Hassan

USED CAMELS ARE BEST CAMELS!

Hassan, also known as Crazy Hassan, is a used camel salesman. He's about average build with dark skin and silver teeth dot his broad smile; he wears dusty robes. Atop his head is a turban and atop his turban is a fez. Some say he's a universal singularity, other say he's a time traveler. What we do know is that whenever you are in need of cheap and affordable transport, Hassan's tent will be there. Although the customers may be baffled to see him, he will nonetheless try (and succeed) to sell them camels and camel-related accessories. He will usually throw in a pack of dates and other seemingly unrelated items like a jacket that's about a size too big for anyone who receives it. Every customer that is visited by Hassan leaves with a camel, whether they wanted one or not.

The most peculiar thing about Hassan's business is that he will conduct it anywhere. He operates mostly in the desert, but can (and will) show up in tundra, north pole, grasslands, sea shores and other terrain types. Always with camels.

His camels themselves are equally mysterious. As far as anyone has been able to discern from them, they are indeed regular Camelus Dromedarius. He may carry other breeds as well if asked, however there is nothing special or magical about them. But when Hassan sells you a camel, it will perform exactly to his specifications.

Hassan also has a wife. Some say she's a princess, or a queen. Others say she's a desert beauty, rescued by Hassan himself from a life in a Harem. She herself is part of the mystery surrounding Hassan's presence. She is a skilled rider of many mounting beasts, not just camels and her beauty is beyond compare.

The Origins of Crazy Hassan

Hassan was doomed.

He knew it. There was denying his fate no, as the midday sun beat relentlessly on him, burning his exposed flesh ever deeper. He lied sprawled on the shifting sand, his legs and arms to weary to continue. He could neither walk or crawl or even cry for help as the desert slowly started to devour him.

He had been mad, he sobbed, to have tried to cross the Sea of the Torturous Sands this time of year, but he had been given no choice. The camel had to get through, they were needed there to help the people, to build a new future by rebuilding the destruction the war had brought.

The camels. Allah most gracious, the camel! They were surely doomed, he mourned. He had led them to near exhaustion miles away from any water, not even they could survive out here he realized. Not only had he killed himself and failed his customers, but he had harmed his camel...

His lower body was covered by the shifting sand now, but he did not struggle, the desert had judged him unfit to live and would take him into its bosom, to be wracked with pain and thirst forever. He thought of all those he had let down, would they ever know the truth about him or how he died? He prayed they wouldn't, he prayed his god would forgive him, and he prayed his camel would make it...

He felt a tug on his ragged shirt. Slowly, Hassan turned his face to the side. Above him, looking expectantly was his lone remaining camel.

"Flee, my good camel! Away with you...there is not but death here! Leave me, for I have failed you!"

Yet the camel paid him no heed. With a rumbling grunt, the camel lowered it's head a bit down on Hassan's tunic again.

"No, let go!...flee..."

Slowly the camel started to drag him from the sand. Hassan emerged from his half grave, still begging and sobbing for the camel to let him die in his shame. Yet, the camel seemed not to hear or care for his command. With one ragged step after another, it began to walk backwards and drag Hassan along the dunes.

Hassan pleaded once more before his senses betrayed him and he lost consciousness to the heat...

A cold splash hit his face. Hassan blinkingly opened his eyes. Was he dead, had he arrived in paradise? A thousand questions raced through his mind when he saw his surroundings. He was in oasis, one that was familiar to him no less and only a short walk from his destination. He looked at the pool of crystal clear water beside him and began to drink rapidly. Content with his fill he looked up and saw him.

His camel, lying motionless but for a few rattling breaths, watched him from behind. He hurried over to it's side and fell to his knees at his head. Still weak, he flopped forward onto the body of the great animal. He wrapped his arms as tightly as his strength allowed and weeped bitter tears, he knew he was tooo late.

"I'm...sorry..."

The camel slowly turned it's head to him. It's deep dark eyes said everything Hassan would ever have to know. With a last gasp, the camel died in his arms.

"I will never do such evil again..."

A few days later, his strength returned and the camel buried in a non-descript grave, a man left the oasis. He had come called Hassan, a beaten and broken man on the edge of life. He would leave, not as a man, but something more.

He was Crazy Hassan and the world would hear of his great deals.

Crazy Hassan Anecdotes and Tales

Do I need a camel?

Of course you need camel! Everyone need camel! I am Crazy Hassan, and I have a used camel specially for YOU! Camels last twice as long as horses, drink a third of the water, and just between you and me, look very nice. But come, you must see my camels! A camel for all situations and all permutations! You are stuck in space? I have space camel! Comes with it's own helmet and rocket! Buy now, I'll throw in bottle of fresh, best-quality air for free! Need to cross the ocean? Aqua-camel! Comes with its own waterwings! Great bargain - you buy the body and two legs, I'll throw in another two legs FREE! I have sold camels to everyone! No complaints! Tell your friends, tell your family! Bargain camels, almost never used! Ah, that one spit on you, it must like you!

And remember, ALWAYS SHOP AT CRAAAAAZY HASSAN'S FOR ALL YOUR CAMEL NEEDS!!

"So I sent my idiot brother to town the other day to buy a cow. Only problem? He passes Crazy Hassan's on the way into town. The moron came back two hours later with a camel, painted white with black spots. Praise Pelor I didn't send him after a dozen chickens..."

"I decided to climb a mountain once. After a few weeks of grueling toil, I reach the top, and who's there? It's motherfucking Crazy Hassan. He says something about trying to breed his camels with the local goats to toughen them up, but apparently his camels were tougher already. Then he gets on his personal camel and barrels the fuck down the mountainside, hollering the entire way. I think his camel pissed on the absolute peak, too."

"There was a time when I would only ride Thoroughbred Arabian Stallions. Things change when you see a man do Thriller in the middle of a desert with a herd of camels."

"We showed up at the port to find that pretty much every ship was destroyed during a storm. At first it seemed like there was no way to get across the ocean. We went to town anyways to find a tavern and rethink our plan when we stumbled across Crazy Hassan's tent. He burst out like he knew we were coming. He tells us he's got sea camels. We look over and there are six camels with snorkels and flippers. If it were anyone else we'd have them admitted, but Hassan's never lied to us before. I just wished they smelled better when they're wet. The Date air freshener doesn't work all that well."

