Tales Under a Burning Sun

The raiders came in the dead of night. There were only a few of them, believing that the small settlement beside the muddy oasis would be easy pickings, they had come to kidnap people to sell into slavery. Though few in number the villagers defended themselves with ferocity, and the sibling herders were at the fore of driving away the raiders, who retreated to look for easier prey. The younger brother was the first to find the old ashik. The old man sat wheezing heavily beside the oasis, at his feet were the bodies of two raiders. One of the kidnappers had a bone dagger protruding from the centre of his chest and the other one's head lay at a very unnatural angle. The old ashik refused to say what had happened and as the villagers settled he once again began to spin his tale. Seizing the opportunity, Scar and Miloch rush through the open door catching the Human guard by surprise. Miloch swings his iron battleaxe at the guard and catches him a deep wound in his leg forcing him t...

The small child from the little, ramshackle village beside the muddy oasis laughed and giggled as she danced around the kank dung fire. Other children rushed up and joined her and the adults looked on with smiles on their faces. But the old ashik did not smile, his eyes held a thousand yard stare as they remembered happy times in his long life similar to this, but he did not smile because he knew that this harsh world had a habit of stealing that happiness as quickly as it appeared. As the children fell exhausted into their parents arms a hush came over the villagers and their eyes turned towards the old ashik, the old man took a swig of water and cleared his throat before picking up his story once again. The sartorially dressed feral halfling Fleck sat down on the edge of Balboa’s bed, his eyes never leaving Scar and the grin never leaving his face, and tells them that the Weary Artisan has an entrance into the Under Tyr and that Krakus the Mul charges people to enter the Under Tyr,...

The old ashik continued his tale, it was as if he would never stop. As if this was going to be the last thing that he ever did and he had to get it told. He had been telling it with such regularity that the brothers really felt it’s absence when he wasn’t talking. Others in the village would ask what had happened and the siblings would have to give them short summaries of what the old ashik had said. And then those villagers would tell their children and so the story was told, and retold. Having left the caravan behind at first light the group of freed slaves trekked up into the foothills taking the narrow path that they had followed once before. It wasn’t long before both Kank and Scar started to complain about feeling ill, and then being physically sick by the side of the track. Both Scar and Balboa failed to discern what had caused them to be ill, and both Kank and Scar felt weakened by the illness but they were strong enough to carry on and so they continued up the path. By midda...

As the afternoon sun beat down upon them, the old ashik snoozed quietly and the brothers got ready to move their herd of kank to a small patch of vegetation on the far side of the muddy oasis. As soon as they started to cajole the herd the old man startled awake, he looked up at the sibling herders and decided to join them. As he did so he started to resume his tale. The big Mul could tell that it was a lioness and that she had slain the running Gith, he knew that the Gith was dead because he could see that the mountain lion was feeding upon its carcass. Kank also got his first real look at the beast and could see that she was huge. He backed off quickly from the lithe creature and made his way back through the darkness towards his companions to tell them what had happened. He reached the other two Gith and could see his friends drawing close and so he stopped and began to search the bodies. One of the Gith was still clinging to life but Kank, with his hatred of the foul race, left...