#gnoll fiction

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Gnoll/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 2,919 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

When you're convinced to go on a blind date with an asshole, Adamu saves you from a sticky situation. As it turns out, you'd rather go out with him anyway.

Outside the restaurant, the city's ambient buzz mingled with your own whirl of anticipation and nerves. The cool evening air did little to soothe the flutter of excitement in your stomach as you approached the restaurant's entrance, a quaint spot chosen by Eirik for your blind date.

Stepping inside, the warm glow and soft murmur of conversation enveloped you. The hostess greeted you with a welcoming smile, and you found your voice slightly trembling as you mentioned, "I’m here to meet - I mean, table for Karl?."

"Oh, you must be Eirik's friend! He mentioned a blind date," the waitress exclaimed brightly. She seemed genuinely enthused about the setup, a sentiment you wished you could fully share at the moment.

As she led you through the restaurant, the clinking of cutlery and low hum of diners' chatter accompanied your steps. The waitress stopped at a cosy table for two, where a man was seated, his back to you.

As she announced your arrival, he turned around, and you were met with a young face and a mess of curly, dark hair. Karl was undeniably handsome, with sharp features, a well-groomed beard, and eyes that seemed to appraise you in a single glance. His smile was confident, almost rehearsed, as he stood to greet you.

"Ah, you must be the mystery woman Eirik has been raving about," Karl said, his voice smooth, his handshake firm. There was a charm about him, no doubt, but it felt somewhat polished, a little too perfect.

As you took your seat, the nervous flutter in your stomach intensified. You smoothed out your dress, trying to appear composed, though inside, your nerves were a tangled mess. The idea of a blind date, already daunting, now felt even more so with Karl's poised demeanour.

The waitress, still beaming, handed you the menus, wishing you a good evening before leaving. You offered her a grateful smile, her enthusiasm a small comfort for your nerves.

"So, Eirik tells me you're quite the adventurer," Karl began, leaning back in his chair with ease. “Have you been to the alps? I have; there I was, standing at the summit of the Alps, the world beneath my feet. It's quite the rush, you know?"

You nodded and the first bubble of excitement welled in you. "That sounds incredible. I've always wanted to try mountain climbing. Last year, I..."

Karl, however, swiftly steered the conversation back to himself, barely acknowledging your input. "Yes, it's an experience of a lifetime. Then, when you lead the lifestyle I do, these things become somewhat routine."

As Karl delved into another self-centred anecdote, your attention drifted across the restaurant. There, at a table set for two, sat a young gnoll man. His dark fur contrasted strikingly with his bright green eyes, which stared at his glass of wine. His muscular build suggested strength, yet there was a patience about him as he checked his watch, clearly waiting for someone.

Your gaze lingered, intrigue. It was a welcome distraction from the one-sided conversation at your table.

Karl, noticing your diverted attention, cleared his throat pointedly. "I'm sorry, am I boring you?"

You snapped back to reality, meeting Karl's eyes, which now held a flicker of annoyance. "No, not at all. Please, go on," you said, though the sincerity in your voice waned.

Karl huffed, his demeanour shifting. "You know, when someone takes the time to share their experiences, the least you could do is pay attention."

The sharpness in his tone took you aback. The evening, already teetering on the edge of disappointment, had taken a turn for the worse. "I'm sorry, Karl. I just noticed someone across the restaurant. I didn't mean to seem disinterested."

Karl's response was a curt, "Well, perhaps you'd prefer their company then."

The air between you grew tense, the remnants of the evening's potential dissipating with each passing second. "I think I need a moment," you said, standing abruptly. "I'll be in the bathroom. If the waitress comes back, could you ask her to give us a few more minutes to decide?"

You couldn’t have left fast enough. The walk to the bathroom felt like an escape, each step a respite from the stifling atmosphere at the table. Inside, you took a moment to gather your thoughts, the disappointment of the evening weighing heavily on you. Eirik's well-intentioned setup had spiralled into an evening you couldn't wait to forget.

When you returned, bracing yourself for more of Karl's self-absorption, you found his seat empty. Confused, you glanced around, half-expecting to see him returning from a break of his own; but he was gone. The only evidence of his presence was the menu, left at the edge of the table.

You sat, a flush of embarrassment warming your cheeks. You tried to compose yourself as the waitress approached with a concerned look. "Can I get you a drink?" she asked, her gaze flickering to the empty seat.

You offered a small, somewhat sheepish smile, "uh, no thanks. Honestly, I think I should just head home. Maybe I’ll have just one..."

The waitress nodded, her expression softening with understanding, before leaving you to peruse the drinks menu. The bustling ambiance of the restaurant suddenly felt more pronounced, each laugh and clink of glasses echoing your own discomfort.

As you deliberated over your choice, a tentative voice interrupted your thoughts. "Excuse me, would you mind some company?"

Looking up, you saw the gnoll from across the restaurant standing beside your table, a hint of apprehension in his green eyes. Up close, you could see the intricate patterns of scars beneath his dark fur, tugging down the corner of his left eye. Yet, his posture was unassuming, almost gentle, as if he were trying to make his formidable presence seem less intimidating.

"I, uh, couldn't help but notice... It seems we've both been stood up," he added, his voice tinged with a shyness.

Surprised but touched by his gesture, you found yourself nodding, "Take a seat. It's been quite the evening."

He took the seat across from you, his movements careful, mindful of the space he occupied. Together, you ordered cocktails, a silent attempt to salvage what remained of the night.

As the drinks arrived, the initial awkwardness gave way to tentative conversation. Sipping a martini, you asked, “why did you come over? It's not every day that someone does something so kind."

He paused, his gaze lingering on his drink before meeting yours. "Well, I suppose I didn’t want both of our nights to be wasted. I thought, maybe, we could turn them into something a bit more... bearable, together."

His honesty, coupled with the softness in his expression, struck a chord in you. Here was someone who, despite his own discomfort, had reached out with an offer of companionship. It was painfully sweet.

You watched him above your menu, unable to hide your smile. Maybe tonight wasn’t a total loss. "How about gaeng som?" you suggested, “I’m pretty sure they make it extra spicy here.”

His eyes lit up with interest. "That sounds perfect! Back home, the hotter the meal, the better."

You smiled, pleased with the common ground you'd found. The waitress took your order, and as you waited for the food, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

"Not that I was listening in earlier, but I heard something about the alps?" he asked, his eyes curious. "There's something about exploring the unknown, the challenge of a steep climb, I just love it."

You nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. There's a trail I've been eyeing for the next weekend. It's supposed to offer some of the best views of Oceanhall."

