The Lonesome Road
An exiled glaive who sees beyond
The wastes seem empty, but they lie.
Communities, societies, beliefs and ideals thrive in the desert, as they always have. Thousands of years ago a desert shepherd gave the emptiness a name, a name that caused armies to march, cities to burn, ovens to choke with the bodies of the heathen.
The wastes seem empty but they lie.
The blasted sand of the desert is fertile ground for beliefs, but belief must be spread. Mind to mind, host to host. Religions of peace need killers. People of forgiveness need soldiers. The lamb lies down with the lion, and feasts on blood. This irradiated waste breeds zealots like flies, and zealots incite men to wage war for their gods. When there are two men left in the world, one will carry a gun for the other.
The exiled glaive who sees beyond was given weapons, taught techniques, endowed with knowledge. He is a soldier tempered by the wastes, but not born of them.
Zealots are bred by the desert.
Soldiers are trained by men.