0 moral compunction about fighting and killing them
• No half-gnolls, no weird in-game ghettos, just straight-up invasive monster killin' fun. Good for the whole family
• Reproduce by cursing their foe's bodies; when a hyena eats them, they become a Gnoll

I basically love everything about that. But I say we take it a step further, And I'm gonna do that by fleshing out the psychology of the Gnolls. Or, rather, hollowing it out.

Let me introduce another Hasbro-property that I adore, good ol' Scragnoth:

I pulled this guy from a Tempest booster pack when I was a teenager (this one is some kind of reprint I guess? It doesn't matter. Magic is crack) and I loved that flavor text: "Only counter-intelligence" hmm? I liked thinking about that; what kind of being had retorts, but no point? They'd have complaint with no critique, reaction with no thought. They could mock and imitate, but would have no capacity to create.

Man, how weird would THAT kind of being be, amirite?

Pictured: a totally unrelated message board

Our entire culture became Gnolls at some point, but for a little bit, the pack was confined to cramped and squalid places on the internet. Places where there were dozens or hundreds of stock meme-responses to any question, any statement, any kind of original content. Places that catered to a culture of clannish anti-thought, where the assumptions of how things were became the laws of how they must be. Where hot-takes were more valued than genuine engagement. Where an appeal to conventional wisdom was more valid than actual observation, experiment, or innovation.

A place without intelligence; only counter-intelligence.

Such are my Gnolls. Not just scavengers of mortal things, but ontological scavengers. Beings for which originality isn't just a sin, it's literally incomprehensible. They don't need social sanctions to deal with rabble-rousers who dare to shift away form the group-think; they don't even have group "think", their very minds are mirrors, pure reaction. A social survival instinct but never, ever any thought.

And then of course, you have that most famous hyena trait: their laughter.

 

Laughter and mockery have a tandem, defensive social function: they degrade an idea. Divorced from thought, they function in the same way, like antibodies; they recognize an invader, absorb it, change it into something that is no longer a threat. 

Scavenged armor, scavenged weapons, scavenged voices. These Gnolls don't have speech, they steal the voices of their victims, communicating solely in the dying words of prey followed by vicious, empty laughter. they're heard before they're seen

If Gnolls are encountered as wandering monsters, after determining encounter distance and surprise, roll on the following chart to determine what the party hears as the Gnolls approach. The voices are from previous victims, and sound exactly like these unfortunates in their last moments.

What do they hear? (d12)

1. "I thought I heard something..."
2. "My baby! My baby!"
3. "Let go of me!"
4. "Please don't!" Followed by a cry of pain
5. Inarticulate shrieking
6. "Die monster!"
7.  Begging in a foreign language; sobs
8. "Help! Somebody help!"
9. "Let go of him!"
10.  A warcry that abruptly cuts off into a gurgle
11. I don't want to die I don't want to die I don't want to die"
12. Weeping, then a cry of pain

On a d6 roll of 5+, this will be followed by the mindless laughter of the entire pack.

Every round the Gnolls continue to fight, roll again on this chart as they babble and laugh through the battle.

Memetic Instince: Gnoll packs absorb the voices of those they hear. If the players say anything in-character, one of the Gnolls present will say the same thing, in their voice on their action. this will elicit the laughter of the rest of the pack.

Replace one of the results from the above chart with the stolen quote.

Sculpt by Anastasia Konkina, Based on a concept by Ilya Komarowski

Gnolls are commonly manipulated by powerful, evil creatures such as mindlfayers and liches, as they eventually become a reflection of their environment. A sufficiently cunning dark lord can engineer the Gnoll's parasitic culture to serve their ends.

Commonly, such packs have Hyena Diplomats that are able to speak and communicate (after a fashion) via a Helm of Comprehend Languages soldered to their skulls. Hyena Diplomats have an additional hit die, wear scavenged robes and aristocratic clothing, and tend toward the twitchy and socially obscene. They still interject inappropriate laughter into conversation and treat any original thoughts, social mores or ethics as a hilarious and slightly pitiable joke. Their weapons are invariable concealed, poisoned, and only brandished when the Diplomat sees no further use for their latest mark.