Pasha Babak and the Gnoll-King - Chapter 1

The Gnoll King and the Three Daughters of Pasha Babak,
As told by the mendicant story teller, Slick-Tongue Shadi

“Ah, thank ye kindly lass, this’ll wet the old whistle right nicely. A story eh? Well I can give ye kind folks a story. Now let me think… There’s the story of the Shah Khalizad and the forty-seven djinn…? No, you’ve heard it already? What about the tale of Bhagatur and the Great Dragon of Darbel? That one too? Alas, young folk today, so jaded, they don’t appreciate the old stories any more.”

“I’ve just the thing for ye! A true tale, I’m told, from Darawesh in Sabaa! The story of the Gnoll King and the Three Daughters of Pasha Babak! You haven’t heard this one I wager? Good then, now if you’ll just fill up me ale mug again, we can get started. Thank ye lass.”

“Now where was I? Ah yes, the story. Now this was in olden days, before the Sultan unified the desert and broke the gnolls once and for all. Back in those days, the tribes would get together every decade or so under a mighty chief and go a-rampaging and a-looting through every city they could find. The greatest of these was Galachar Gnoll-King, but he’s after this story.”

“What’s a gnoll you ask? Ah, yes, I forget you don’t get them here on the coast. They are a race of hyena-men of the deep desert, savage of spirit and cruel of style, like tall, lanky men with the heads and hides and tails and legs of hyenas, raiders mostly, who live in tribes under chieftains.”

“Now this chief was named Stanimir, and he managed to get a lot of tribes under his banner, and they all went a-raiding and a-pillaging, with Stanimir Gnoll-King at their head. City after city fell, caravans looted, and armies were routed, cuz this was before the big armies of the Sultan we have today, and it looked like Stanimir Gnoll-King would roll right up the desert of Darbel to the coast, like Galachar would do a few hundred years later.”

“But then he came to the little desert-city of Salka. Now this was just a little oasis of a place, ruled by a fellow named Pasha Babak. He was a short, jolly fellow with a potbelly and a beard, and if he wasn’t the greatest ruler Salka ever had, he was kind, he tried to be just, and he was clever enough to know when he needed advice.”

“And boy did he ever need advice! Here was Stanimir Gnoll-King coming along the desert with five thousand raging, howling hyena-men, all wanting nothing more then to chew little Salka up like a soup bone. Pasha Babak was scared silly, and he went to every wise man and learned philosopher he could find, from the great Vizier of Kalabar down to the humblest desert hermit, and he asked all of them how to save Salka. And they thought and consulted learned texts and threw the bones and took the omens and one and all, they said Salka was doomed, that the gnolls would just up and swallow it down whole.”

“Finally, Pasha Babak came to an old desert witch, named Gruna. And this Gruna had the magical talent of a salamander, but she was a crafty old hag, and she listened to Pasha Babak, and she said, ‘this is what you’ve got to do if you’re to save your city.’ And she told Pasha Babak what to do. At first he protested, and said this was beyond the pale, but he had no other options then have little Salka swallowed like a desert lizard by a buzzard, so he did it.”

“When Stanimir Gnoll-King came at the head of his hordes, he found a flag of truce above the oasis-town of Salka, and Pasha Babak riding out alone on a temperamental old camel, nervous as a mouse in a palace of cats, but still out there, alone, waiting for Stanimir Gnoll-King. Now Stanimir found this odd, and he was curious, and so he rode up on his warbeast, and he called forth to Pasha Babak,

“‘Ho human, what do you here? Don’t you know that I am Stanimir Gnoll-King, Ruler of the Desert Tribes, Master of the Sands, Lord of the East and the West, the North and the South, and that I am here to chomp up your little town of Salka like a dog eats a scrap of meat?’”

“And Pasha Babak nodded, and bowed, and answered the fearsome Gnoll-King as Gruna had told him to. ‘Oh Great and Glorious King of the Gnolls, as ruler of Salka, I offer you peace, and a truce, and a gift. For if you will spare me and my city; then I will offer you my oldest daughter of my three daughters, Nasrin, in marriage. She is a beautiful girl, pretty like a desert rose, and clever too in the managing of a household. And as I have no sons, when I die, which shall happen soon for I am old, you will become liege of Salka with no need for fighting, and with the law on your side.’”

“Now this stopped Stanimir Gnoll-King short, cuz no one had ever offered such a thing to him. And he thought about it, and he liked it, for he was unwed, since any gnoll-wife he took from one tribe would mean offending all the others, and so he was a bachelor, and not very fond of it. So he agreed, and took the oldest daughter of Pasha Babak, Nasrin, to his tent as wife.”

“Stanimir Gnoll-King was nervous, for he had never before had a lady of breeding in his tent, and he wished very much to make a good impression on his new bride. So he had the slave-prisoners clean it up all nice, and scented it with wild desert flowers, and had hides of rare animals stretched on the walls of his tent, and placed carvings of jade and lapis lazuli, fine gnoll-work, around the tent.”

