From the skeletons, it was clear that the two mountain goats must have been fat and strong when they were alive. Now their bellies were swollen, as if they were pregnant and about to give birth. The goats' bellies, which had been cut open, were roughly sewn shut with coarse twine. The large, clumsy stitches were a miracle in themselves for holding together; surprisingly sturdy, they withstood the gnolls' handling without bursting open.
The gnoll manager answered respectfully, "Lord, the task is complete. This one has seven inside its stomach, and the other has eight. We can't fit any more."
"Very good," Gaven nodded in satisfaction, "Leave the goats here and all of you step back."
"Yes, Lord," the gnoll manager responded, waving his hand to the group of gnolls, who scurried away swiftly. They didn't leave completely but huddled around a corner, poking their heads out and observing curiously, their lizard-like faces unable to hide their excitement.
