Indigestion

After getting stomach cramps, resting in his bed, puking a few cactus nips, resting, crapping, and finally drifting off to sleep, he had a dream: He floated above the desert and below him he saw his band of bandits. They were flying like the wind upon their steeds, but he saw that something chased them. It was grotesque, it was huge, it was an anthropomorphic human heart! And then the man woke up. Daylight was streaming into his room although he had gone to sleep after sundown. He called for his wench but she did not come, he called again but she did not come, he called a third time and she entered... but not her, not his wench, rather an anthropomorphic heart dressed in a scullery-maid's clothing! And then he woke up. Again. Covered in sweat.

Nargis-Hei did not walk to the throne room of his tower today. He did not climb the many steps to the top floor to his room filled with treasure and booty from the clan's many raids. He did not sit upon his throne. He did not even get dressed in his black robes nor put on his purple bandana with the dodo feather sticking out from it. He did not put on his jewlery, and he left his two large scimitars on the table. He was still not feeling well and the dreams of the night plagued him with an eerie feeling. He had eaten many a heart in his life, but never with a kick to the head like last night.

From the window in his quarters he looked down upon his small settlement. His tower and citadel dominated the place and he felt comfort in being surrounded by many small mud dwellings and many narrow streets. Although Gnai Kah was off the beaten path it was not in the middle of nowhere, not in the true desert wastes, for nothing could survive in the Waste of the Calamari. He breathed in the hot dry air and was glad he lived on the Edge of the Waste, glad he did not have to deal with Zokkad or his minions nor with Emry and his minions on a daily, weekly nor even monthly basis. His was a bandit's life in a bandit's town, his was a town that was very much alive, even if only for the whim of Fate and the gods of underground springs.

Nargis-Hei began to laugh though it ached his stomach. He thought of the king's man whose corpse now lay in the body-banks of the physicians, he thought of Allaria. He spat threw his window and saw his spittle evaporate before hitting the ground. He thought of the man who claimed lordship over Gnai Kah and over him - warlord Zokkar the Terrible. He spat again, yet still his bodily fluid did not make it to the ground. ~~politics~~ thought Nargis-Hei. ~~my mother told me never to go into politics...~~ But he had, the simple act of beating up your lessers, of forming a gang about you, of roaming the lands of the Edge and southwards for people to fight, food to eat, commodoties to steal... in becoming a minor warlord he had entered the arena of politics. ~~such is life! he thought. Then his stomach gurgled again and he ran for the bucket which served as his toilet.

1. a day in the life of a minor Hespan warlord
2. parts is parts in the body-bank

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