Prepare for a journey to a new literary universe with fantasy, scifi, steampunk, and adventure rolled into one.
The land of Ruin is a brutal, harsh, and unforgiving desert with little water and less kindness. Do not mistake its brutality for lack o...
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The lonely wanderer peeked over the dune. The sun was setting now, casting a brilliant cocktail of orange, red, and rust hues upon the land. The shadow from his anchored land ship crawled eastward as he squinted and strained his eyes. His suspicions were verified. Ahead, behind an outcropping of rocks, the tattered sail of an overturned sloop fluttered in the breeze.
The wanderer's eyes darted around cautiously. He knew the age old axiom as good as any, "if it looks too good to be true, is probably is." This smelled like a trap. It felt like a trap. It probably was a trap but, desperation defies sense. Four days prior, a starving Suahm Lizard had attacked him in his land cutter.
The enormous creatures, sometimes up to three meters in length, typically avoided humans, instead preferring to feast on giant scarabs and other desert insects. However, when hungry enough, they could be a dangerous foe. He'd managed to kill the beast but not before it shredded his mainsail and snapped the mast in half during the scuffle. Since then, the wind had pushed his ship along on a lone jib sail. The only salvation for him now was a stop in at port.
He would rather have avoided civilization. What had it been? Nearly a year since he last stepped foot in a city? At least three months between now and his last dealings with a passing trade caravan for sure. When trading, he had taken to calling himself Jim. It wasn't his name but that name was lost to him long ago.
The wanderer "Jim" had lost his flair for conversation. Most people were off put by it. The desert had stripped away social skills over the years. All that mattered now was survival.