“But no sooner did Nasrin enter the tent that night, escorted by an honor guard of Stanimir’s best warriors and most skilled slaves, then she began to find fault with the tent. ‘These flowers are to strong of smell, I cannot stand them!’ and ‘These hides are poorly tanned, they will surely start to stink soon, remove them at once!’ and ‘The carvings are so course and crude, I cannot stand the sight of them!’ and so on and so forth, never letting up for even an instant, insulting every bit of the tent as the guards snickered and poor Stanimir Gnoll-King looked more and more glum.”

“Finally he could take no more of it, and in the morning he took Nasrin back to Salka and her father, and said to the Pasha Babak, ‘Human, this marriage I cannot survive! Our deal is off, and by the end of the day I shall take Salka for my own self!’”

“And Pasha Babak bowed and scraped and begged for mercy, and spoke as the desert witch Gruna had told him to. ‘Oh Honored Monarch of the Gnolls, perhaps this marriage was too hasty. Please, I beg you, take my middle daughter, Parisa, delicate as a desert fairy, to be your wife, and spare my city!’”

“Stanimir Gnoll-King considered this, and thought of it, and agreed, for he truly would have liked to be married. So he agreed, and took the second daughter of Pasha Babak, Parisa, to his tent as wife.”

“This time though, Stanimir Gnoll-King decided to try a different approach to getting the approval of his bride-to-be. So he had the prisoner-slaves prepare a great feast, and ordered the supplies of his army plundered for the choicest morsels, and had great roasts of desert lamb prepared, and rare drinks of fermented grape, and even, prize of prize, had a dozen peacocks slain and their tongues prepared for his lady.”

“But no sooner did Parisa arrive at the feast that night, escorted by an honor guard of Stanimir’s vassals, then she began to find fault with the meal, more shrilly then her sister had. ‘These roasts are to dry, your cooks have bungled their duty and burned them!’ and ‘this wine is too sour, you have left it in the barrel far too long!’ and ‘These tongues are slight and unfulfilling, and no fit meal for a lady!’ and so on and so forth, never letting up for even an instant, scorning every meal as the vassals choked down laughter and Stanimir Gnoll-King looked more and more wroth.”

“Finally he could take no more of it, and in the morning he took Parisa back to Salka and her father, and said to the Pasha Babak, “Human! What is this game of yours? Twice you have offered me a wife and twice I have been unable to stand their shrewish nagging! Our deal is off and by the end of the day I shall take Salka for my own self!’”

“And Pasha Babak bowed and scraped and begged for mercy, and spoke as the desert witch Gruna had told him to. ‘Oh Wonderful Ruler of the Gnolls, I beseech you, give me one more chance! Please, I beg you, take my youngest daughter, Tahirih, pure and sweet of disposition, to be your wife, and spare my city!’”

“Stanimir Gnoll-King thought and considered, and after much time let himself be persuaded, for he was lonely in his tent at night and would truly have liked to be married. So he agreed, and took the youngest daughter of Pasha Babak, Tahirih, to his tent as wife.”

“This time though, Stanimir Gnoll-King would not rely on material things to impress his bride, but on his own prowess. Was he not a warrior, a conqueror of cities and a slayer of armies? Subtlety had failed, it was time for strength. And so he prepared himself, and had the prisoner-slaves brush his fur most carefully, and anoint him with oils and perfumes, and wore naught but a torc of purest gold upon his neck.”

“But no sooner did Tahirih arrive at Stanimir’s bed that night, then she began to find fault, more shrilly then both of her sisters combined. ‘Your fur is too rough, it scratches me’ and ‘Your smell is too strong, it is like that of a dying oxen’ and ‘You are far too scrawny, your hide sticks to your ribs’ and so on and so forth, never letting up for even an instant all night, belittling the poor Gnoll-King no matter how Stanimir tried to please her.”

“Come dawn, it was a very abashed Stanimir who took Tahirih back to Salka and her father, and said to the Pasha Babak, ‘Human, this marriage will never succeed. Take your daughter back, and answer me but one question. Are all the women of your town like your daughters?’”

“And Pasha Babak bowed and answered as the desert witch Gruna had told him to. ‘No, Good Leader of the Gnolls, among the women of Salka my daughters are held in highest esteem, and considered the very paragon of feminine accomplishment.’”

“This is what Stanimir Gnoll-King had been afraid of. With a horrified howl, he screamed ‘This cannot be possible! Aiiieeee! Take your town and may you have the luck of it, I am taking my followers and leaving as quickly as if we were the desert winds themselves! For no city with womenfolk as shrewish as your daughters can be worth conquering!’ And with that Stanimir Gnoll-King took his hordes and rode away from Salka as fast as their feet could take them.”

“And as he left, Pasha Babak and his daughters celebrated, for their scheme had worked and they had saved the city of Salka! In time all three daughters would marry nobles, and one of them, Tahirih, would be the mother of the great hero Jahangir, and all three were as sweet and lovely wives as could be found in Darbel, and when the good Pasha died, as all men do, they ruled Salka jointly, in peace and wisdom, with the guiding hand of the desert witch Gruna to help them discreetly.”

“As for Stanimir Gnoll-King? He would raid and skirmish and conquer for decades to come, and was probably the greatest warlord the gnolls had ever seen, save Galachar. But till the end of his days, he would remain a committed bachelor, and never, no matter what reason, would come within twenty leagues of Salka.”