Twenty moons before the Day of Akkavan, a trader walked into the town of Ash and could not stop screaming. No one knew his name or where he came from, but along the Loam Road this was not uncommon. After attacking those who assisted him, he was thrown in the town cell reserved for drunkards and beggars. Many in Ash thought that he would eventually tire out or die, but after three moons he did neither. He sat in his cell, screaming perpetually at a spirit that could not be seen. He screamed in defiance of food and water and sleep.

Some suspected he was cursed by the gods and should be executed before the town became cursed along with it. Boah, the head of one of the nine trader families in Ash and a learned man, made the case that killing a sick and wounded man could just as easily curse the town as letting him live. With the debate at an impasse, the decision was made to send for a healer from the nearby village of Lockwood. A courier was sent to return with a healer within a fortnight.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Soon, some of the traders who had assisted the screaming man felt their heads grow hot and their posture heavy. Although many in Ash were habitual drinkers, few had felt hangovers to this extent. No amount of herbs could soothe their fevers. Soon, they stopped talking. Then, they too began to scream. The town cell had only ten cages, and near the end of the fortnight all of them were full and in danger of overflowing. At first, the guards plugged their ears to abate the screams, but it was no use. The guards abandoned the screamers to their cells, though they felt little remorse. The screamers needed no food or water, after all.

Soon the screams echoed down the roads. Few in Ash slept those nights.