"I once went to crazy hassan's for a camel, and he sold me what looked like a very poor fake camel, with two men inside.

So, I unzipped the camel, and as I expected. Two men, pretending to be a camel.

Enraged, I went back to Crazy Hassan, and confronted him about this fuckery. He made no reply. He simply unzipped the men to reveal two camels, pretending to be men pretending to be a camel."

Hassan and the Bandits

There was a bandit group, who used herds of camels strapped with explosives to cause massive terror in one of the towns isolated in the deep desert.

The town was built around the only well for miles, so the camels would be drawn to the water. Every time a man came too close to a camel to remove the explosive powder or guide the camel away, the bandits would fire a flaming arrow into the powder, killing the camel and however was foolish enough to be so close.

Hassan, traveling through on his way to the northern markets of a country far away, saw this madness.

No one is certain how one man dealt with so many in one night, but the bandits were found the next day, their bodies arranged to depict a huge camel in the sand. For all the dead camels he could scavenge, he buried them around the dead bandits, and marked their place with a small obelisk of pure marble, with only the word "Peace" written on them. All the other camels that had survived, he led into the desert. I have heard since that he found them loving homes and included the explosive powder with them as a free option.

The graves seemed more randomly placed, until Hakim yelled from the top of his house the next day. The stones, when properly connected by lines in the sand, formed words I will never forget:

"Crazy Hassan Here,

Good Camel Prices"

Crazy Hassan in Alaska

The freezing wind howled relentlessly through the valley, and Zac was already chilled to the bones. He had wanted to search for gold in the upper regions of Alaska, as the town-near gold mines were already exhausted. Now he was alone with his four huskies, probably fifty miles from the next outpost, and he could feel that he wouldn’t make it any longer. He knew that there had to be gold here, but even if he found it, he wouldn’t be able to bring it back home. Suddenly, the cold wasn’t that cold anymore, his vision blurred and he could feel his limbs going numb. As he looked around, he saw his huskies yelping desperately, even to them, the cold was unbearable. There was no shelter in sight, and Zac prepared to freeze to death in this merciless blizzard, slowly falling unconscious. His last sight was his huskies dropping to the frozen ground, eyes closed and silent.

A dizzy feeling rose to his head as Zac opened his eyes, feeling strangely comfortable and warm. Was he already in heaven? There, in the flickering light of a campfire, he could make out a human shape coming closer towards him. He tried to sit upright and instantly fell down as he felt the pain piercing through his body, but he was able to remain conscious.

“WELCOME, GOOD FRIEND! I AM CRAZY HASSAN AND I SELL BEST USED POLAR CAMELS IN WORLD!”

Abruptly, Zac bolted upwards and literally stood in his bed. With a weak voice, he answered: “Um... hello, good sir. My name is Zacharias Lebinsky.”

“HELLO, ZACHABINSKY! NOW YOU COME AND LOOK AT POLAR CAMELS! I MAKE GOOD PRICE! DEAD DOGS FOR CAMELS! HURRY, TIME TO MAKE BUSINESS!”

Zac took a closer look at the strange person yelling at him. He had a normal physique, a huge black beard and piercing eyes that shot a piercing glance at him. He was clad in white animal hide of an origin Zac couldn’t make out... but wait, what was this about ‘polar camels’?

The man who referred to himself as Crazy Hassan dragged him out of the bed, and only then Zac realised that he was in a huge tent. “NOW PUT ON CLOTHES TO COME OUT AND LOOK AT POLAR CAMELS!” Hassan shouted, a frightening grin on his face that exposed his beaming teeth.

Baffled, Zac did as he was told, slowly putting on a thick white fur coat and following Crazy Hassan out of the tent. It was still cold out there, but the fur gave him comfortable warmth. As he saw the snow-white camels, his jaw dropped. Crazy Hassan hadn’t lied. He had POLAR CAMELS! Then he noticed that the camels were feasting on his dead huskies.

“NOW WE SHALL LOOK FOR GOOD POLAR CAMELS FOR YOU!” Crazy Hassan shouted and dragged Zac along with him, towards a majestic, huge polar camel that had a slightly blue touch in his white fur. “WHERE HUSKIES DIE, POLAR CAMELS JUST GO ON! LOOK AT THIS ONE, FRIEND! NAME IS GUILLICAMEL! VERY GOOD, VERY STRONG! BUT MUST ACCEPT AS SPIRITUAL LIEGE TO RIDE IT!”

The camel snorted arrogantly at Zac, its head held up high. Zac grimaced and followed Crazy Hassan to the next pair of polar camels that looked very similar, but then also very different. It seemed like they were fighting each other for no apparent reason.

“FOURCAMEL AND THREEFIVECAMEL, VERY GOOD POLAR CAMELS! VERY KIND! MUCH FUN TO RIDE IT, BUT FIGHTING! DO NOT RIDE BOTH TOGETHER! FORMER USERS COULDN’T DECIDE WHICH ONE BETTER!”

Zac raised an eyebrow but remained silent; Crazy Hassan was already stroking the next polar camel. It had purple fur on its head and its many teeth were sharp and threatening, but at the same time it looked really adorable. On its back were several markings, probably of former owners.

“CAMELTIST, IS CUTE, NOT? VERY NICE POLAR CAMEL! HAD BAD OWNER, POOR CAMEL! TREAT NICELY, YES? VERY GOOD PRICE, WILL NEVER DIE!”

Zac stroked the polar camel, a strange bacon odour filled his nostrils and he immediately liked the animal. How could such a... thing be so adorable? Crazy Hassan nodded pleased and stroked his beard, then he winked at Zac. With a low voice, he said: “and now, crazy hassan shows very clever polar camel.”

He lifted his turban and to Zac’s bewilderment, a massive polar camel with a green cloak jumped down. It smoked a big cigar and grinned knowingly.

“IT’S URSARCAMEL! TACTICAL GENIUS, IT IS! VERY CLEVER! VERY GOOD! GOOD PRICE!” Crazy Hassan shouted euphorically.