“Yeah, I know the one! I’ve never gotten around to it, though. I- wait, hold on.” You were sure that beneath his fur, he was blushing. “I'm Adamu, by the way, I guess I forgot to say. Tonight was actually supposed to be a meetup with someone I met online."

His expression clouded slightly, a hint of disappointment creeping in. "I wonder if she saw me and... well, decided against it. I know my appearance can be a bit... daunting?"

You shook your head, the notion absurd to you. "I think you look lovely. If you really did scare her off, it's’ her loss."

His face softened at your words, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Thank you," he said, his voice laced with a newfound warmth. "I know I’m an acquired taste.”

You smiled softly, reaching out to take his hand. It wasn’t a secret that gnolls had a reputation for being intimidating. Rude. Violent, even; but when you met Adamu’s gaze, there was a softness there that made you melt.

Whatever you were about to say, though, was cut off when the waitress arrived with your steaming hot food. “Two portions of gaeng som,” she announced cheerfully. “Can I get you anything else?”

You didn’t remove your hand from Adamu’s as you ordered another round of drinks. He didn’t pull away either, though, and you found yourself warmed by his coarse fur.

He only tugged his hand free when it was time to eat, and you missed the tickle of his fur and claws against your palm. You ate in silence for a moment; content to be in each other’s quiet company.

Eventually, Adamu's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what actually happened to your date? He left pretty suddenly."

You paused, a spoonful of soup halfway to your lips. The memory of Karl's abrupt departure brought a stutter of relief. "Well, let's just say we weren't exactly a match. If I'm honest, I'm quite glad he left."

Adamu raised an eyebrow, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, why?"

You met his gaze, the connection between you palpable. "Because if he hadn't, I wouldn't have had the pleasure of your company, Adamu."

Adamu's smile widened, a look of contentment settling on his features. “Oh. That’s… actually really kind.”

In the warmth of the restaurant, with the lingering heat of the soup still dancing on your tongue, you found yourself caught in Adamu's gaze. The soft, ambient light of the room cast gentle shadows across his features, softening the scars and highlighting the soft brown of his fur.

There was an undeniable pull, a desire to lean across the table and bridge the gap between you with a kiss. Yet, you hesitated, the weight of nerves holding you back. You didn't want to rush, to shatter this delicateness between you.

Adamu seemed to sense the shift in your mood, his voice drawing you back. "I wasn't entirely sure about moving to Oceanhall," he admitted, his tone reflective. "It was a leap of faith, really. I needed a change of pace, something different from what I was used to."

You nodded, understanding the sentiment all too well. "Sometimes, that's exactly what we need."

He smiled. "I'm glad I made the move. Especially now," he added, his gaze holding yours.

The remainder of the meal passed in a comfortable quiet, punctuated by shared glances and soft laughter. It was as if the world beyond your table had faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

When the waitress came by to inquire about dessert, you both scanned the menu, settling on sharing mango sticky rice. The sweet, creamy texture of the rice, paired with the fresh, tangy mango and the rich coconut sauce, promised a perfect end to the meal.

Adamu's earlier admission echoed in your mind as you ate, blending seamlessly with your own feelings. Oceanhall, with its beautiful beach and multiples cultures, was exactly the kind of place to get away from the drag of real life issues.

When the waitress returned to collect your plates, her knowing smile was directed at you. “I hope you both had a good time,” she said. “Can I get you anything else?”

You couldn't help but return her smile, a sense of gratitude swelling in your heart.

“Just the bill please,” Adamu said, before you could ask for the same.

As the waitress disappeared to retrieve your bill, she left you alone with Adamu. You became acutely aware of the details you hadn't fully absorbed before—the way the low lighting played off the contours of his muscular build, his broad shoulders straining against his grey shirt. The gentle curve of his smile made you flush too, more pronounced as his initial shyness melted away.

You found yourself openly admiring him, taking in the rugged handsomeness that his scars only seemed to accentuate, not diminish. There was a raw, authentic beauty to him, and it made your toes curl.

Adamu caught you looking, a flicker of self-consciousness crossing his features. "It's the scars, isn't it?" he asked softly.. "They don’t hurt. I sometimes forget they're there until I see that look in someone's eyes."

Your heart clenched at the thought of him feeling any discomfort, especially when, to you, he was nothing short of captivating. "No, Adamu, it's not the scars," you said softly, earnestly. "I was actually.. You’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?"

The air between you thickened with the admission, a warm blush colouring your cheeks. Adamu's gaze held yours, a mixture of surprise and something deeper flickering within his eyes.

"Thank you," he said after a moment, the tension in his shoulders visibly relaxing. "I’ve had them since I was a kid - boating accident. My fur hides the worst of it, at least."

His soft voice, the twinkle in his eyes, it made you want nothing more than to grab him by the collar, and kiss him. The space around you seemed to pulse with the unspoken attraction that had been simmering beneath the surface all evening.

Adamu leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a huskier tone that sent shivers down your spine. "I knew tonight was going to be great as soon as I sat across from you."

The confession, so openly shared, fanned the flames of your own desire. The thought of being close to him, so close you could smell the sugar on your breath, made you shudder.

As the waitress returned with the bill, breaking the spell momentarily, Adamu's gaze lingered on you, loaded with unspoken questions. Once the bill was settled, he turned to you with a hesitant yet hopeful look.

"I don't want this evening to end just yet," he said, his voice laced with a quiet intensity. "Would you... would you like to come back to my place?"

The invitation hung in the air, a tantalizing promise of more. The thought of spending more time with Adamu was irresistible.

“I would love to.”

As you stood to leave, Adamu, ever the gentleman, assisted you with your coat, his hands brushing against yours in a fleeting, electric touch. The restaurant's warm ambiance gave way to the night's chill as you stepped outside, the sudden drop in temperature making you instinctively draw closer to him for warmth.

Noticing your shiver, Adamu gently draped his own coat over your shoulders, enveloping you in its warmth and the subtle scent that was uniquely his. It was like sweet mango and cinnamon, and something rich you couldn’t place.

The gesture, so simple yet intimate, stirred something deep within you, heightening the anticipation of what was yet to come.

The streets were quiet, the city's nighttime serenade a soft backdrop to your shared silence. The proximity to Adamu, his coat wrapped around you, created a cocoon of warmth in the cold night air. It was in this intimate bubble that Adamu stopped, turning to face you, his bright eyes searching yours in the dim light.

The tension between you was a tangible force that seemed to draw you closer. Then, almost as if it were the most natural thing in the world, your lips met in a kiss that was both tentative and desperate, a mingling of warmth and want that sent sparks flying through your very being.

