The dwarf who spoke up was a middle aged dwarf who's hair and beard had started to go grey with age.
He had an impressive collection of scar that showed an extensive career as a warrior in his youth.
Storm suspects that it was this reason why Grombrim had chosen him for this mission.
"What do you suggest, Rutherford?" Asked Grombrim.
"Gnolls always expect their leaders to be the strongest, any sign of weakness and he is quickly disposed of.
Which is why Gnolls take challenges for leadership so seriously.
They'll never refuse a challenge and the pack would never interfere with a duel."
"Are you suggesting someone challenge the leader to single combat?
You do realize this is a Chimera we're talking about!?
One of the most dangerous monsters you can find?!" Exclaimed Aurora.
"That's exactly what I am suggesting. The pack won't interfere and they won't kill hostages if we do this."
"How do you know this leader would even accept the challenge?!
He's not a Gnoll, so he might not follow the same customs. " said Aurora.
"He might not, But his pack does.
If he refused, it would show weakness and they would turn on him immediately. " Explained Rutherford.
Storm gave it some thought.
"You guys stay here!
Don't interfere unless they interrupt the fight."
"Storm!! You're not actually consid....!" Started Aurora.
Before she could finish objecting, Storm took off into the air.
He hovered above the village and roared loudly to get everyone's attention.
The Gnolls below released panicked yelps and barks as they rushed to get their weapons, or to find cover.
Storm landed heavily in the center of the small village and roared again.
A large group of Gnolls rushed to the site and formed a defensive formation to block Storm's advance.
They wielded spears and javelins and had mismatching pieces of armor that they managed to scavenge during their raids.
Their commander was a black furred Gnoll that was at least a foot taller than his kin, standing at roughly 7 feet.
He wielded no weapons or armor except for his natural claws and fangs.
His yellow eyes were watching Storm carefully as he bared his teeth at him in response to his challenge.
Storm glared at him and growled, before shifting his gaze to the cave entrance.
The black furred Gnoll followed his gaze and immediately understood Storm's intent.
The Gnolls began communicating with each other in their own language of barks in an excited tone.
Storm stomped the ground and roared again and their focus shifted back to him again.
"You challenge?" Asked the black furred Gnoll.
This suprised Storm, he hadn't expected the Gnolls to be able to speak the common tongue.
He nodded his head and bared his fangs.
"I summon." Replied the Gnoll.
He raised his head to the sky above and released a long, drawn out wolf like howl.
At first, nothing answered his call. Then a minute later, Storm heard a rumble coming from the cave entrance.
As his opponent stepped into view, dread clutched his heart.
"That's not a Chimera!!" Thought Storm.
Dragons wasn't always the calmer species they were today.
In the past they were no different to other large predators. They were cunning but had no grasp of civilization or negotiation.
Anything not a dragon was either an rival or were food.
Some of those animalistic instincts were still strong in dragon kind. Especially when they are hatchlings.
The community and familial care was vital to drown out these instincts and give rise to higher thought.
But some dragons didn't receive this care and never shed those predatory instincts.
It could be due to an accident, a hatchling getting seperated from it's clan and forced to fend for itself in the wild.
All hatchlings that are caught and enslaved by humans ended up going feral.
Or it could be that an adult dragon experiences extreme trauma and goes berserk, and doesn't manage to regain his calmer state again.
Storm himself was dangerously close to going feral after his clan was lost and it was only Razor's persistence that saved him from this fate.
They become highly cunning, but incredibly dangerous creatures that don't even have a language to communicate with anymore.
These dragons go feral even towards others of their kind and needs to be approached with extreme caution as these ferals consider them nothing more than rivals attempting to claim their territory.
Or potential mates for them to dominate.
Once a dragon goes feral, it's extremely difficult to rehabilitate them and most dragons would just put the poor creature out of it's misery.
The dragon in front of Storm now had muddy brown scales and was brimming with muscle.
It's slanted yellow eyes glared at Storm with disdain. It clearly wasn't happy to see him.and Storm could expect no mercy from him.
This dragon would rip and tear into him, like a lion does to a doe, then feast on his flesh once Storm was dead.
It raised it's massive wings to make itself even larger than it already was and roared out it's response to Storm's provocation.
It's body was covered in thick scars, the kind you only got from being lashed repeatedly as well as others thst came from beating rivals.
Clearly Storm wasn't the first to challenge this dragon and they all ended up filling his belly afterwards.
The dragon walked slowly towards the center of the village and the Gnolls scrambled to get out of his way before he crushed them underfoot.
Storm knew that fighting this feral would be one of the hardest fights he's had.
The only thing that gave him hope was that this dragon wasn't as big as him.
"He was probably enslaved by the Gnolls as a hatchling before breaking free and dominating the pack." Thought Storm.
The dragon before him was in excellent physical condition, but the smaller size marked him as a young adult that hadn't reached the same level of experience and growth as Storm.
"He's young! That means he might be inexperienced in many of the abilities dragons possess! I can use that to my advantage!" Thought Storm.
Before he had a chance to think anything else, his opponent made a single jump and instantly closed the distance between them.
"Ohhh ...."