Suddenly, Zac thought that he had heard the wind howling “CREEEEEEEEEED!”, but this was ridiculous, so he quickly dismissed the thought.Crazy Hassan leaned close to Zac and grinned insanely. But despite this closeness, he shouted at him in his selling voice: “NOW, FRIEND! WHAT POLAR CAMEL DO YOU DESIRE? VERY GOOD PRICE, YES? WILL GIVE YOU CAMEL FOR MEAT OF DEAD DOGS! MUST MAKE DEAL, YES? YOU WILL FIND GOLD, CRAZY HASSAN GIVES CAMELS! THEN WE MAKE PROFIT!!!”

He danced around Zac and let out cries of joys – or at least it looked like that, maybe he wanted to bait polar bears for his polar camels. Not that Zac had another choice, but actually, it seemed like a good plan to him. So he said: “Well, seems like a good plan to me.”

Crazy Hassan jumped and shouted jubilantly: “WE MAKE DEAL! VERY GOOD! USED POLAR CAMELS ARE BEST CAMELS! HURRY, BIG PROFIT AWAITS US! NOW, TO MAKE DEAL, YOU SHALL RIDE TO TOWN, MAKE CONTRACT! TAKE MY PERSONAL USED POLAR CAMEL!”

He opened a huge cage and a wild used yellow polar camel with red spots dashed out. Unimpressed, Crazy Hassan took its harness and pulled strongly. “NOW, NOW, YOU’RE AN ANGRY CAMEL, CAMELTOE! BUT I LIKE YOU!”

He looked at Zac and grinned again. “IT’S CAMELTOE, MY FAVOURITE USED POLAR CAMEL! VERY STRONG, VERY GOOD! WE RIDE TO CITY TO MAKE CONTRACT! HURRY, MUST MAKE PROFIT!”

Zac couldn’t help but smiling at the strange man with his strange steed, but he followed Crazy Hassan to Cameltoe. Together, they rode with the used polar camels to the city, only sometimes Cameltoe dashed together with Guillicamel towards some beings Crazy Hassan referred to as ‘Word Bears’, while the yellow polar camel neighed something like: “FUCKING HERETICS! DIE, TRAITOROUS SCUM! FUCK!”

But in the end, they reached the city relatively unscathed, only Fourcamel and Threefivecamel couldn’t end their quarrel.

As Zacharias Lebinsky looked back at the story years later, he was sure that meeting Crazy Hassan was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He wondered if the old man had finally realized his dream of selling used submarine camels to merfolk, but he was sure that there was no one who could refuse an offer from this man.

Crazy Hassan and the Lack of Camels

Amen, I say to you, I saw Crazy Hassan once. When I was a younger man, so many years ago he came to our village walking at the head of his camels. He set about to his works and raised his storefront just outside the village center and began to sell his wares.

For every camel he sold, he would give another as thanks to the customer. This caused quite a stir among the people and soon the entire town gathered around him, hoping for such a good deal. As it went, he handed off his last camel, but he looked dismayed to see me standing alone and camel-less.

He called out to me, "My good friend! A thousand apologies! If you would but give me six days to return to the city and back, I shall return with a camel for you, at great discount!"

I graciously bowed to him, "Good sir, I am but a poor man, I can neither afford nor desire a camel. I would never be able to care for it with what little money I have, I come instead with questions if you could offer me answers?"

He seemed confused for a moment, before bidding me to go on.

"Why did you walk, rather than ride a camel across the desert?" I asked

"To do so would use the camel more, and cheat my customers! I would never hurt their deal!"

"Why do you give so many away, when they could have as easily been sold?"

"Because I am crazy! Ha, ha! Just still, I would never deny my customers a good deal!"

"Why would you walk the a six day journey to the nearest city and return to sell just one camel to one poor man?"

"Because you are my customer. It matters not if you have bought from me, everyone is Crazy Hassan's customer!"

I bowed to him and thanked him for humoring my questions, I wished him luck on his future journeys and said I would pray for his continued happiness before I left him, the first and last time I would ever see him.

Three days later, I awoke to a great sound outside my small home. I walked out the front door and looked upon more camels than I had ever seen, all in a great pen with a note on the gate post. It read:

"To my good friend,

For all the money I could ever make selling camels, I would trade for your kindness again. For though Crazy Hassan has crazy prices, he knows the true value of things. I humbly offer these camels to you as thanks.

Hassan"

"And that my, young grand children is how I became the owner of the largest camel heard in all the desert. I have lived my life doing to others as I thought Hassan would like, treating others as a favored customer always. Never forget this man, I beg you, for he was a man like no other."

Crazy Hassan and the Sultan of Al-Rukar

"Your sword is buckled correctly, for once."

"Yes, Sharif."

"Tell me boy... did you ever hear of the battle of Moab Bridge?"

"No, Sharif."

"The Great Sultan Al-Rukar fought there, for the last time in this world. You are sure you have not heard of it?"

"No, Sharif."

"In truth, Al-Rukar was killed before the battle even begun. A stray arrow caught him in the heart, and he died that very moment on the back of his camel. Do you know much about camels, boy?"

"No, Sharif."

"Al-Rukar bought his camel from a fine merchant named Hassan..." "...and even though his master was dead, the camel of Al-Rukar rode on. It led the charge upon the forces of the enemy, and everywhere a soldier faltered, or felt pressed by overwhelming odds, he had but to look behind him to see the glorious presence of his sultan, bolstering him. How could he fail now, beneath the gaze of Al-Rukar, the most mighty of kings?"

"..."

"When the opposing army finally broke, the corpse of Al-Rukar pursued them atop the back of his camel. Neither was ever seen again in this world. Are you nervous about the coming battle, Ali?"

"N-Yes, Sharif."

"Do not be. I too, purchased my camel from Crazy Hassan."

Crazy Hassan and the Battle of Sallahra VII

Abbadon cackled insanely as he watched the Imperial Guard lines start to buckle under his assault. The waves upon waves of gibbering spawn, supported by his own chaos space marines was now unstoppable. The hidden Demolisher tanks had been dealt with already, he feared them no more. This was going to be his day.

He redoubled his laughter, the guardsmen were starting to break. The bolt pistols of Commissars sang out along the entire line trying to keep the rabble in place. All it would need was one more push, one last assault. Abaddon began to run for the front, he would finish this personally, he had beaten Creed's plan and now he would torture the fool. This was going to be glorious slaughter in the name of dark go--

The thundering rage of stampede ten thousand feet strong roared over the din of battle. Abaddon looked confused toward his flank.

