Chapter 587 586 The chiefs of Moss Valley argue for 'not eating fish'
Chapter 587 586. Chiefs of Moss Valley-Added update for the brothers "Little Rag who doesn't eat fish" [2830]
The gnoll clans in the Dark Mountains have always had their own territories. They are territorial creatures and will only rob other clans when they cannot survive.
It is precisely because of this territorial consciousness that has shaped the civilized ecology of the Jackals that it is difficult for them to truly unify, and they still remain in the clan system. The closest era to unification was the Fourth Black Disaster more than a hundred years ago.
Like a god descending from the sky, the legendary King of Bones twisted the entire Gnoll clan into a rope in a very short period of time, and took advantage of the Black Disaster to create a great image for the Gnolls with great victories again and again.
Territoriality is the most basic racial identity.
It was the first time that this civilization had transcended the hatred between clans and the struggle for territory. All the chiefs and warlords were attacking towards the same goal under the command of the Bone-Gripping King.
Facts have proved that the united gnolls are formidable, especially when they are a group of hungry wolves commanded by a lion.
Overturning half of the continent is not the limit of what they can do. If the Bone-gnawing King had been more cautious back then, if it had not hastily divided its forces and caused the arrogant and cruel warlord to burn the elven forest, then the current situation would have been a hundred years later.
It has already changed drastically.
However, each civilization only has so many opportunities to rise, and the gnolls have undoubtedly lost that beautiful and short era.
When the Bone-gnawing King mysteriously disappeared in the Filthy Swamp, this civilization that had just learned to unite fell apart again in a very short period of time.
Although the subsequent guys who claimed to be the "successors of the Bone-Gripping King" also tried their best to imitate the Bone-Gripping King's methods and tried to reunify the tribes, they did not have Philip's skill and strength.
The longest reign was only one year and three months.
After that chaotic period passed, the jackals formed their current situation.
Currently, the five major clans that dominate the Dark Mountains, Bone Gripper, Blood Scar, Whip Tail, Split Claw and Broken Fang, control most of the power of the entire jackal society. The remaining small and medium-sized clans are attached to these five major clans, forming
A crude system similar to a "clan council".
Such a system is certainly far behind the unity of the Bone-Gripping King period, but it is obviously still an improvement compared to the internal conflicts in the past. From this point of view, the departure of the Bone-Gripping King is not a complete loss to the Jackals.
disaster.
They do learn something from their wins and losses.
Not much though.
Under this system, the Bone-gnawing Clan claims to be orthodox. As they inherit the direct lineage of the Bone-gnawing King, they have the most elite barbarians and are the strongest. The Bloodscar Clan is the dependent clan of the Lord of Hunting, and they are the most powerful members of the Jackal Civilization.
The 'priest class' controls most of the hunting priests and religious affairs.
The Whiptail clan is the best hunter, good at domesticating wargs, and controls the richest oasis group in the Dark Mountains.
These are the three most important core clans, and the Splitclaw clan started out as voodoo and are good at using poison. The plague used by the Bone-gnawing King when he overthrew the continent was made by them, because they are both "spell casters".
The Splitclaw clan and the Bloodscar clan are very close and are a "political alliance".
The last of the Broken Tooth Clan is not loved by grandma and not loved by uncle.
The members of their clan live in the most barren area of the Dark Mountains. They are tough, conservative and stubborn. They are unwilling to step out of the Dark Mountains to go to other places, so they are not liked by the King of Bone Grinders.
During the Fourth Black Disaster, other clans went out to eat and drink, but they were left in the Dark Mountains to guard the "ancestral land".
However, because of that horrific failure, not only was the Broken Fang Clan not affected, but they also aggressively integrated many desperate small clans into the chaos that followed the disappearance of the Bone-Gripping King.
They are ranked among the five major clans because they are capable of fighting, have large numbers, and never compromise with other clans.
No one likes the Broken Tooth Clan!
The territory belonging to the Broken Tooth Clan is also the smallest in Mossy Valley, and even other chiefs and governors will not call them when they hold meetings.