The kiss was imperfect—the slight awkwardness of human lips meeting a gnoll's muzzle—but it only made you want him more. Neither of you cared for symmetry when the kiss deepened, fueled by the pent-up desire and the night's earlier revelations.

As you parted, breathless, Adamu's shy smile returned, a hint of his earlier awkwardness peeking through. "I, uh, live just a short walk from here," he said, his voice a soft rumble. "Would you like me to call a taxi?"

The thought of parting, even just to sit side by side in a taxi, seemed unthinkable. "I'd much rather walk with you," you replied, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart.

He beamed. “Yeah? Great, me too.”

The walk to Adamu's home was a blur of shared smiles and soft laughter, the earlier kiss lingering like a promise between you. The walk was brisk, quick, your hand nestled in his the entire time. Soon enough you were stood outside a little wooden gate, looking up at a narrow townhouse, garden blooming with wildlife.

Adamu paused at the gate, turning to you once more. The streetlight cast a soft glow around him, illuminating the gentle lines of his face.

In that soft light, you shared another kiss, this one laden with the promise of more to come. It was a seal on the unspoken agreement that tonight was just the beginning.

“Come on inside,” he said, tugging your hand.

With a grin, you followed him inside.

[chaoskirin]

ARE YOU READY?

[asaltyrat]

Tools of the Trade - Gnolbard’s Request

Wood smoke filled the forest clearing. The mixed scent of a warm fire and a savory meal had started to work its way through the still wind. There, sat in the center, next to the crackling fire was the impossibility of a Gnollish woman, dressed in proper clothing made of flax and cotton rather than furs and rawhide, as was against tradition. She sat there, tending the fire, turning a fat haunch of meat on a spit.

It was a particularly fatty piece of meat. Poorly marbled, badly butchered, but the Gnoll didn’t care. A Gnoll is many things. Resourceful, creative, crafty. Nothing would be wasted, Not the drippings falling from the meat, into a earthenware bowl that sat nestled in the warm ashes, nor the animal’s gut, that the woman had taken off the hands of the butcher who, otherwise, would have thrown them into the refuse pile with the rest of the day’s remnants. She was familiar with spiced offal, but this wasn’t the day for it. Too little salt, not enough herbs. It had been set to dry over the cooler part of the fire.

At her side, on a lain out cloth, was a fine wooden mandolin. It was hard worked but lovingly cared for. Imperfect, where the worn spots where the varnish had worn away from a tender grip turned the tan fine grain into a pale divot. It laid there, missing one of the thinnest strings on the fret. The Gnoll never learned the names of these notes. They never felt right in her head. Single letters didn’t give the sound and song any meaning that she could come to grips for. To feel in her heart. Her mentor only called the thing string ‘Like a songbird’. A light, sweet tone.

The Bard loved that note the most, oft plucking it with the tip of her smallest finger’s claw as she drummed on the body or idly sat in mead halls and taverns while waiting her turn to perform. That loving attention netted it one too many plucks, haphazard against her sharp claw. It was an unfortunate reality that gut string only lasted so long. And now, it was time for her to do her duty. A mixture of somber feelings of guilt and elation that she had the chance to show her beloved treasure the care and attention it deserved.

And so she began to sing. Jaunty and quiet. Equal parts in celebration in tempo to the tone of a lullaby.

Over the hills and through the dale,

We lift upon our silver vales,

A song oft sung apart.~

Carefully she took the sinew and gut from the spit, pliable and dry. Deft fingers tied it to the base of the metal spit, and she began to stretch it, first in sections, then as a whole.

When the sun is come

And until the day is done

We lift the song alone.~

Her voice lifted some. The worry that the gut would snap as it drew thinner passed, and she grasped the fiber between her sharp teeth, behind her longer canines, and dragged it to tear away lingering meat and coarse fat. Between those nips and drags, she continued her song.

A hard day’s work nets silver-and-gold

An evening spent, merchant’s haul sold

And never a night so-cold~

She was happy with her work, with the gut stripped to a proper string, she paused to replace the broken note, she made her treasure complete. Trimming and tuning, twisting the string taut until she heard that familiar songbird, testing it on that same claw that had snapped it earlier in the day. Then came the polishing.

A light rag was dipped into the animal fat coming from her meal for the evening, and gentle as she could, began to buff the wooden surface of her instrument. She cared not to rewind time, to restore it back to the glory it once was. But to give her beloved a glossy sheen, to keep the water and dust off for a time. It glimmered in the firelight, reflected her pearly smile, a satisfied grin that game with a truly warmed heart. Her friend was whole, and she expected no thanks in return.

In reality, she was quietly thanking the mandolin for its time, its patience, and its trust to come back to her. It was settled back on her lap, a few careful plucks to test it. She began her song anew.

This time, they sung together, her beloved tittering songbirds playing along the toads and the frogs and the joyful beating of her palm along the wooden body. As joyful as any long coming reunion between friends, as if they were never apart.

Over the hills and through the dale

We lift upon our Silver Vales

A song oft sung apart~

And when sun has come

And until the day is done

We lift this song along~

A hard day’s work nets silver-and-gold

An evening spent, a merchant’s haul sold

And never a night so-cold~

Travelers come from down the road

To sing and dance, unite, unfold

To ale and glee once more~

Never too-long the dawn has come

And til we meet, our work is done

We sing our long farewell~

Never to sad, we’ll meet again

When firelights shine, our heads will spin

‘Neath our Silver Vales~

The moon had creeped out from behind the forest canopy, casting a cool light that barely pushed into the campfire’s glow. Her mandolin was placed back on that spread cloth to keep it from the dirt and ash of her home away from home, and she turned to her dinner.

A Gnoll is many things. Caring, Stubborn, Careful. She is Resolute, Crafty, and Loving.

And for now, with her task done, and care shown to her beloved? A Gnoll is hungry.

[bat-in-the-machine]

Gnoll

Prologue

Sometimes, people ask me what it was like to be there. To be standing there, commanding soldiers and mages, as the tallest building of the wealthiest, most powerful realm in all the known lands exploded, marble and gold showering down on the capitol, a tremendous beast standing, hunched over, snarling, in the spot where the tower had once been.

I remember looking up at the giant gnoll and thinking This is what victory looks like. A force of nature tearing through walls like paper.

I don't like the question, though. People look at the fall of the Ameran Empire as an event. A Thing That Happened. But the battle in the Imperial capitol was the end of the war.

I couldn't really say where and when it began. I can tell you how I got involved, and when. Terrelia says the war began before the Empire was ever founded, in a world full of smoke and steel, and I have no reason to doubt her.

So I'll tell you how I got involved, and how she got involved, and we'll pick up the rest of the story as we go along, much like we did at the time.

