My Second Life is a Heroic Power Fantasy

The collected company finally stopped shortly before nightfall at the edge of a small copse of trees perhaps half a mile from the base of the mountain, and set about establishing a makeshift camp.

Jack groaned as he shifted the pack off of his back onto the grass. Everything was sore from the less than playful thrashing Rose had given him when she'd finally caught him. To be fair, it'd turned into a right proper tussle, and he'd gotten a few good shots in too as they'd wrestled, but she'd definitely come out on top. She only finally relented from trying to pull his arm out of his socket when he promised to never do it again.

He did, of course. But he was probably lying, and she probably knew that, too. This wasn't the first time they'd teased each other like this, and it was almost certainly not going to be the last.

Everything was set up, bedding was in place, and food in the process of preparation when the scouts sent ahead to the base of the mountain returned and reported to Farlo and the rest. Shortly after, Urien called Jack and Rose to meet with him and some of the other leaders. Once everyone was assembled in a small circle, Urien began.

"As is to be expected, the gnolls are waiting for as at the base of the mountain. Scouts counted at least four dozen, perhaps more, with some preliminary defenses set up. Barricades and a few archers towers, at least. We don't know if they have any casters or reinforcements waiting in the wings, but none were reported as visible during reconnaissance." He said.

"I suspect there's three times that still in the cave, should we get past that lot." Farlo said.

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"It's likely." Urien replied, nodding. "And they'll probably come running at the first sign of the garrison being attacked."

"Are all of the gnolls in the Iron Hounds fighters? The way you all talk about them, it sounds like they're a nomadic tribe of families, rather than a group of raiders." Jack said.

"Yes, that's true, Jack. Among that remaining number will be a fair number of gnoll elderly, women, and children as well. The amount of stout fighters will probably be half that, maybe even less." Farlo replied. "Though, all of them are just as likely to fight as the men."

"Wait, we're going to be attacking women and children? I didn't agree to that." Rose interjected, her face hard.

"I'm not really comfortable with it either." Jack added.

"I understand your ethical concerns, but I'm afraid if you want to save your companion, it is very likely going to be necessary. Gnolls are known for their ferocity and their martial prowess. Rarely are they known for things like negotiation, common sense, or empathy. The young ones would as soon bash your skulls in with a rock as they would accept your kindness or offer their own." Farlo said grimly.

"I'm afraid my father's right." Urien chimed in. "I once thought and felt the same as you two do. But after seeing some of my men butchered by younglings and she-dogs during a raid, I've come to the same mind he has. You both need to prepare yourself for the possibility of having to face them, no matter how repugnant as it may seem to you now."

Rose looked away and pursed her lips. Jack nodded, but said nothing. He knew the two of them were probably right, but he couldn't help the sense of discomfort the idea caused him. Surely other species weren't just destined from birth to be evil. Every intelligent being had a choice to be evil or not, didn't they?

They DID have choice...right?