It was a shitty deal. The offer Rokova put to the mortals was bad and he knew it, but he was taken be surprise by just how fast they found the nasty brute-king and he had to think fast. It would have been better to capture and disarm them, but they were a coordinated group and could tell he was full of shit. He stayed invisible as he watched them descend into The Pit of Screaming Ghosts. “Damned forbiddance! If I could just go down there myself!”
After they descend he gets to work. The stinking gnolls are in a panic. He races around from room to room, trying to assert his own dominance. But he knows there are other factions in play here. Many gnolls were uncomfortable with Madfang’s experimentations and want to harken back to the good old days of loot and pillage. Rokova knows his ties to Ghartok don’t score any points with this crew.
Still he tries. An hour passes. Then two. He has a good half the tribe under control when he hears the crashing sounds from the throne room. He puts a lieutenant in charge of the current round-up and goes investigates. That damned barbarian is punching through the wall! Shit, they…never-mind. Humans, so distracted.
“They slayer’s of the Carrion King are back! Forget our differences for know! We must band together and fight!”