It started with a job posting in a small farming village near the Kellian plains, a handful of miles from the migratory route of the southern behemoth herds.

It started with a dairy farmer and her closest friend, and with a young druid in need of a few gold to fill her belly.

[beedok]

My trans isekai story has updated, with chapter 4 up on Scribblehub. Emily and Aara have set out on their mission, while Emily remembers the life she left behind.

(And, for those excited to read more, chapters 5 and 6 are available on my patreon: https://www.patreon.com/beedok )

[tlaquetzqui]

Oh, good, turns out no need for gnolls to have long necks: all the evolutionary reasons for hyenas’ long necks go away when you’re a biped.

[tragedybunny]

Hey there, saw you were so short requests for Astarion. I'll make it short and simple for ideas. How about either; autistic-coded, plus size or shorter! Tav relationship with Astarion headcanon ideas?

Thanks for the ask. I decided to go with autistic Tav since I actually have an idea for a plus size Tav rolling around my idea doc.

Astarion x Autistic GN!Reader Headcanons

Astarion is so pretty, he intimidates you. You’ve always been an outsider, and the people that put you down the most are always the pretty, perfect, definitely not weird people. 

Despite this, you start to find him nice enough, even letting him feed on you. 

When Astarion starts flirting with you, you absolutely do not notice, much to his frustration.

When he eventually bluntly asks you for sex, it makes you so sad. Being the town oddball, you’re used to being propositioned as a joke. You quietly turn him down and decide Astarion isn’t your friend after all. 

You keep feeding him though when he needs it. Mostly because you’re not sure how to tell him about how it made you feel.

Astarion is stunned you turned him down, sure you haven’t been responsive to his flirting, but you get along well enough. And he’s afraid, you need to be on his side since everyone looks up to you. 

He tries to flirt a few more times, but he finds it hurts a little more each time you don’t reciprocate. Even worse, he starts thinking about how nice it would be if you did, even if it was just a smile thrown his way. 

It’s so confusing, he stops even feeding from you, worried one night he’ll ask to just stay, to be allowed to even be in your presence for a few hours. 

You’re always so quiet and reserved around him, but he starts to notice how there’s certain people you just bloom around. Karlach for example, you seem to have no problem chatting the large Tiefling’s ear off. 

It would seem you just don’t like him. 

One day the two of you are rummaging through a ruined house and end up in an old library. A shout from you makes him turn and ask if you’re alright. 

You explain you’re excited because you found a book from this series you love. It’s these biographies of old nobles, heroes, etc., fictionalized but really fun. 

You’re smiling and your eyes are so bright. Astarion’s never seen anything so beautiful. 

Then it all dies in an instant. “I’m sorry, this is silly. I’m probably bothering you.” 

Astarion wants to gut every person who ever made you feel that way. And he can tell there were many. 

He hurries to assure you that you are not boring him, and this is not silly. 

With a little prodding, you continue until the sound of Gnolls in the distance makes you both realize it’s time to go. 

At the last second, he recalls he saw the author’s name in another pile that had fallen from the shelf. He plucks it out and hands it to you. “Now you have two.”

That night, you shyly turn up at his tent, asking if he’d like to borrow one. 

At this point, he’d read a book Gale wrote on Tressyms just to talk with you about it. 

“If you’ll stay and read with me.” He’s shocked you agree.

It’s becomes a ritual, you read together at night, and talk about it on the road during the day. 

You’re finally all bright and cheerful with him, and it takes his breath away. 

One night, he can’t resist and leans in to steal a kiss while you’re chatting. 

You’re stunned. Normally you’d think he was making fun of you again, but now that you’ve gotten closer, it’s just confusing.

You finally have the courage to ask, and Astarion confesses how long he’s liked you. 

You’re overwhelmed and take a while to speak, making Astarion afraid he’s just ruined everything.

When you do, everything spills out, as you hurriedly explain why you kept your distance. 

Astarion really can’t believe that a kind, gorgeous person like yourself was some sort of strange outcast. But he is a Vampire so maybe he’s skewed. 

The two of you take things slow, you don’t exactly have much experience in romance. 

Which is nice, it let’s Astarion figure himself out a bit more. 

He realizes that sometimes you get in over your head in social situations, and he’s always there to back you up or take over.

The first time you had a meltdown, you were both scared, Astarion that he'd caused it somehow and you that he'd see how abnormal you were.

Afterwards, he starts to open up more about disassociating and his nightmares.

You learn how to take care of each other when these things happen. 

Astarion will admit he doesn't always follow the thought process that's going on in that lovely head of yours, but it makes you even more fascinating, not frustrating like you worry. 

You call yourself strange and again he reminds you he's a literal blood sucking, undead, creature of the night. Who's the strange one? 

When you talk about something you're passionate about, you're amazing to watch. 

Astarion doesn't come with ingrained expectations you can never meet. He just wants you to be you. 

You've never felt more comfortable and safe around anyone. 

Astarion often threatens to head back to your hometown to teach a few people a lesson. You tell him it doesn't matter anymore, you're so happy right now, today 

The two of you argue constantly about who's luckier to have ended up in this relationship. But it feels like you were made to be together. 

Tag list, to be added comment or dm me

@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird @writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21

@tallymonster @dependsonthedream

@sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess

@lumienyx @elora-the-slutty-songstress

@astariongf @satanicspinosaurus @lisrelly

[vintagerpg]

This is Dark Folk (1983), the Role Aids sourcebook for trolls, orcs, goblins, kobolds and gnolls. Not a great title, in terms of contemporary acceptability. The content fares better, though. Like Dwarves, the authors are trying to portray the societies of these “monsters” and there is a lot of thinking here about why they do the things they do (and, generally, finding fictional explanations for those actions, rather than subverting them). I find that they present these tribal humanoids in slightly more multifaceted ways then vanilla D&D but still basically fall back to essentialism. Chaosium’s Trollpak, a high-water mark in the portrayal of complex non-human sentient species, had come out in 1982, so this book probably marks a step back in this regard, even if it is an improvement on the Monster Manual’s absolutes.

One minor note: I think this might be the first time kobolds are explicitly characterized as reptilian and being hatched from eggs. The Monster Manual is ambiguous and I feel (without any particular evidence) that the dog-like portrayal of kobolds was dominant until 3E.

A cool thing about the book is the structure. Each species gets its cultural profile, which is followed by an adventure that builds on that information. I’m a sucker for that kind of construction, which TSR employed nicely in the Monstrous Arcana series in the late ’90s. And because the adventures and the cultural histories would probably feel unmoored without a larger setting, the first few pages of the book are devoted to a broad description of the continent of Mamaryl.