This clan is the "marginal" in the gnoll society, and their sense of existence is very low.
Just like when this black disaster started, no one informed the Broken Tooth Clan. Since they want to stay in their ancestral land, let them continue to rot in this damn barren hell.
The main force of the Black Disaster has already set off, but the scale of the Jackals this time is much smaller than that of the Fourth Black Disaster.
The total number of mobilized soldiers is probably close to one million. This situation occurs because this black disaster did not "accord with the weather". Although the foul spiritual energy in the dark mountains has changed, it has not yet formed a tide.
Under this situation, the jackals can barely survive in their own territory. Since they can survive, no one is willing to fight for survival. This directly results in the mobilization orders of the four major clans being unable to penetrate into the grassroots. The jackals who can be shaken over
They are all loyal to their clan.
It seems full of disadvantages, but the chiefs and priests don't see it that way.
They left the Mossy Valley and hid in the big tent left by the Bone-gnawing King every day to discuss their plans, but no one could convince the other.
However, there was a slight disturbance in today's "Chiefs' Meeting". The chief of the Whiptail Clan was late in arriving. It is said that it was delayed by some "little incident" on the front line.
At this time, in the marching formation of the Whiptail clan, Chief Whiptail, who was already old but still held power, was listening to a report from his most trusted hunting warden, Hurley.
This matter was obviously very important, so the chief postponed the conversation with other chiefs.
"Intelligence was sent back from the Black Flame Pass, from a young warlord named Popok Black Eyes. He was the fastest young man to reach the line of defense among the twenty-two scouts we sent, and he was also the first to harvest.
Loser guy."
Hunting Warden Hurley is tall and mighty, and he looks like a ruthless man at first glance. He carries a war spear made from the bones of a thunder lizard and wears a full set of whiptail hunting armor. He is majestic and has a hint of chilling and cruelty at the same time.
It said to its old chief:
"The information that the young man brought back is not optimistic. The defenses at Black Flame Pass are thicker than we thought, and the vampires and their dogs from the Blood Alliance clan are still strengthening it.
Popok said that even with the twelve centuries in its hands, it could not even get close to the position, and was wiped out by a group of Transians on a high ground away from the position.
It described the battle in detail, saying that the Transians were very barbaric and cunning. They built a tower with the heads of their people and planted their flag on the tower of skulls to provoke our scouts.
I suspect this is a delaying tactic to buy time for the final preparations of that line of defense."
"I still remember the cowardly reaction of the Transians when I massacred them. The superior vampires would only hide in their own castles, while the locals, although barbaric, had few strategies and could only rush out recklessly and be beaten by us.
Kill easily.
What that little guy was describing didn't sound like a Transian.
I feel like it's more like the Nords, that group of wilderness warriors whose symbol is the winter wolf.
Well, I suffered a big loss at their hands back then."
Chief Whiptail, who was sitting on a hunting throne made from the skulls of various tribes, made a disdainful snort. This old jackal who had conquered the continent with the Bone-Gripping King had obviously broken through the lifespan limit in some way.
It's really old.
He is even older than the former flesh-tearer, and his eyes are as cloudy as a walking zombie. However, no one dares to underestimate this old guy who will fall down when he walks.
Although in the eyes of the jackals, such an old guy has no power at all, the governors of the Whiptail Clan know that the Whiptail Clan's rapid rise after the failure of the Fourth Black Disaster all relied on the old chief's strength.
Manipulate secretly.
It is the soul and core of the Whiptail clan, just like the status of the Bonegnasher King to all gnolls.
The old chief was silent for a moment and said:
"Is that Popock trustworthy?"
The hunting warden immediately replied:
"That is a typical young man, a chief, savage and violent, who worships the King of Bone Grinders and is not good at thinking. He responded immediately after we issued the call. He did not have the brains to make up such a lie, but his father is cunning.
character of.
The Black-Eye Clan is no longer a small clan, but this time they only sent 500 elite members to join us under the pretext of a clan separation, which is far from the 2,000 elite members we requested.
