A group of bandits steal a prized possession from a spellcaster, they quickly learn how the hunter can become the hunted.

The dry air of Ainland's deserts sucked at one's soul. The stifling heat wafered off the ground and the light would bounce off the ground and into it's victims eyes, blinding them if they weren't careful. Amidst this heat of death and endless land of shrubbery and venemous snakes walked Calim.

He walked confidently on as his ass harried to carry the various bundles and boxes he had saddled onto him, the burro panted healthily. Calim's grass green poncho helped wave the heat and sweat from his body. His animatedly large sunhat gave him shade, while a strip of light cloth acted as sunshades for his eyes, wrapped snugly in front of them, protecting him from light and dust.

He followed the familiar paths to his home, the quaint obode, Seer's Shanty. A raggedy clump of boards nailed to a large Junlop tree, the largest plant in the Ainland, With a height of 134 persons, this tree was long dead, merely a stump that the old mage converted to his home.

And there it is again. A creeping feeling clinging to me, digging into me like ice picks burying into the side of a glacier. I can't shake it, because I don't know what it is. I'm not sure what scares me more; the cold, or the mystery.