[oldschoolfrp]

“Gnolls:  A cross between Gnomes and Trolls (. . . perhaps, Lord Sunsany (sic) did not really make it all that clear) with +2 morale.  Otherwise they are similar to Hobgoblins, although the Gnoll king and his bodyguard of from 1-4 will fight as Trolls but lack regenerative power.”  (Dungeons & Dragons, Volume 2: Monsters & Treasure, Tactical Studies Rules, 1974; Greg Bell illustration)

As he noted, Gary Gygax borrowed the name “gnole” from a story by the Anglo-Irish writer Lord Dunsany.  The “cross between Gnomes and Trolls” detail was entirely a product of Gygax’s imagination, based solely on the appearance of his spelling of the name.  When he rewrote the monster descriptions for AD&D he kept the name but gave them a new identity as hyena-men.

Lord Dunsany’s “How Nuth Would Have Practised His Art upon the Gnoles” first appeared in The Book of Wonder in 1912.  He did not describe his gnoles beyond being a very dangerous sort of woodland creature that kept large emeralds.  An illustration showed shadowy ape-like shapes.

Margaret St. Clair wrote more about Dunsany’s gnoles in her story “The Man Who Sold Rope to the Gnoles,” in The Magazine of Fantasy and Science Fiction, V2 N5, October 1951, under the pseudonym Idris Seabright.  She described gnoles as lumpy (”a little like a Jerusalem artichoke made of India rubber”) and with tentacles, repeating Dunsany’s details about having emeralds in their homes and their habit of hiding in holes in tree trunks.  Gygax acknowledged both St. Clair and Lord Dunsany as inspirations in Appendix N of the AD&D Dungeon Masters Guide.

[c-rowlesdraws]

Have you ever read a short novel called "the Gnoll Credo"? If not, I think you would like it since it depicts Gnolls as an actual complex people with biology & sociology based on actual spotted hyenas instead of the universally evil demonic hordes of murder-monsters that WotC made these Hyena-people into.

I've had that book recommended to me before! I did look into it-- the preview was interesting, but I haven't read the whole thing. It seems like it's part fictional ethnography, part manifesto? It's the latter part that doesn't seem like it would appeal to me. It seems like it takes itself very seriously as a "back-to-nature" sort of call to action/philosophy (I guess the author is paleo as well??), and that's the kind of thing that makes me a bit skeptical. idk, I like a bit more fun with my fictional creatures. I love thoughtful gnoll worldbuilding (and nonhuman worldbuilding in general), but I'm not as much into it as the vehicle for any sort of profound takes on human nature and existence or the "right" way to live or something.

[skelezombie]

i've wanted to make a gnoll d&d character for years but i haven't because gnolls in d&d are so one-dimensional killer murder machines. but the first time I ever encountered gnolls in a fictional setting was in Heroes of Might and Magic III. and the gnolls there are just so much more interesting and dynamic. warriors, leaders, spell casters. they have names and families. they're not more or less ruthless than any of the other fantasy races in the game, and they can be just as powerful as the heroes that are liches or genies or humans or elves, etc.

[mxnsterbabe]

Male Gnoll/Female Reader SFW Wordcount: 3,343 Commissions | Ko-fi | Masterlist

Ruhui owns a steakhouse across the road from your new cafe. You’ve been pining over him for months, not knowing if he’s into humans at all.

Your heart raced with excitement as you unlocked the door to your new cafe It was the culmination of years of dreaming and months of hard work. The aroma of fresh coffee and pastries filled the air, a welcoming scent that you hoped would entice passersby. As you flipped the sign to open, your stomach fluttered with a mix of nerves and anticipation.

The first few customers trickled in, offering smiles and congratulations. You felt a surge of pride with each new face that appeared at the door. Your cafe, with its cosy armchairs and warm lighting, was exactly how you had envisioned it – a haven for those seeking comfort and a good cup of coffee.

Mid-morning, a sleek black cat sauntered in, its green eyes scanning the room before settling comfortably in a sunny spot by the window. Your heart skipped a beat, the old superstition about black cats and bad luck briefly crossing your mind.

A tall orc with a friendly smile noticed your gaze on the cat. "Ah, a black cat! That's a sign of good luck in orcish culture, you know," he said with a chuckle.

You raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at your lips. "Funny, for us it’s often seen as the exact opposite."

The orc laughed, a deep, rumbling sound that filled the cafe. "Well, I say take the orcish perspective on this one. Looks like good fortune is on your side."

The morning passed in a blur of activity after that. You poured coffees, served pastries, and chatted with customers, the hum of conversation a pleasant and constant undercurrent as you worked. Yet, despite the busyness, your attention kept drifting to the steakhouse across the street.

You had noticed him a few times before, the gnoll who worked there. His tall, imposing figure was hard to miss, as you watched him linger outside with a cigarette. His coarse fur was a rich brown, and he had broad shoulders that strained the think fabric of his uniform shirt.

It wasn’t until three o’clock, however, that there was a lull long enough for you to take a break. With a smile towards Jessica, your sole employee, you stepped outside for air.

There he was again, standing with a cigarette clasped between thick, sharp claws. You offered a wave, but the gnoll only gave a curt nod before slipping back inside.

Well. So much for making friends, then.

Summoning your courage, you decided to introduce yourself anyway. If nothing else, perhaps you could grab a quick lunch and say hello to the steakhouse owner.

The steakhouse was busy, the scent of grilled meat wafting out as you opened the door. You spotted him almost immediately, the gnoll, busily moving between tables.

Approaching the front desk, you were surprised to see the gnoll was the host for today. You felt a knot of nervousness in your stomach as you waved.

"Hi, I'm the owner of the cafe across the street," you began, extending a hand. "The Honeypot. Maybe you’ve seen it? Just wanted to introduce myself." You offered your name, too.

He looked at you, his amber eyes assessing. "Ruhui," he said simply, shaking your hand briefly before turning his attention back to the tables.

“Is the owner or manager around?”

“I’m the manager on shift. The owner only comes in on weekends.”

You shuffled awkwardly. “Right, thank you. I suppose I’ll see you around then?”

“Suppose you will.”

The interaction was brief, polite but lacking warmth. You couldn't shake off the feeling that your human heritage was a barrier he wasn't willing to cross. Gnolls were known for not being exactly… friendly outside of their small social circles.

Disappointed but not deterred, you returned to Jessica and the Honeypot, the black cat still lounging in the sunbeam by the window.

As you stepped back into the warm embrace of your café, the comforting scent of coffee greeted you like an old friend.

Jessica looked up from the espresso machine. "How did it go with the neighbours?" she asked, a playful curiosity in her eyes.