And in addition to Popok, other scouts we sent also sent back similar news.
Compared to the Black Flame Pass that was leveled by the Bone-Gnawer King more than a hundred years ago, today's defense line is like a combination of a ferocious hedgehog and the Mirror Lake Dragon Turtle. If you want to eat it, you have to have good teeth and a good appetite.
.
As for the provocation of those Transians, it is not a big deal in my opinion.
They did erect skull towers to humiliate us in this way, but they don't even need the elite whiptail clan to dispatch, just the thousands of scouts wandering on the front line are enough to defeat them."
The old chief nodded.
But it did not answer immediately, but fell silent. This silence made the warlord think that his chief was asleep. Well, this is a problem when people get old, and this embarrassing situation has not happened before.
The chief is too old.
Although when he followed the King of Bones, he was just a reckless and savage little boy like Popok. He was lucky enough to learn something from the King of Bones, but now he is over a hundred years old.
Already.
That is the age when you should have gone to the grave long ago.
"You can fight, but it's not necessary."
After dozens of seconds of thinking, the old chief stood up with the help of two jackal hunting masters. He walked tremblingly in front of his most valued warlord and whispered to Hurley:
"I have a message for you. The Whiptail Clan is not going to Transia this time. We are going to follow King Bonegnasher to the Brass Fortress, so there is no need to waste our people in the Black Flame Pass. However, the gesture must be done.
For the sake of 'unity'.
Go there yourself!
Take ten centurions under your command as the core, don't take more than that, and then gather the scouts nearby to destroy the positions of the Transians and open up the road to the Black Flame Pass.
But you have to remember, just do this step!
You are the representative of the Whiptail Clan in the direction of Transia. You must cooperate with the Splitting Claw Matron to complete the occupation of Black Flame Pass and the advance towards Transia.
But remember to protect yourself if things don't go your way.
If there is news from the Brass Fortress, you can rush to join me. If there is no news, you can go back to our territory, where I have left an army.
You will lead them."
"Um?"
The hunting warden looked at his chief in surprise.
Although there are few jackals who are good at thinking, those who can sit in the position of high-ranking warlord have some brains.
It immediately heard other flavors from the chief's words, but the old chief did not explain too much and just said briefly:
"This black disaster is different from the past. Although the main body is still a jackal, it only looks like that. I personally do not intend to consume all the elite tribesmen on this kind of thing. After all, we have to prepare for the psychic power in more than ten years.
Be prepared when the tide does come.
That was the moment that decided life and death. To put it bluntly, the one more than ten years later was the real "fifth black disaster."
Just remember my words, put your own safety first in everything."
"Um."
The hunting warden asked no more questions and watched his chief leave with a respectful attitude. Then he immediately executed the order. Almost at the same time that Chief Whiptail arrived at King Bonegnasher's camp, a group of elite hunters with great momentum also arrived.
He left this large camp and rushed towards the Black Flame Pass.
The Transians are in trouble.
Facing the whiptail clan's most capable military governor, that small highland might be destroyed in a few days. However, in the face of such a major event as the Black Disaster, the gains and losses of a small highland are really not worth mentioning.
When the old chief Whiptail entered the camp tremblingly with a bone cane, the chiefs and warlords of the other three big clans were discussing specific strategies.
This is not to say that the jackals launched a black disaster as soon as they got mad. Although they were reckless, they were also methodical. The only thing they could not determine at the moment was the direction of the main attack.
The old chief sat slowly in his seat.
It seemed to be dozing off, but this was just a cunning trick of the cunning old man. In fact, it knew as well as a mirror.
According to the "advanced experience" of the King of Bone Grinders, if you want to get results, it is absolutely right to go to Transia. That cowardly place has been ravaged by the Black Disaster four times, and each time it was the first place to be defeated and attacked. The chiefs
The map of Transia in his hand is even more detailed than the map of the Blood Vulture Clan.
But this black disaster is different after all.
