Tales From a Thousand Worlds

“You can not leave.”

The guard at the gate barred their way, holding up a hand to stop them. A tall man with a thin beard, he had a long scar across his face. The moon had not yet risen, and with the setting of the sun while they had collected their gear and mounts, the only light to be had came from a pair of flickering torches set to the wall of the gatehouse. They lent an ill favoured aspect to the guard’s scarred face, making him appear gaunt and his eyes to gleam alike unto that of a snake. His scimitar he gripped firmly though his spear and shield lay propped against the wall of the gatehouse.

Follow this link for Part Four of The Oasis of Broken Bones