Tallarn rough riders! Thousands of them descending from the hill crest, literally trampling over his flank! The spawn seemed confused, the were hesitant to charge, his army was falling apart around him. It must of taken some kind of tactical gen--

"CCCCRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-"

Wait. His mind cleared. He had personally watched the Tallarn horses slaughtered and feasted upon not three days ago, there was no way the cavalry could of replaced such losses in so short a time!

He looked closer a the riders in the distance. To his astonishment, they weren't riding horses at all, but a strange creature that resembeled--

"Camels?" Abbadon asked to no on in particular.

Then the truth dawned on him,

"CRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZY HAAASSSSAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAN!"

Crazy Hassan and the Seaside Town

A great fire had razed the port town. Nearly all ships had sunk, those still afloat were still burning. At first all seems lost, there is no way you're going to get across the ocean in time. Dejected you venture in to town where most of the buildings seem to have only minor damage. While looking for the taver you come across a familliar sight. Crazy Hassan's Used Camels.

Hassan's head pops out of the tent, his head darts around until he spots you. It's almost like he knew you were coming.

Hassan runs up to you eagerly.

"Greetings! You need ship? I sell you ship! Cheap! Quality! I sell you sea camels!"

You look over and see a camel wearing water wings on it's front legs and a snorkel.

Crazy Hassan and the Centaur Kingdom

King Gerald, crusher of skulls, trampler of fiends and lord of all centaurs by birth right surveyed his domain from the highest tower of his castle. Long did his forest roam, as far as the eye could see. His nation was a mighty one, a force to be reckoned with. Yet still, there seemed to be something missing in his army. True, the clip clop of his forces was a sound feared by many but yet he still felt as if his strength waned.

He shook his head, and decided to not dwell on such matters for too long. He would have to go to the Great Court, where matters of state and importance would be brought to him so he may judge what actions are necessary. The tall and strong centaur king declined down the ramps of his castle and to the main hall, where he would take his place on the royal podium. From there his vizier brought to him all matters that needed his attention. As usual when he reached there the vizier, a wizened and kindly centaur, was awaiting him. But something was off today, his most trusted servant was uneasy. He let the matter pass and decided to go on with his duties.

“Come now vizier, tell me of what needs to be done today. I wish to quit this damnable court so I may continue to work on matters that need my attention far more!” King Gerald barked, a royal who had never learnt the phrase “indoor voice”.

The vizier gulped and spoke up nervously “Yes, my liege. I think, perhaps, that what you should see to first is an urgent meeting with a foreign merchant…”

“A MERCHANT? You trouble me with a mere merchant? Surely there are matters more deserving of my attention?”

“Well, my liege, this one was rather persistent, he bared through the castle and asked to see you directly, and you’ll see he’s rather odd case…”

The doors, strong and sturdy oak, burst open. Out came a rider atop a camel, brown of skin with slightly scruffy desert suitable clothing. Most noticeable was a wide smile on his face and a wild look in his eyes. “Hello, new and valued customer! I could not wait to bring my deals to you, and the joy of owning a camel! I am Crazy Hassaan!” Crazy Hassaan announced with a pleased boom, that echoed through the hall. The various nobility stared aghast, the vizier even more put on edge and the king only staring blankly, not recognizing what had taken place. The silence of various people trying to get a grip on what was going on lasted only a short moment, however.

“How dare you! You come here when I announce, you filthy grubby little…” fumed King Gerald, with an intense bellow.

“Do not be angry! Is happy time! Soon you too like many other customers shall know joy of owning camel!” Crazy Hassaan beamed, the smile never wider.

The King stared down, blinked, and took time to recognize what the strange merchant was saying.

“Camels? CAMELS? We’re bloody centaurs, man! We don’t need bloody camels!” King Gerald shouted, frustration cracking through his voice.

A silence broke over the court. Time seemed to slow. Crazy Hassaan stopped smiling, and stepped down from his camel. The rest of the court, left rigid, could only watch as he made his approach to the King. The guards did nothing, too shocked by the strange turn of events to even register they should be stopping the merchant. Crazy Hassaan stopped directly in front of the podium and looked directly into the king’s eyes.

“EVERYONE” Boomed Crazy Hassaan, gripping the podium.

“NEEDS” He continued, face contorting into a scowl, a scowl that chilled the king to the bone, and gripping the podium even tighter.

“CAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELS!” His voice boomed, nearly causing ear damage to the King, his grip so tight on the podium that it cracked slightly and a rage inside his eyes that haunted the King until his dieing days.

As soon as the rage had started, it has swept over him and Crazy Hassaan beamed a beautiful smile.

“Now then, how many wonderful camels can I have you for, oh valued customer?” Crazy Hassaan asked joyfully.

And that is the story of why the centaur nation has a thousand camels, and why it is a feared military power that strikes fear into many race. For, as Crazy Hassaan pointed out, nothing breaks enemy morale like being spat upon by camels.

Crazy Hassan and the King of the Britons

This battle would be remembered for ever. At least by Richard - the sound of hooves, the scorching hot sun, the clang of armor. Familiar feeling took over him - not nervousness, not fear, something else. He called it the battle fever.

His cavalry line was charging towards the enemy. An arrow volley blocked out the sun for a while, but he ignored it. Some of his riders screamed their screams of death, but he wasn't hurt. One of the arrows glances on his helmet. Then, suddenly, everything went black.

He woke up roughly ten second later. His horse was dead - there was a lance stuck in his head. He looked around - everywhere he could see, there were mounted warriors fighting. A foot soldier was as dead as a dodo in that situation. "A horse! A horse! A kingdom for a horse!" he yelled, hoping someone would hear him.

"WHY HORSE! TAKE CAMEL! CAMEL BETTER!" a loud, powerful voice yelled. "CRAZY HASSAN'S SPECIAL SLIGHTLY USED CAMELS! CHEAP AT TWICE THE PRICE!". Richard was surprised, but quickly regained composure. "WHY WOULD I NEED A FUCKING CAMEL? IT'S FUCKING ENGLAND, NOT SOME FUCKING DUNES IN A FUCKING DESERT? EVEN MORE FUCKING IMPORTANT, HOW THE FUCK WOULD YOU GET A FUCKING CAMEL HERE?". It was only then he took a look at the man - it was a small arab with a turban and a long beard. He looked like the Turk spy they executed a few days ago, but then again, all arabs looked the same to him.