It is not a life-and-death battle for food and survival rights, it is a war with a purpose!
"We must go to the Brass Fortress!"
The owner of this camp, Gehrman Bone-gnawing King, the contemporary great warlord of the Bone-gnawing clan, roared in a rough voice:
"The failure of the Bone-gnawing King and the previous three Black Disasters have proven that we may gain an advantage by going to Transia, but we will also be directly attacked by the two most powerful human nations. We cannot pass the method of failure.
Get victory.
But if we can capture the Brass Fortress, then the most prosperous peninsula on the continent will open its door to us.
Looting there will allow the Gnolls to rise quickly, and the terrain of the Genoa Peninsula will be more suitable for defense. We can transfer the tribe there, and in this way, the hunger problem that has plagued the Gnolls for nearly a thousand years will also be solved."
"Don't be stupid, Hermann!"
Wearing a voodoo hood, Matron Potana of the Splitting Claw scolded in a cold tone:
"We can't pry open the door of the Brass Fortress even if you and all the troops we have at hand are thrown in. Those dwarves have turned an entire mountain into a wall to stop us. If you can move that mountain.
We have been struggling with this stupid issue for the past few days, and I have had enough of your stubbornness! I have made up my mind, I will take my clan and my army to the Black Flame Pass!
you
You can go wherever you like."
"Portana! Calm down, we must unite"
The old chief Whiptail said something at the right time.
It's like echoing when someone wakes up from a nap, full of the decadent atmosphere and clichés that an old man should have.
The equally old but still very shrewd and cunning Mistress Splitclaw didn't even bother to respond to this call, but she spoke her true thoughts, which caused a strange silence in the camp that had been arguing over the past few days.
The seemingly rough-looking Gehrman Gnaw and the chosen priest of the Bloodscar clan looked at each other. The two gnolls exchanged glances calmly, and finally the priest of the Bloodscar clan stood up and said:
"Well, since the Splitclaw clan has to shoulder the heavy responsibility of attacking Transia on its own, I won't hide it anymore. The reason why we must go to the Brass Fortress is very simple. You should have heard some rumors recently.
News about our God
News that the great Lord of the Hunt is about to be born."
These words made all the chiefs and high-ranking warlords widen their eyes. Even the old chief Whiptail became energetic, and all eyes were focused on the Bloodscar Priest.
It paused deliberately, and then said in a more serious tone:
"We deliberately released that news, and it is true! My god already has entities in the subspace and the star realm, and now we only need to ignite the divine fire to ascend to the throne of God! This process is very complicated, but you can simply understand it as
Our soldiers will fight within the clergy of the Lord of the Hunt.
Hunting, slaughter and war!
We must do these three points to provide sufficient faith power for our God.
This is why the Brass Fortress must be attacked.
Only there can our soldiers fight to their heart's content and create horrific wars. The Transians are too weak. They appear to be barbaric, but in fact they collapse at the first touch and cannot provide the power we need.
Chief Herman's words are not wrong either.
We couldn't capture the Brass Fortress before because the dwarves had their own gods protecting the mountain, but as long as our gods are born, it's just a Brass Fortress.
The soldiers of the Bloodscar clan will obey the command of the Bone-gnawing King this time, and the priests and I will stay in the Mossy Valley to complete the ceremony of lighting the sacred fire.
Do you have any more questions?"
There was dead silence in the camp, and everyone was overwhelmed by the news that a god was about to be born. The jackals faced the same problem as the vampires. Although they had the name of a god on their lips, they all knew that it was just a lie.
Just provide a kind of psychological comfort.
But now, the fake is about to become real.
"We will definitely capture the Brass Fortress this time!"
Gehrman Bonegnasher stood up. This big jackal, who was very similar to the Bonegnasher King and even stronger than the Bonegnasher King, pounded the table and roared:
"The wealth and power that the dwarves and halflings have accumulated for countless years will belong to us! What the Bone-Gripping King failed to do will be accomplished by our own hands! Everyone, under our leadership, the jackals who have been lost for a thousand years will
