The Ruins Between
The mule train skirted the mountains. Where elsewhere on the continent there were foothills providing a gradual introduction, here there just was. To the north lay desert and beyond that presumably something. But no one in Berdi’s knowing had even travelled that way. Even the nomads kept from attempting to cross it. The focus as ever was on the mountains and the ruins within.
Realms lost and forgotten were said to be spread amongst the valleys and peaks. Those adventurous enough sought them out to do little more than rob graves. Berdi was not one. He and his mule train plied the edges of the mountains waiting for those adventurers. Because as his grandmother had wisely said “don’t dig for gold when others are going to need the tools to do so.”
Berdi did just that. He sold provisions, weapons, tools and anything else those heading into the mountains needed. All for whatever was found by the very same adventurers. His racket was then transporting the treasures, and they all were no matter how small or nebulous of nature, to the cities.
The mules while dependable were equally reliable to be cranky and obstinate. So it was that Renar’s crew came upon Berdi in the process of disentangling one from its bridle. The creature neighed and bucked and bit in protest.
Today’s art is courtesy of Sasha Alentyeva from Moscow, Russia.