"CAMEL BETTER! LAST LONGER, MORE MEAT, GO FASTER, COST CHEAPER! YOU SAY HORSE A KINGDOM! CAMEL FEW COINS! BARGAIN!" yelled the man. Richard noticed a shape behind him - as he focused, it was a camel in a clad-steel armor. More importantly, everyone seemed to be ignoring the odd couple. "MAKE YOU DEAL - BUY CAMEL NOW, I GIVE SOME DATES FREE! ALSO, THIS GOOD SABRE! BELONGED TO A SULTAN WHO-" "I already have a sword!" protested Richard. "NO WORRY, I GIVE YOU LATER! ALSO, SOME BEADS FROM MY BROTHER IN LAW..." the strange man suddenly shut up. Richard felt pain in his stomach - he looked down and saw a sword sticking out. He looked up and saw Richmond.

Then, he saw nothing.

Hassan shrugged. "BUY CAMEL - SAVE LIFE" he said. Then he turned towards another unhorsed knight. "YOU WANT MOUNT? CAMEL SAFE, CAMEL GOOD, CAMEL FAST! CAMEL IS PERFECT MOUNT FOR A WARRIOR LIKE YOU! CRAZY HASSAN'S SLIGHTLY USED CAMEL EMPORIUM - CRRRRRRRAZY PRICES!"

Napoleon's Field Diary Excerpts

Napoleon's Field Diary (Interestingly, this would make the 2nd find of such a field diary, whose own entries make interesting contract to the one kept under lock and key beneath the Louvre)

1st Entry - The sun bakes the sand beneath my feet, and I can't help but feel that the shade of Alexander and his generals watch my every move, judging me from beyond death.

2nd Entry - The March has been long and arduous, my Cavalry are close to exhaustion and the horses of Europe are not used to the desert heat. I have sent several messengers to local settlements, in hopes that they will send us the animals we need.

3rd Entry - I have been repeatedly told that my need for military animals may be met by one single man. Amazing, that the armies of France are to ride on due to the services of one man! I must find him, and hope he does not sell his wares to the Mamelukes before he sells them to me...

4th Entry - I have met with him. Under the shade of palm trees, he met my skepticism with unrelenting enthusiasm. He is like a force of nature, a dealer in promises and camels. I cannot remember the specifics of our agreement but I find myself 100 camels richer tonight.

5th Entry - Another 1000 camels arrived this morning. Truely this man is a god send!

6th Entry - The quarter master complains. Another 5000 camels arrived today and our stock houses are stretched to limit.

7th Entry - I find myself with a conundrum. With all these camels, I am easily the richest man in all of Africa and Egypt. I could sell them now and give myself and all the men under my command lives of luxury. With my camels easily reaching into the tens of thousands now, I could also mount the men on desert ships, and sail towards ancient byzantine on their graceful backs.

8th Entry - Lord Above, he has sent us more camels. Perhaps I mispoke when I said we could use all the camels we could get.

9th Entry - I officially have more camels than the men under my command.

10th Entry - I officially have more camels than the men under my command have testicles.

11th Entry - I... may have more camels than the entire human population of the Ottoman Empire. Moving them is an impossible task by itself and my momentum is virtually non-existent. Even my enemies are not free to move, so thick is my herd of camels. I feel I have been outfoxed here somewhere...

(The rest is a sordid tale that describes the fall of the area to camel worship and sadism. Even Napoleon falls prey to the 'charm of camels'. Of the merchant, I have found only scattered details. I will continue to look into it and send any relevant reports back to you. I hear there is a merchant not far from here who fits the description and I find myself in need of a great many camels...)

Crazy Hassan and the Dread Pirates

On each side, the pirates surrounded us. We were doomed if it weren't for the intervention of the Turk.

The Dread Pirates called out for our captain to surrender for execution, or they would sink the ship. The noble captain would never allow such heathens to sink Her Majesty's Crown vessel. Boldly he stood at the Helm and placed his hat on the wheel. His sacrifice he had hoped would save us.

A Plank was placed between the lead vessel as a bridge for the captain to cross. He had thanked us all for our dedication to Her Majesty and stepped on the rail. On the horizon he saw an armada.

"The Mad Turk!" called out a voice from the crow's nest.

The Captain drew his looking glass and peered. The spear point of the formation was led by a ship with a camel at the wheel. Atop the figurehead was a smiling madman, his silver teeth shinning brightly. We were saved.

Crazy Hassan and the Acolytes

A long rattle of autogun fire sounded as the Acolytes sprinted away. At the front was Marakh, the lithe assassin doing as he always did and running the fastest when trouble arrived. Close behind were Ganth and Stig, the scum and guardsman respectively. Coran, their tech-priest, lay dead in the street far behind them.

Shouts of rage came from all sides as the frenzied gang members and cultists drew ever nearer. Occasionally, as they rounded corners, they caught a glimpse of the front runners.

Their sprint seemed to be coming to a close as they came through a market. High buildings pinned them in on all sides but for where they entered, and a single alley gave them an exit. From the far end, near this alley, they heard a loud shout.

"Welcome, new and valued customers!"

In the midst of the chase, the shout was a surreal enough occurrence to stop their sprint. There was a rotund man wearing a round cap and a turban about it, his long beard touching his belt despite the smile that attempted to lift it up.

"Yes, welcome new customers! Crazy Hassan has just what you need! Camocks, only slightly used! Taken to Emperor's chapel only! Better quality than new, Crazy Hassan swears it!"

Ganth laughed quietly and approached as other men rounded the corners. "How about...four thrones for three camocks?" As he pulled out the coins, he eyed the long legged beasts indigenous to the world. A single hump on their back was fitted with a comfortable looking saddle, reigns already fitted to their mouths. Behind him, Stig and Marakh readied their weapons, the front runners coming into view in the market.

