Tale of Two Shamans
Blitzwulf glanced over his shoulder, to see if Nazlug was still there - and as expected, the oversized troll shaman was sitting down with eyes closed, deep in thought and chanting quietly to himself in an unknown tongue. At first he was intrigued, even a little curious - but now he began to grow a little impatient and slightly resentful of his new companion's peculiarities.
The two shamans first noticed each other at separate cave entrances to Blackburrow, guarded by vicious gnolls that would gladly disembowel either shaman without a second thought. They had set up camp on opposite sides of the waterfall, observing each other from a distance with careful skepticism. Blitzwulf would call upon the favor of the gods, before rushing into battle swinging the full force of his trusty warhammer at the foul beasts, who deserved swift retribution for all of his fallen companions from Halas. Only after the battle would he sit down to heal and prepare for his next encounter. He did not understand why Nazlug would not face the enemy in direct combat - the gnolls would have literally bounced off the enormous troll shaman, if he would just bother to just stand up and fight. For Blitzwulf, a good shaman should be able and willing to handle a couple of blows - where was the honor in being able to increase your strength and toughness, if you were not going to use these god granted powers?
Nazlug was also puzzled by his small furry barbarian companion. He had come to Blackburrow to unlock the arcane secrets of disease and poison and use them against the gnolls, and his time was better spent improving their deadly efficiency. He did not understand why Blitzwulf did not have the patience to allow the gnolls to succumb to pain and suffering, if he truly sought vengeance. After all, there was no better way to instill fear in an enemy, than to have them feel their innards melt away in searing pain while standing helpless, with their deathbringer sitting comfortably just barely outside reach while their vision slowly fades to black.
After a long protracted fight, Blitzwulf was almost ready to strike a final blow on the burly gnoll, when suddenly another young gnoll wandered by to assist. Alarmed, Blitzwulf wondered if Nazlug had fallen asleep, or worse - until he noticed the all too familiar look of fear in the sickly green glowing eyes of both gnolls, mere moments before they both keeled over writhing in pain and slumped to the floor. He nodded approvingly at Nazlug, who had stood up to scratch himself for a moment, only to notice a young gnoll pup ready to strike his troll companion from behind. Blitzwulf dispatched the pup with a single quick blow to the skull, and Nazlug also grunted his gratitude. As different as they were, perhaps there was something they could still learn from one other - after all, they shared the common desire to silence the incessant yapping of the gnolls - along with their mutual love for the meat pies the halfling druid had given them earlier that day.