Chapter 1: The Empty Road to Dushku
The wee hours of the morning pressed in on all sides; not a soul slept under the stars of this desert. Then: a soft footfall among the sand, the breeze whipping and distorting its whispery echo. Then: craters, their appearance sudden in the surface of this smooth, abandoned moonscape. Then: the road, cradled by dunes, yielding a solitary, sure-footed figure.
The traveler wondered at the starkness of this road, so replete of fellow voyagers. Surely this was an oddity; during the day, the way to Dushku was normally teeming with caravans and lone journeymen alike. At night, there was not nearly as large a throng, but a few tents could still be seen. But tonight...tonight there was no one.
The whuffling of the dogs bounced in a stage whisper across the desert. Their keepers panted to keep up, which betrayed their natures to an extent; none of these men ever accelerated to more than a brisk stride.
Captain hiked to the top of the nearest dune. Looking out across the dusty expanse, he grimaced with satisfaction.
"This is the way, men."
Almost instantaneously, the hounds began to bay as they picked up the scent that matched that of the shoe held in one keeper's black-gloved hand. The party picked up speed and began to trot towards the village. Their quarry was ahead, and it was alone.
The chill breeze raised dark hairs on the traveler's arms. It would be in your best interest to hot-foot it, now wouldn't it, an inner voice nagged; the late-night spots, with their veiled windows and dankly lit interiors, would be locking their doors against fingers of dawn.
...A droplet of rain appeared on the outstretched palm of the traveler, who sighed. The empty road to Dushku sighed back. It would be a long night.