"Four...FOUR THRONES?" The smile on Hassan's face grew even wider and he ducked into his small stand, returning with a dozen water skins, all full. "You have graced Hassan with your business, friends! Take these with his blessing!"

They quickly mounted and rode off. As they exited the city, Ganth saw Hassan stand in the middle of the causeway before the slavering horde and heard him shout.

"Welcome, new and valued customers! I am Crazy Hassan, and I have a better than new camock for each and every one of you!"

Crazy Hassan and the Mercenaries

We were a full day’s drive outside of Basrah, and Brinks was patting a camel. Why he was doing it, I have no idea. Normally, the man was hostile to any and all lifeforms with a pulse. Yet there he was, M4 in one hand, camel hump in the other, saying something about sand... to the camel. Last time I checked there was nothing in that desert save for this old oil well, our platoon, and this damn camel.

“Brinks?” “Hm.” “Where the fuck did you get a camel?” “Crazy Hassan.” “...what?” “Ain’t shittin’ you, sarge.” “What the fu-” “Over there, sarge.”

He pointed out into the dunes and I was about to tell him there was nothing out there, when I looked. He coulda beat me with a dried turd and I would not have noticed. There was this massive tent, just pitched outside of our camp. Maybe about two dozen camels, milling about the general area... but this tent. Lined with tassels and embroidery and... I just don’t have the words. I heard Brinks tell the camel “Stay!” but pretty much ignored him. This was a hell of a tent. Then, from within it, I heard a voice. Loud, excited, heavily accented.

“WEEEEEELLLLCOOOOME!”

(“...the hell?”)

“Welcome newandvaluedcustomers! I am Craaaaaaaazy Hassan and I have craaaaaazy deals for you on uuuuuuuused camels! Big camels, leetle camels, camel bags, camel saddles, manuals on how to milk your camel-” “Oooh!” “Damnit, Brinks!” “Sorry sarge.” “-toothpaste for your camel, camels for your camel, whatcanHassangetforyou newandvaluedcustomer?” I really had no idea what to say. Obviously, he did. “Comecome, comecome, let Hassan show you finecamelsatlowprices!”

Something just compelled me to follow him, and I did. Brinks was poking around a shelf of camel-care manuals; I let him. Hassan- pardon me, /Crazy/ Hassan- was a master salesman. I am unsure as to how long he talked to me (at me?) about the virtues of the animals and the deals he had on them. I had to ask him about Brinks.

“Him? Oh, he was grumpy. He come in, insult me, make manyrudegesturesandcomments, point gun at me... is okay. He simply has never met the great and gentle camel.” “The whatwhat whatnow?” “He meet with camel, camel like him, they are meant for each other. I let him have at half price. He apologize, brush camel, smile... I tell him come back, Hassan will always have a camel for him. Nice guy. Greatandvaluedcustomer. MayIinterestyouinacamel?”

Thank goodness I was broke, or I would have walked out of there with one of the damn animals.

Speakin’ of which, we were shipped back to Baghdad a day later, and the tent was gone. Just fucking gone.

Shit, when someone shot Brinks’ camel, he beat the man to death with his helmet.

Somehow, the next day, two camels arrived on base, with embroidered saddles...

Crazy Hassan and the Deadlands

So we were wanderin' through what was left of...I guess it used to be either California or Nevada. Enough Doomsayers around that it could have been either. Anyway, it doesn't matter. What matters is that we were out on the dry flats. Not quite desert, but...dry. And fucking awful in all regards.

Our truck broke down for what must have been the third time, and this time the gas tank dropped off. We didn't have enough spook juice left to get...well, anywhere, but we thought there might be a group to come along. We had enough food and water that we figured we could wait it out.

God damn, we were wrong.

Even down to tight rations, we were going through the water too fast. Anyway...the witch with us was just a -little- too hopped up on whateverthefuck it was she kept in that skull, and she started yelling about seeing someone out in the sands.

We looked, but there was nobody. She just kept saying, "The camels! There are fucking camels out there!"

We ignored it, but she just kept yelling about seeing it!

Eventually, I stuck my head out and looked around. Sure enough, where she was pointing, there was a huge white tent and a few dozen camels.

Now, at this point, we were all more than just a little bit unnerved. Firstly, this tent just came out of nowhere. Secondly, there were camels around it. CAMELS. We hadn't seen so much as a horned toad in a month, and here were a bunch of fucking CAMELS. I won't even go into the fact that they couldn't have been native to the area.

Collectively, we decided to go check it out. The witch is still babbling about the camels (the sun must have gotten to her) and now the Doomsayer riding with us is going a little nuts. I asked why, and he said that these things were completely free of radiation. COMPLETELY. That threw another dozen red flags up in front of me, but I didn't care. I wanted to know what the hell was going on.

We get within a dozen strides of the tent and this tiny little guy comes blasting out, dressed like fuckin' Lawrence of Arabia. Before we can so much as twitch, he's smiling and shouting at us.

"Welcome, new and valued customers! I am the one and only Craaaaaaaazy Hassan! My madness is your savings, as you will see on many of these fine slightlyusedbutinconditionsbetterthannew camels!"

He stood there smiling at us, but we must have looked like someone just hung naked pictures of our mothers in front of us. My only guess on that is that he came closer, still smiling. "Friends, friends, there is no need to look dismayed! Even if you have little to barter with, Crazy Hassan will have a deal for you!"

In something like a daze, we followed him around all of his camels as he rattled off information. "This is Al-Aziz! Yes, a good strong camel, only owned by a very tiny sikh. Never had much burden, but a strong will!" I couldn't tell. It was a goddamn camel.

"This one is Alibabba! I call him this because he is smart, but also crafty! Leave him tied loosely, and he will surely end up in your tent to share your space. Such a kidder he is!" He patted the camel's nose as he walked past. The thing just kept on chewing its cud.

Before Crazy Hassan could regale us about another camel (apparently born from a royal camel, or something), I cut him off.

"Listen, buddy, we just need four camels and some water. Can you set us up with that?"

The look on his face was one that still wakes me out of deep sleep to this day.

He was smiling so wide that I thought his face was gonna tear in half. Hell, the witch was cringing and I'm pretty sure she's spent time talking to demons.

