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Long ago, when Gnolls were new, and the world had not yet known their terror, there was a grassy gnoll by the name of Alhabra. Alhabra was many things, but quick to act, Alhabra was not. Alhabra traveled with his clan, and one day passed through a Mountain’s meadow. It was here he decided to take a short rest. He closed his eyes for just a moment, but when he awoke, he found his clan had moved on without him. Perhaps they’d grown tired of Alhabra’s constant slacking. Perhaps they merely had not seen him resting in the tall grass. Whatever the case, he was alone. He contemplated hurrying to catch them, but that seemed like a lot of work. So Alhabra looked around and saw the bounties the Mountain could provide. There were fish in the river, and there was warm sunlight to bask in all day. Alhabra decided to stay here, and lazed about in the sunshine, catching fish when he was hungry, drinking when he was thirsty, and making the best of what the Mountain could provide.

In time, the Mountain grew tired of his intrusion. Most visitors to the Mountain took what they needed and moved along, but Alhabra seemed content to stay. The Mountain finally spoke up, and in a booming voice, called out to Alhabra. “You have taken what you need, creature, now give thanks and move along.” Alhabra scoffed at the Mountain. Why should he leave, when he had everything he needed right here? He continued to laze about among the Mountain’s riches. This angered the Mountain, who decided to call down the driving rains of Spring to wash the gnoll off the Mountain. As the rains poured down, Alhabra lay in the mud. He could find a cave, but that seemed an awful lot of work. Instead, he lay and allowed the mud to warm him as the rain fell around him. The Mountain grew angrier, and decided that if the rains of Spring would not work, he would call the blazing sun of Summer to bake the gnoll. As the sun began to scorch the Mountain meadow, Alhabra lazed about, the heat baking the mud upon his skin and providing armor against its mighty hotness. He could seek shade, but that seemed a lot of work. The Mountain grew furious at the gnoll, and decided to call down the chill winds of Autumn to blow the gnoll off the Mountain. Alhabra felt the stiff breeze coming, and simply laid down in his place, and let the winds pass over him. The wind merely shook the mud from his coat, and fluffed up his fur as he lazed along the riverbank. He could have dug a ditch, but that seemed a lot of work. The Mountain, now desperate, finally called down the frigid snows of Winter to freeze the gnoll. As the ice and snow poured down upon Alhabra, his fluffed up fur kept him warm, and he continued to lollygag along the river’s edge. He could build a shelter, but that seemed a lot of work. Eventually, the Mountain, exasperated, gave up his assault. He spoke to Alhabra once more. "Creature, you have faced all my arsenal. It seems I cannot drive you from this place. So, I ask you once more, take what you will, give thanks, and move along. Please.” Alhabra considered this, but instead lazed about in the meadow, and fished from the riverbank for the rest of his days. After all, anything else seemed like an awful lot of work.

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