You shrugged, trying to mask your disappointment. "It was alright, but the host wasn't exactly the friendliest."

Jessica wiped her hands on her apron, a knowing smile on her face. "He's probably just busy, you know. Now’s about the time people are coming in for early dinner. Maybe he's not great at first impressions."

You considered this, glancing out the window at the steakhouse. "We should go there for lunch one day, get a feel for the place... and the staff," you suggested, your eyes involuntarily flicking back to where Ruhui had been.

Jessica laughed, leaning against the counter. "Is this a business strategy or are you just curious about the mysterious gnoll?" she teased.

You felt your cheeks warm slightly. "Purely professional interest," you quipped, though your heart betrayed your words.

"Of course, purely professional," Jessica echoed, her tone dripping with mock seriousness. "Should I start looking up how to communicate with gruff gnolls for our team training?"

You joined in the laughter, the sound filling the cafe. "That might not be the worst idea," you said, the corners of your eyes crinkling with amusement.

The rest of the day passed with the comfortable routine of café life. As you served customers and shared jokes, the earlier encounter with Ruhui retreated to the back of your mind, though not completely out of your thoughts.

Closing time came, and as you and Jessica tidied up, the ease of your friendship made the tasks feel less like work and more like a shared hobby.

"So, when are we planning this espionage lunch?" Jessica asked, stacking chairs.

"Let's give it a week. Don’t want to make it too obvious," you replied, a playful edge to your voice.

Jessica nodded, playing along. "A strategic move, boss. I like it."

As you locked up the cafe, you looked across the street at the bustling steakhouse. Just as you were locking up, they were only starting to get genuinely busy.

You hoped for a glimpse of Ruhui as you walked by, but he was nowhere to be seen.

***

Several days passed, the rhythm of the café becoming second nature to you. The black cat had become a regular, much to the delight of your customers. The buzz of conversation, the clink of cups became so familiar that you almost felt lost without it.

On Thursday, as you stepped outside to clear your head and stretch your legs, you spotted Ruhui across the street. He was leaning against the wall of the steakhouse, a lit cigarette dangling from his fingers. The smoke curled upwards, dissipating into the cool air.

You hesitated for a moment, then, driven by a curiosity you couldn’t quite suppress, you crossed the street. As you approached, Ruhui’s amber eyes flicked towards you, a hint of surprise crossing his otherwise impassive features.

"Hi, Ruhui, right?" you said, trying to sound casual.

He nodded, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. "Yes; and you own the Honeypot?"

His voice was deep, with a rough edge that made your stomach warm pleasantly. Youwere surprised that he remembered you.

"That's right," you replied, shuffling your feet slightly. "I hope I'm not disturbing your break."

Ruhui shook his head, a small gesture that seemed to convey more than words could. "It's fine," he said, his gaze returning to the street.

You searched for something to say, a way to extend the conversation. "I've noticed your steakhouse is always busy. Business must be doing well."

"It is," he replied simply, his eyes meeting yours for a moment before looking away.

There was something about his quiet, reserved nature that intrigued you. It was as if there was something more to him that he kept hidden, a story behind those guarded eyes.

"Well, I won't keep you," you said, feeling the conversation reaching its natural end. "See you around."

"Sure," Ruhui said, a noncommittal response that somehow didn't feel dismissive.

As you walked back to the café, his image lingered in your mind. Ruhui was an enigma, a mystery wrapped in a quiet, unassuming package.

Inside, the afternoon light streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow over the room. As you began to tend to the remaining customers and clean up the counters, your mind kept drifting back to the brief interaction with Ruhui.

Just as you were wiping down a table near the window, you glanced across the street and caught Ruhui's figure through the steakhouse's window. He seemed to be watching you, his expression unreadable. As soon as your eyes met, he quickly turned away, resuming his work as if he had never been looking in the first place.

A small smile played on your lips. Was it possible that Ruhui was just as intrigued by you as you were by him? The thought made you laugh to yourself, despite the flutter in your chest.

The rest of the day passed with your thoughts occupied by Ruhui. Every so often, you found yourself stealing glances across the street, half-expecting to catch him looking your way again. If he did steal any more glances, he was careful not to be caught.

***

As the week progressed, the idea of visiting the steakhouse crystalliszed into a plan. Finally, on a quiet Tuesday evening as you were closing up the café with Jessica, you broached the subject.

"Jessica, how about we grab dinner at the steakhouse tonight?" you suggested, wiping down the last table. "We’ve been talking about it for ages, and I finally have a free evening."

Jessica raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on her lips. "Is this for the food, or the gnoll waiter?" she teased, stacking chairs.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn't suppress a smile. "Jessica..."

"Sure, sure," Jessica chuckled, following you to the door. "Let's go, then."

With the café locked up, the two of you made your way across the street to the steakhouse. The warm glow from its windows promised a bustling atmosphere. A small flutter of anticipation tickled your stomach as you pushed open the door.

The steakhouse was lively, filled with the sounds of clinking cutlery, sizzling grills, and animated conversations. The hostess led you to a table, handing you menus with a smile. As you scanned the room, you couldn't help but search for Ruhui.

To your surprise, it was Ruhui himself who approached your table, notepad in hand. The look of surprise on his face was brief but noticeable.

"Good evening," he said, regaining his composure. "I'll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?"

Jessica winked at you subtly across the table, a barely suppressed grin on her face.

"Just water for now, thanks," you said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "We're still looking over the menu."

Ruhui nodded, jotting down your request. "I'll be right back with your waters. Take your time."

As he walked away, Jessica leaned in. "Well, this is an interesting development," she whispered. "He looked genuinely surprised to see us."

You nodded, your eyes following Ruhui as he moved through the restaurant with an effortless grace. "Maybe I’m not as predictable as he thought."

With a smile, you turned your attention to the menu. The array of choices was impressive. It seemed to cater to all kinds of people, from humans and orcs, gnolls to fae elves.

Jessica, ever the one for simplicity, opted for a classic steak and salad combo. Your eyes, however, were drawn to a more exotic option.

"What about the fireheart steak you mused aloud. It was orcish, known for its intense spiciness and bold flavors – a choice not commonly favored by humans.

Jessica raised her eyebrows. "Going for the adventurous choice, I see."

You smiled, feeling a sense of daring. "Why not? It's good to try new things."

When Ruhui returned to take your order, his expression was one of polite professionalism. That is until you ordered the fireheart steak. His eyebrow quirked up, a glimmer of surprise in his eyes.

"That comes with an incredibly spicy sauce," he said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Not many choose it."

You met his gaze, a playful challenge in your eyes. "I like a bit of spice. Keeps things interesting."

