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The Were-wolf and the Ghul

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For the :iconwerewolvesatheart: March 2015 monthly theme challenge: Werewolf Ecology 101
 
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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


Excerpt from the Journal of John Smidley: Collected by T. P. Hade of the Nonhuman Cultural Illumination Project


Editor’s Note- These events take place six years after Smidley’s return from the first United Northern Kingdoms expedition to the Saaraiah Desert. Vagier was a werewolf hired as a member of the guard. Upon his return Smidley published his collected journals complete with woodcuttings of his own creation. This is thought to be the first recorded account of the interaction between werewolf and desert ghoul.

 
The trade city of Ho Shalah, Saaraiah Desert, 10/12/1627 AK

 
On the matter of ghuls I had not expected to write this time around, but now that Vagier has succumbed I deemed it worthy of note.

 
The were-wolf was Barson’s mistake. No one who drinks that industriously and has the power to become a wild beast ought to be put in charge of the expedition’s safekeeping. He amused himself by slaughtering the scrawny goats of poor herders and terrorizing the natives with partial transformations, and paid no heed to Barson’s impotent threats of discipline. His ironic demise was, unsurprisingly, made possible by the consumption of large quantities of alcohol.

 
Our inn had a tavern with a large window which was kept open to let in the cool night air. Unbeknownst to us, the innkeeper had taken to the habit of leaving food out for the many ghuls which had wandered out of the wilderness to settle in the city. On that fateful night Vagier was seated with us, joking in a crude and boisterous manner, when he stiffened with a mad look in his eyes. He turned to the window, and we all saw it.

 
The ghul stretched from the windowsill and had its front paws resting on a nearby table. It licked scraps from a plate. It was smaller and less impressive than the trained man-killer we met while visiting the Shasiek tribe, the pet of Queen Amina. The innkeeper explained that we were welcome to feed it if we wished, and claimed that it would take food from our very mouths with the gentleness of a lamb.

 
The madness in Vagier’s eyes burned with an intensity I have never seen in another being. ‘Gods-cursed abomination,’ he whispered, shuddering as a man might when nearly treading on a snake.

 
He leapt from his seat, shredding his clothing with the suddenness of his transformation, and flung himself through the window after the fleeing ghul.

 
The men followed, laughing and joking that by the time the were-wolf returned home he would not have a stitch of clothing left in his pack. The little innkeeper stood by the doorway, wringing his hands in silence, an ashen look on his face.

 
The ghul did not made it far before Vagier pounced upon it. The noise it made was the most horrendous cry of rage and agony. Several times it slipped free or dealt a blow to its attacker, but what is the bravest rat in the jaws of a terrier? Had he not been drunk Vagier may have finished it off sooner, but by the time he crushed its head between his teeth his hide was riddled with wounds. He dropped the corpse in the street and limped to his room, not bothering to change back from his beastly form.

 
I apologized to the innkeeper in my best broken Haashon, and offered to help him remove the body. It stank of rotten meat, but also had a sweetness like that of dates about it. We took it to a rubbish heap nearby, and the next morning it was gone, taken perhaps by its kin for some mysterious funerary rite.

 
That was a week ago. For the last seven days we have watched the were-wolf tend to his festering wounds. The worst had laid open his arm so that the bone showed. He refused help, and even in his weakened state Barson was too nervous of him to try to change his mind. This morning we found him twisted like a poisoned dog in his bed. Our party will travel faster and lighter for the loss of him.”

 
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
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
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 Most Interesting GameLuke couldn’t banish the nagging fear from the surface of his mind. He spoke in a hushed voice, trying to sound casual, curious. “Do they bite?” he said.
Owen stopped and turned to look down over his shoulder. His eyes glowed yellow and he flashed a toothy grin. “Stop asking pup questions,” he said. “If it has a mouth, it can bite. And believe me, you don’t want to get nailed by one of these things. I know a guy, got his nose bit off. Clean off. And then his skin all rotted away around the wound. They call him Skull-Face Sam now.”
Owen lowered his nose to the ground again and continued walking. His claws clicked on the shabby cobblestones and the little glass vials tied to his belt made gentle clinks with every step he took. The other team was close enough to smell, but remained unheard.
Dread held Luke rooted to the spot for a few moments. He thought he could feel the chilly night air seeping through his pelt and caressing his skin. When

 
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Oly-RRR's avatar
Gosh, that's brutal. :saddummy: