Galen fell into deep thought. His first move would be to lure the quillboars out from their caves to face him on open ground. Letting them stay holed up underground would only prolong the conflict.
The Art of War: Draw the snake from its hole.
After indulging himself with two baskets of delicious crawfish—of which he devoured nearly half—he leaned back contentedly, admiring the mound of empty shells in front of him.
"Matron Un'yah, your focus must remain on completing Bloodhoof Village," Galen instructed. "I'll assist in securing a solid defensive line. Once the village is fortified, we'll press south and resume construction of Narache Camp. Slowly, we'll shrink the Quillboars' territory."
"A sound and cautious plan," Matron Un'yah replied, nodding. "The Shu'halo will redouble their efforts." The methodical strategy aligned well with the Taurens' nature—steadfast and wary of reckless action, unlike a certain Explorer's League leader.
As the bonfire gathering ended and the matriarchs returned to their camp, Galen glanced around. Bloodhoof Village was already taking shape, ringed on three sides by Stonebull Lake. The southern wall, however, bore clear signs of battle: scorched marks from fire and fresh damage from repeated Quillboar raids.
Drawing his eyes away, Galen called Hogg over with a gesture.
Hogg's eyes lit up. He approached quickly, but cast a jealous glance at the black lion cub chewing contentedly on a Kodo leg bone at Galen's feet.
Galen sighed. "It's just a pet, Hogg. You're my right-hand man brilliant and trusted. No need to be jealous."
The black lion cub had been Galen's latest curiosity. During a ride across the plains—mounted on the Kodo Kane had given him—they were ambushed by a pride of golden prairie lions. Dezco and the other Tauren quickly dispatched the attackers, and with typical efficiency, roasted one whole on the spot.
That encounter reminded Galen of Humar the Pridelord, the legendary hunter's companion. Driven by whimsy, Galen mounted his newest prize an armored Hummer and teleported to his port before tracking down a lion pride to the north.
Among them was a striking black lion. Likely not the Humar, but perhaps his ancestor. It didn't matter. Galen wanted it.
The armored beasts under his command surrounded the pride. The skirmish ended quickly. Twenty-six lions were taken: twelve lionesses, six males, and eight cubs.
Azeroth's creatures, infused with the planet's abundant soul-energy, were stronger than average. Even ordinary adult lions had the strength of adept professionals. From the cubs, Galen picked the strongest, darkest one. The rest were tagged with tracking devices and released.
He named the cub Simba, and kept it close as a future companion. Hogg, upon seeing Simba, looked heartbroken—as if Galen had brought home another favorite child.
If only I were a hunter, Galen mused. But I'm not a mage either, and that hasn't stopped me from casting Blizzard or summoning water elementals.
What he needed was a high-level hunter under his command. With the right hero, Galen could tap into their skills—and potentially formalize the bond with Simba through a companion contract.
It's just a matter of resources. And I've got those.
After consoling Hogg's wounded pride, Galen got down to business.
"West of here lies a Gnoll tribe the White Manes," Galen said. "Your mission: infiltrate them and rise through the ranks. Become their leader. This is your first test."
The plan was simple—undercover conquest.
Hogg was well-qualified. Bigger and stronger than the average Gnoll, he'd have no trouble earning respect in their strength-worshipping society—even as an outsider.
This was Galen's version of diplomacy: first offer gifts. Then, if rejected, unleash the army.
He outlined the plan clearly: infiltrate the tribe, earn their trust, gain status. Galen would provide bait—resources for Hogg to distribute, goodwill to win support. Once Hogg had a following, he'd take out the current leader and step in as the obvious successor during the ensuing crisis.
No bloodshed. Total control.
Hogg listened intently, then bowed. "Master, your wisdom is unmatched."
Gandalf nodded sagely. "The prince is crafty indeed."
Dezco, upon hearing the assassination clause, shivered. "Thankfully, you're our divine envoy"
Galen just chuckled. "Come now, this is standard procedure. Don't look so shocked."