For a moment, there was a flicker of something akin to amusement in Ruhui's expression. "Well, consider yourself warned. It's not for the faint of heart."

The exchange felt almost like flirting, and you suppressed a delighted shiver. As Ruhui walked away to place your orders, you couldn't help the smug feeling that crept up. It seemed you had managed to pique his interest, even if just a little.

When the meal arrived, the intensity of the spices hit you immediately. The heat was powerful, but it was also citrusy and rich. You couldn't help but savor each bite, the spices making your face flush.

Jessica watched with a mix of amusement and awe. "I'm impressed," she said, taking a more cautious bite of her steak. "I didn't expect you to handle it so well."

You grinned, feeling a bead of sweat form at your temple. "I may have met my match, but I'm not backing down. This is delicious."

Across the room, you noticed Ruhui stealing glances in your direction, an unspoken question in his eyes. It was as if he was waiting for you to reach for the water, to admit defeat against the dish's fiery nature.

You didn't. Instead, you continued to enjoy the meal, the spice a welcome challenge. With each bite, you felt a sense of pride.

When it came time for dessert, Ruhui approached with a hint of curiosity in his stance. "How was the dish? Not too overwhelming, I hope?"

"Not at all," you replied, your voice steady despite the lingering heat. "It was fantastic. I'll definitely have it again."

A flicker of respect – and was it admiration? – passed through Ruhui's eyes. "I'm impressed. Not many can handle our spicy stuff. You're full of surprises."

The tone of his voice had changed, lighter, almost playful. It was as if your tolerance for the dish had shifted his perception of you, or perhaps broken down a barrier he had erected.

Jessica, picking up on the change, chimed in, "We'd love to try some dessert. What would you recommend?"

Ruhui's suggestion was thoughtful, and he described the desserts with an enthusiasm that seemed new. You chose a fudge brownie at his recommendation, a decision that seemed to please him.

As he walked away to place your dessert order, Jessica leaned in, a sly smile on her face. "Seems like you're not the only one full of surprises. Ruhui might have a softer side after all."

You chuckled, the warmth of the meal and the interaction leaving you in high spirits. "Maybe. He's definitely more than meets the eye."

The dessert was a perfect end to the meal – sweet, indulgent, and beautifully presented. As you savored each bite, you couldn't help but feel that the evening had been a success on more than one front. Not only had you enjoyed a fantastic meal, but it seemed that Ruhui was even managing to open up to you.

The thought made your stomach flutter, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Jessica grinned at you from across the table.

“You should ask him out,” Jessica informed you. “Leave your number or something when we pay.”

You rose a brow. “Do you think that’ll work. Isn’t that like workplace harassment?”

Jessica’s laughter was soft, muffled by her hand. “Oh come on, it doesn’t hurt to try. Worst case scenario, he ignores you and you go back to staring wistfully every time you see him.”

True. Fine, you were sold. You scribbled your number on a piece of paper, your heart racing the entire time. Just as you were about to discreetly leave it on the table, a different waiter approached with the bill.

"Here's your bill," he said cheerfully. "Ruhui had to take his break, so I'm covering his tables for a bit."

You nodded, a hint of disappointment washing over you. As you reached for the bill, the piece of paper with your number lay conspicuously on the table. The waiter's eyes flicked to it, and a knowing smile crossed his face.

"Is that for Ruhui?" he asked, a playful tone in his voice.

You felt your cheeks warm with embarrassment, but before you could reply, the waiter continued, "If it is, you might not want to bother. Ruhui isn't really into humans. No offense."

The way he said it, so matter-of-factly, stung more than you expected. It wasn't just the words, but the dismissive tone, the insinuation that your interest was somehow misplaced or unwelcome.

Jessica, who had been watching the exchange, frowned. "That's a bit rude, isn't it?" she said, her voice sharp. "It's not your place to comment on someone's preferences like that."

The waiter seemed taken aback by Jessica's response. "I didn't mean any offense. Just, you know, saving you some embarrassment."

You quickly paid the bill, your earlier excitement now replaced with a mix of frustration and embarrassment. The waiter's words echoed in your mind. Was he right? Was your interest in Ruhui misguided?

As you stepped outside of the steakhouse, the cool night air did little to soothe the sting of the waiter's words. Jessica stayed close, her support a small comfort.

Just as you were about to cross the street back to your café, you noticed Ruhui in his usual spot, taking a smoke break. Your first instinct was to avoid him, but as you passed by, he called out.

"Hey, wait a minute," Ruhui said, his tone holding a note of confusion.

You hesitated, then stopped, gut twisting. Jessica stood beside you, her presence a silent show of solidarity.

Ruhui approached, flicking away his cigarette. "Is everything alright? You seem upset."

Your thoughts raced. Part of you wanted to dismiss him, to walk away, but the other part wanted to confront the situation. "Fine, at least now I know not to waste my time. Or yours." The words came out in a rush, tinged with hurt and embarrassment.

Ruhui's expression changed to one of annoyance, then understanding. He let out a short laugh, not of amusement but of disbelief. "Colleague… you mean Turner? He's an asshole. Don't listen to him. He enjoys stirring up trouble."

You were taken aback by his response, the bluntness of his words unexpected. "So, it's not true?" you asked, a glimmer of hope rekindling in your chest.

“What’s not true?”

“That you’ve no interest in humans.”

Ruhui snorted. "No, it's not. I don't know where he gets these ideas. Wait, why?"

You shifted from one foot to the other, and your lips pursed. “No reason.”

There was a pause, a moment of hesitation before realisation seemed to dawn on his face. “Oh, I get it. I’ve got to admit, I’m surprised. I've been... intrigued by you, too."

His admission caught you off guard. The doubts and hurt from moments ago began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of relief.

"Really?" you asked, a cautious optimism in your voice.

Ruhui nodded, a rare vulnerability in his eyes. "Yeah. I noticed you the day your café opened. You've got something... different about you."

Jessica nudged you gently, a silent encouragement to seize the moment. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage. "I thought there was something different about you too. That's why I... why I wanted to leave my number."

Ruhui's lips curved into a small smile, an action that transformed his usually stoic face. His muzzle twitched adorably. "I wish you had. I would have called."

The night suddenly felt warmer, the earlier embarrassment fading into insignificance.

"Well, it's not too late," you said, a newfound boldness in your tone. "How about we start over? Maybe grab a coffee together at the Honeypot?"

"I'd like that," Ruhui replied, his smile widening.

[chaoskirin]

LOOK! It's These Guys!

I drew my main characters. <3

Here's some fun facts about them.

