Deviation Actions
Literature Text
O-Hambar Oasis, Saaraiah Desert, 8/12/1621 AK
It [the oasis] provides respite for not only body but mind as well. Here the tribesmen reveal their penchant for the arts, primitive though their understanding of aesthetics may be. The best artists display their work on tanned hides, and wait to be commissioned to paint their visions on canvases which will be used to erect the walls of tents. Their methods are simplistic, but lovely to behold. A few broad brushstrokes bring to life the flora of an oasis, a woman carrying water from a well, or a lively scene of tribal warfare. I decided to make a purchase of one of the smaller canvases so that Father could evaluate its worth as a novelty item.
While browsing I came upon a rendering that was as hideous as the other scenes were beautiful. It depicted a pair of creatures formed like starved grey-hounds, but possessing a disturbingly human twist to their limbs. They lacked the fur and tail of a werewolf, and their ears were disproportionately large to their heads. One crouched on four paws while the other stood on two like a man. They stared over some poorly defined precipice which separated them from a pair of men at camp. You could almost see their muscles rippling, the hungry gleam in their eyes as they planned the doom of their prey. I shuddered.
[Our translator] Al-Keffan was with me, to make introductions and school me in the art of bartering. Noticing my expression, he nodded at the artist. He conversed in a tribal tongue, seemingly forgetting my presence, and I could only pray he was not making extravagant offers using the supplies Father had lent me for the expedition. After a time their talk slowed, and they laughed merrily, and I concluded that they must be old friends.
Al-Keffan waved a hand at the ugly painting. “Ashrun knows the ghuls,” he said. “He captures their image, as they watch us. Good spell for increasing alertness. Less trouble from bandits.”
I wasn’t in the mood for more tribal hokum, but the thought of these monstrosities being used to evoke protection piqued my curiosity. It was just the kind of story Father would be able to embellish to up the price of an exotic piece. I addressed Ashrun, saying, “They are real then, these ghuls? What are they?”
Ashrun was older than Al-Keffan, and there was sand in his face and in his voice. “They are the desert’s children,” he said through Al-Keffan. “I give offerings, and they come for me. Every ghul in O-Hambar is a friend.”
His face cracked with a brown-toothed smile.
I was suddenly aware of the cooling air, of the sun’s nearness to setting. The oasis felt less welcoming now that my mind populated it with hungry shapes moving in the darkness. I asked, “How do you keep them away?”
Ashrun gave a sharp, childish laugh. “Have the watchman sit on the food,” he said.
Al-Keffan offered a reassuring smile. “Do not fear,” he said. “If you are harmed while staying here, Ashrun’s ghuls may help you.”
This I doubted very much, but by now I couldn’t help myself. “How so?” I asked.
After more rapid conversation and waving of hands Ashrun settled into a leisurely storytelling pace. In summary, this is his claim, a supposedly true event he participated in five years previously.
The body of a woman was discovered on a well path. She had been strangled under cover of darkness. She had no enemies, and the only clue was a scrap of cloth found clutched in one hand. Unable to identify its owner, the elders summoned Ashrun and had him call for the ghuls.
The creatures hunt in pairs and there are several dens located in and around the oasis. The tribesmen do not disturb these, in order to avoid bad luck as much the formidable teeth and claws. One of these pairs came to Ashrun, and with the elders as witnesses, he gave them the scrap of the murderer’s clothing.
The ghuls revealed the killer’s name using a tribal tongue, which his ancestors had taught them to speak many generations ago. They did not know the man by name or face or scent, as they avoid unfamiliar humans. Al-Keffan called this a “home impression,” a magical ability which allows the ghuls to touch objects such as boundary markers and sense the identity of their owners. The elders confronted the man with their evidence and he confessed. He had chosen his victim at random, hoping no one would draw a connection between them. He was beheaded.
Incredulous, I asked Ashrun how anyone could trust such evidence.
With that same child-like good cheer, he said, “Ghuls are honorable people.”
He said this as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. And that is how you know you are in Saaraiah.
I traded for a painting of a sunset and palm trees.