Anyway...He gets all bouncy and laughs before pointing a finger at me. I flinched like he had drawn cold iron. "Friend...That is Hassan's deal of the week! You are lucky, friend, oh yesyesyes." He pulls the reigns from a few of the camels, including Alibabba and Al-Aziz, and shoves them into my hands. A minute later, he walks around with three -more- camels, all loaded down with kegs of water and some other stowage.

"See? Crazy Hassan always treats his valued customers with respect and gives them the best deals that he can, because YOU are Hassan's valued customers! Be sure to come back to Hassan for your future needs!"

The doomsayer opened his mouth to say something about trade, but Hassan waved a hand at him. "Bah, faddle, nonesense. You are friends to Hassan! These are gifts to friends, yes! You tell others of Hassan, and Hassan will call it even! Now travel well, esteemed and valued friendcustomers!" With that, the guy darted back into the tent. In the bags, there must have been five hundred rounds of mixed ammo and enough armor to replace what had gotten damaged on us. On top of that, we had enough water to reach the next city with plenty to spare.

I won't say much, but I know I've told everyone looking for a mount to look for a guy named Hassan. As crazy as he was...I'd hate to get on his wrong side by sending folks elsewhere.

Crazy Hassan and the Ultramarines

"Brother scout, what is the meaning of this?"

Seargent Tellion looked over at his scout squad, bemused. They were in a skirmish with the dread forces of Chaos, but...His entire squad were mounted on strange humped animals. He had never seen the like. The scout looked back, altogether too happily. "Over there, in the forest, there was this tent-" Tellion made shushing noises at the scout. No telling who was listening. "Sorry, brother-seargant. But there was this man, in this tent, he was selling camels-" "These xenos are called camels?" A camel stared at Tellion. Tellion stared back. "Yes, brother-seargant, and he gave us a special deal-what was it?" The rest of the squad started talking all at once, and lead scout picked the phrase out of the mumbling. "Special price for newandvaluedcustomers, half-price used camels if you buy for your whole squad! I give you five-no, ten melta bombs!" The squad snickered. The seargant was not amused. "Show me this man."

The squad made its way back the the tent. It was lavishly embroidered, and looked completely out of place in between the towering trees. Hestus pushed his way through the tent flap. On the shelves inside, there were all manner of merchandise. What looked like crude harnesses, dataslates on 'HOW TO CARE FOR YOUR USED CAMEL', brushes, even tubes of-

"I AM CRAAAAAAAAZY HASSAAAAAAAAAAAN, I SELL YOU SPECIAL CAMEL, HARDENED FOR BATTLE. ONLY USED FOR ONE WEEK, BETTER QUALITY THAN NEW! HASSAN SWEARS IT. " Tellion jumped two feet. There was a man behind a counter at the far end of the tent. His voice boomed and echoed through the forest. "I have no need of your CAMELS, madma-" "EVERYONE NEEDS CAAAAAAMEEEEEEEEEEEEEELS!" Crazy Hassan bellowed into Tellion's face. "HALF PRICE FOR YOU! ONLY TWO THRONES FOR MIGHTY CAMEL!"

Ultramarine chapter legends tell of a story in which Scout Seargant Tellion led a victorious counter-charge on the Word Bearers legion of traitor Astartes mounted on strange, one-humped beasts. Tellion denies these allegations.

In the mystical lands of Killik-kilik, the wives of sultans tell a story of karma, and love, and of high quality, affordable camels.

Duke Malimont watched as his query, the young princess, rode off on the back of the strangest looking creature he had ever seen. If he had to guess he would have figured it to be some sort of mutant horse or some sort of misshapen donkey. Whatever it was, it was carrying the target of his obsession away from him at a fast pace.

As he surveyed the area, wondering where the princess had gotten the oddity, he noticed a brightly coloured tent set next to the road. Sitting on a stool in front of the tent was a strange man, accompanied by more of those strange beasts. The man with a turban and fez placed snugly atop his head, was gazing warmly at Duke Malimont, a welcoming grin decorating his face.

“Welcome, new and valued customer,” the strange man hollered, “I’m Crazy Hassan, and I would like to sell you a camel today. My camels are better than new. Only slightly used. Come my friend, come and buy my excellent camels. Cheap! Clean! Best camels in all the lands.”

The duke sneered as he marched from the hill where he had been standing, down to where this ‘Crazy Hassan’ was waiting. “Did you give that girl the beast she was riding away on,” Duke Malimont asked, his hand resting menacingly on the hilt of his sword.

“No, no, no. I sold it to her. She got a very good price. You will also get a very go-”

“How can sell something to someone how doesn’t have any money,” interrupted Duke Malimont as his sword slowly slide out of his scabbard.

“Not for money. I sold her that fine used camel for the kiss from a chaste virgin,”Crazy Hassan said warmly. His hand lightly touched the side of his cheek in memory. “Come, this talk doesn’t get you on the back of one of my camels,” Crazy Hassan quickly said as he snapped back to reality.

“She won’t be so chaste when I am through with,” mumbled the duke darkly. For a moment the duke contemplated all the ways he would break the young princess.

“What Allah wills, Allah wills,” Crazy Hassan said, his keen ears hearing more than Duke Malimont would have liked. For a second, the duke worried that the merchant would act to defend the girl, but all Crazy Hassan did was smile warmly back at him and usher the duke to where his camels waited.

Some of them were ugly looking things, but one caught the duke’s eye. Without even a thought, Duke Malimont grabbed the camels roughly by the reigns and began to drag it away from the rest.

“My most valued costumer, you have not paid for that very cheap camel. Please come back! That camel might not be right for you,” Crazy Hassan called to the thief as he marched of with one of his camels.

“Why should I pay a beggar like you for the honour of me using one of his inbred, flea ridden, monstrosities?” The duke sneered at Crazy Hassan, his hand waving him away in a dismissive manner.

“A thousand pardons, but this isn’t about pay. A rider needs the right camel, otherwise it could lead to disaster. The camel must respect you!”

“Respect me,” laughed the duke, “I’ll break this beast and I’ll break that princess. Then I will be king. Now I ride!” Duke Malimont, with a mighty kick, attempted to spur the camel forward in pursuit of the princess. Yet, nothing happened. “Stupid beast,” growled the duke. With both his heels, he attempted to get any response from the animal.