Ptery's hair is LIKE FEATHERS. Soft, not quite pycnofibers and not quite feathers, but because of banshee origins is an amalgamation of hair and feathers. It can be styled, and most banshees to have a few feathers in their hair.

Meadow's left horn broke because two gods fought over him when he was 6 aurs (years) old and neither of them won. In a temper tantrum, the water god, Wheriae, broke his horn because Meadow wouldn't use water magic.

Benji is an archaeologist! Or he was, before he got wrapped up in stuff. He's made some pretty prominent discoveries, and his most recent area of study is old gnoll artifacts from the time of the Defeated (which the gnolls call the Old Gods.)

Everyone knows Luka's had some stress in her life. She has a grey streak behind her right ear. More interesting, though, is her bright green eyes. Most people suppose she has some elvish lineage. She's so abrasive that no one really asks about it.

You can get Shadecursed now on 4maz0n! It's available in eBook, paperback, or hardcover. If you'd prefer to have a signed copy, send me a message and I'll make it happen! Just do a search for Shadecursed and it should be the first result. <3

[overfedvenison]

Behold my Savage Coast Lupin Squad!

...The lore of Renardie in the Savage Coast/Red Steel setting is that it is a Musketeer-era France type of setting located in, essentially, Caelid from Elden Ring. The entirety of the region is an area in Mystara where a rad haze covers the sky and dyes everything red... Those within are warped by the Red Curse, which degenerates the mind and body until you erode away to a skeleton if not kept abated, but also grants formidable magic powers. The portrayals of Renardie tend to be a lot less haggard than this, and much more focused on fancy Three Musketeer types. But there are exceptions:

I wanted to portray a more Soulsian, Turnip 28-y vibe though, emphasizing the palette of reds. These are for the DND 3.5 miniatures wargame, compatible with that edition of the game ...I combined some Perry Miniatures French Elites with Frostgrave Gnolls. The leader, an inheritor, combines an old D&D miniature with some plastic grass and gnoll parts. I ordered in some pigment, and am combining both red pigments and redder make-up for the land, dyed red with a fictional substance called Vermeil.

I figured the Gnoll Heads would give more of a vibe of a haggard appearance... and they were also the only wolf-like heads I could fine en masse. I dressed them as napoleonic, which combined with the haggard vibe it should ideally invoke miniature art movements like Turnip28.

I might need a bit more before it's a proper Warband, even for a skirmish mode. Considering a dire wolf, in particular. Buuut, yeah.

[thevoiceofdog]

Hear now the tale: a myth of a far-away land, telling of the gods of love, and of patience.

Today’s story is “The Gods In Between” by NightEyes DaySpring, one of the stories from his collection Gnoll Tales, that won a 2023 Ursa Major Award for Best General Literary Work. NightEyes is a wolf with a penchant for coffee and a love of fantasy fiction. Information about him and his writing can be found at nighteyes-dayspring.com.

[demi-shoggoth]

2023 Reading Log, pt 8

36. Everything You Wanted to Know About Indians but Were Afraid to Ask, Revised and Expanded Edition by Anton Truer. This book is written by an Ojibwe professor (as in, both that he’s Ojibwe and teaches Ojibwe language), and is aimed primarily at a novice, non-Native audience. Truer’s whole career is based on expanding education of Native languages, preserving endangered languages, and revitalizing tribal culture while simultaneously building bridges with mainstream American culture. It does a very good job of summarizing issues about land rights, sovereignty, history and civil rights about Native Americans. It’s written in an engaging style, and is doing good anti-racism work, I think. But it has issues, and the big one is the Culture chapter. The Culture chapter is written basically assuming that all Indian Country (his words) works the way that Ojibwe tribes and their neighbors do, with minor variations. Obviously, this is both an introductory book and one that needs to summarize an immensely diverse group of people, but I think the author does himself no favors by saying things like all Native American religions are monotheistic. So definitely take the cultural material with a grain of salt.

37. Hyena by Mikita Brottman. This book is part of the Animal series by Reaktion Books, little chapbook sized books about the natural and cultural history of some particular animal. This book focuses much more on the cultural than natural history, talking about how hyenas have been reviled by many cultures (including modern pop culture) and consistently confused with each other by early scientists. That bit, about the entangling of different hyenas, is the part that was the most novel and interesting to me, as I quite like the history of science. The book is well illustrated, with a variety of woodcuts and illustrations from vintage European books, as well as artifacts from people who live among hyenas, and photos of hyenas wild, in zoos and tamed by people. I did find it a weird oversight that, in a chapter that includes Magic the Gathering cards of hyenas and hyenas in World of Warcraft, that it didn’t talk about gnolls or anthropomorphic hyenas in fantasy fiction.

38. The Monster Overhaul by Skerples. This book is a monster book for fantasy RPGs, written for a generic OSR style game. It’s different in that it focuses on a relatively small number of monsters for its size, instead doubling down on plot hooks, descriptions and ways to otherwise bring creatures to life at the table. The gimmick? Random tables for everything, even the table of contents. The organization is somewhat intentionally bizarre, but the book is well indexed. It’s also highly readable for a book that is comprised mainly of tables. The Monster Overhaul is thoughtful about its uses for monsters, has clever takes on some D&D staples (like how manticores are all male and are the embodiment of male entitlement and bitterness, or how “brain eaters” are literally addicted to humanoid brains), and is very funny to boot. Highly recommended for anyone interested in fantasy RPGs, regardless of system.

39. Healing with Poisons by Yan Liu. This is an academic text discussing the development of Chinese medicine in the 3rd through 10th centuries. The focus is on du, roughly translated as “potency”, a force ascribed to medicinal ingredients that were generally toxic. The book talks about the philosophy of medicine in medieval China and how that philosophy changed between authors, how the government got more involved in standardizing medical texts, and how regional differences between practices and ingredients influenced that standardization. It also goes into a lot of detail about how various toxic minerals, particularly arsenates and mercury, were used to make “elixirs of life”, and how the fact that these often very clearly killed people was rationalized away for centuries before “internal alchemy” became more popular than “external alchemy”. There’s also a discussion of a royal scandal involving the court during the Sui dynasty being plagued by a cat demon!

40. Geopedia by Marcia Bjornerud. This is the best of the –pedia series I’ve read (sorry, Darren Naish!). It covers bits of geology, with a focus on explaining major earth formations and covering the history of science. As such, there’s a lot that I didn’t know that I learned from this book, especially about some of the also-ran hypotheses that were rejected when plate tectonics was understood to be the driving force behind most earth processes. It’s highly readable and does a very good job of drawing connections between bits of seemingly disparate information to explain how the Earth works. This book is a very good resource for people who know a bit about geology and want to learn more.