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The Ghul QueenPrevious
Excerpt from the Journal of John Smidley: Collected by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project
Shasiek territory, Saaraiah Desert, 9/24/1621 AK
Today I met a ghul. The foul thing urinated on my personal tent and vomited in the mess tent. I hesitate to call any day in Saaraiah normal, but this departed further than usual.
Perhaps I should not think too ill of the beast. He could hardly be expected to understand civilized behavior. His master has no such excuse. A Queen shouldn’t belch in front of guests.
Al-Keffan was elated to see his negotiations with the Shasiek come through. He had us rearrange our tents in a pattern which would communicate our status at a glance to their Queen. It felt a silly waste of time given that he could only convince her highness to visit and dine for a few hours. Barson gave one of his dry little laughs when he saw my tent beside his. The oaf remains ungrateful for Father’s contribut
One of the earliest references made by “civilized society” to the existence of ghouls.
Word count- 845
Desert Ghoul Creation MythThe Shaper Creates Earth from the Carcass of a Lion: A Desert Ghoul Myth as Recorded from Oral Form by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project
In the beginning was the black sky, and all matter existed in the form of the few beings which dwelled in it. The stars wandered it like restless flocks of birds. They were pursued by two beings- the Great Lion, which preyed upon them, and The Shaper, who loved their beauty. (Author’s Note- though a god-like figure, The Shaper is viewed more as a force of nature, and does not require worship to encourage him to maintain order in the world.)
The Shaper herded some stars together into clusters which took the shape of beasts capable of fending off the Great Lion, but his work was slow, and the Lion was hungry. The Shaper feared he would be left all alone in an empty sky, so he made up his mind to kill the Lion.
He took the long bone from his leg and scraped away a sharp point on one end with his teeth. This end he thru
The Selfish MateThe Selfish Mate: A Desert Ghoul Folk Tale as Recorded from Oral Form by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project
Once there was a selfish male named Tuuk. His mate was Auwt, and she was a kind, thoughtful female.
It happened that Auwt became ill, and could not exert herself for long without succumbing to exhaustion. Tuuk promised to bring her food until she was strong enough to again leave the den and hunt with him.
On the first night of hunting alone Tuuk discovered a nest of snakes. He dug them up and ate them, so happy to fill his belly he could think of nothing else. When there was only one tiny snake left he remembered his mate. He brought the snake to her and said, “All night I have wandered the territory, and this was all I could find.”
Auwt took it and patted him on the hand. “May a thousand blessings return your generosity,” she said.
On the second night of hunting alone Tuuk discovered a patch of desert melons. He gobbled them up, so h
The Human's DaughterThe Human’s Daughter: A Desert Ghoul Legend as Recorded from Oral Form by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project
Once there was a little female named Zief. She was much loved by her parents, but to her misfortune they were foolish people. They took risks where they were not needed. When she grew old enough to accompany them on hunts, they began teaching her how to steal from the wandering human tribes who passed through their territory.
One night they left her in a thorn bush and told her to watch how they took food or clothing or other items from the human’s tents while they slept. They underestimated the alertness of the human watchman, and were seen as they left with arms full of treasures. The humans shot them full of arrows, and they died before Zief’s eyes.
It so happened that this tribe had made enemies of other tribes, as is common among humans. One of these tribes watched from a distance for a chance to attack, and saw it in the distraction
Dinner DateOn his way to meet his beloved Verg trotted by the building where humans cut up dead animals to prepare for their strange custom of cooking. The gentle night breeze wafted alluring scents from the back, while confirming that no humans lingered about. The runoff collecting in muddy pools ensured the slaughterhouse’s placement at the edge of town, where few humans had to live within scenting-distance. For the Ghoul community it was a priceless location for raising a family.
Verg flopped in one of the puddles and rolled on his back, kicking his legs in the air. It felt so good he grinned like a child, tongue lolling out between broken yellow teeth. When the scent was well ground into his tattered clothing he rose, shook himself, and continued on his way.
Taim’s den was an hour’s trot outside of town. Usually she didn’t bother to make the trek, choosing instead to hunt meager game in the semi-wild region. Better to live with hunger than leave your child unguarded in