“Camels, as well as women, need to trust you, respect you.” Despite his words, the duke continued beating the camel. For the first time in years, Crazy Hassan sighed, and grieved what he knew was to come. “Ride my friend, carry our most valued customer to his fate.”

Like a bolt, the camel, that had once been still as stone, broke off at a thunderous pace. Yet, Crazy Hassan’s words proved true. The camel was unresponsive to Duke Malimont’s directions. Worse, the duke kept slipping in the saddle as he was unaccustomed to riding a camel. It was only a matter of time before he fell from the saddle and crashed to the hard ground below. And thus Duke Malimont met his end.

Later that night another camel could be seen up the road, riding to where Crazy Hassan had set up shop. On top of it was the one of the fairest ladies in all the land. The princess and her camel glided easily across the moonlight moors. The silver light shone like a halo upon her rich, brown hair. Yet, for all her beauty, she looked distressed and conflicted, a slight maidenly blush colouring her fine features.

“Salaam, my most valued customer! Have you come to purchase another camel from me?” Crazy Hassan walked to the camel and helped the fair maiden from her saddle, his good cheer having been restored as soon as he had buried the body of the duke.

“No, I’ve come to return this majestic beast to you. I can’t in good conscience take it,” the princess said. “Even if it means I fall into that beast’s hands, I can’t cheat a good man.”

“I refuse,” Crazy Hassan said, “for how could I ever honour you with a refund. The camel is yours, now and forever.”

“Bu-” the princess began to speak but was promptly cut off by a gentle kiss from Hassan. The princess blushed deeply at the unexpected act of tenderness.

“See. A pale imitation of what you paid, the kiss of a used camel merchant. There is no fair refund I could offer you,” Crazy Hassan said calmly. “And don’t fear returning home. It is safe now. The man chasing you has gone to a place only the finest of my camels can go.” Despite the good news, the princess seemed unsure. “You do not seem glad. Perhaps you need another camel to accompany you home.”

“He wasn’t the only one who wanted me for my crown, or my looks,” the princess forlornly said. She walked toward Hassan’s vacant stool and took a seat. “Is there anything else in the world that matters to men?”

“Camels,” Crazy Hassan said simply. While it wasn’t a joke to him, the princess laughed heartily at the statement.

“I wish I could go with you. See the world, leave behind my name and title. Just be free.” There was a pause as the two exchanged a look that said many things.

“A camel is freedom,” Crazy Hassan said. “Two provides even more freedom.”

“But it is a dangerous world out there.”

“My camels are the finest camels in the land. Also provide good protection. Three camels are better than castle walls,” Crazy Hassan said, focusing on the sale instead of the mounting emotions in his heart. He knew moonlight had this effect on camels, but this was the first time he’d ever felt it himself.

“So the safest place in the world would be traveling with you,” the princess said, all traces of naivete thrown out the window as she cast Crazy Hassan a look her mother, grandmother, and great grandmother had used to great success before when landing themselves a husband.

“Yes, but in my culture, for a woman to be accompanied by someone other than her father or husb-” Crazy Hassan paused as the princesses look intensified. He knew then that there was no escape.

“Well, if marriage to you is the price of my freedom, than I’ll gladly rectify that problem.”

With a sigh Crazy Hassan gazed into the starry heavens. “What a woman wills, a woman wills. And Allah be damned.”

The women of Killik-kilik speak of the night and the other nights that forged the pairs undying love. They talk about their many adventures, and their peerless guile and cunning. They talk of the used camel merchant and his queen.

Crazy Hassan and the Monk of Ibul Hasheem

I am a monk of the ascetic order of Ibul Hasheem.

During my tenth winter as a brother of spirit sand, I was sent into the desert to under go my soul shaping. For many days I endured the hardships of the shifting sands, the burning heat that baked the water and salt from my body, the freezing nights that bit through my hessian robe.

I sought to unite my heat with that of the desert itself, to embrace and in turn be embraced by the golden sands. However something held me back, a dark shadow that lurked on the surface of my soul, an abyss into the self that in my weakness I could not enter into.

I fully understood, the desert abhors weakness. So long as I could not confront this inner journey my fate in the desert was sealed.

Upon my third new moon, having supped on a meager meal of hardy sand scrubs, a vision came to me. Perhaps in my water deprived delirium my consciousness bordered the spirit world, perhaps the spirit world sought me out to begin with. To this day I cannot say.

The apparition took the form of a man, a great and terrible man more fearsome than any demon depicted in the talmut. He towered over me though his stature was crooked, where the winds whipped at my humble robe a calm seem to center around this giant. A single brow knitted from coarse black wires framed a sun stained face, wrapped in sand logged fabrics of mismatched material and design much of his person was hidden from me.

Save, that is, for his cardamon yellow grin and great black rimmed eyes, alive with fire and madness. My mind was called back in an instant to the studies of my youth, of the text that named Bagda-yashir. The patron saint of the mad and the lost who reputedly acted as guardian of the desert's waters and final judge of it's many trials, for who but the mad and the lost would subject themselves to naked sands?

From deep within the monumental pile of rags a voice boomed forth like the thunder of the glass storms that herald the greatest of sandstorms.

"WELCOME TO CRAZY HASSAN'S BETTER-THAN NEW USED CAMELS. I AM CRAZY HASSAN AND THESE..."

The giant gestured behind him.

"ARE HIS CAMELS."

His words shook me to the very core.

I croaked through sand choked lips but no voice would come when bidden, through wheezing breath my tongue slapped slackly but could not form the words of my dying prayer. For I knew in this moment, I would not return from this place.

"CRAZY HASSAN HAS THE CAMEL FOR YOU TODAY, INDEED HE HAS CAMEL FOR EVERYONE EVERYDAY!" He added as an after thought, with his ever present booming enthusiasm. "COME, LET ME WALK YOU AND TALK YOU. MAYBE LAST TIME YOU LEGS SEE THE SAND WHEN WE FINISH, EH?"

A hand like a slab of granite crashed into my back knocking my scant breath from me as this titan laughed a horrendous cackle. Enveloping me in one mighty arm I was dragged, feet limply marking the sand behind me, along with him past a herd of hardy camels.

I cannot recount my experiences from here on in accurate detail, a number of times I must've passed out though I could not recall ever closing my eyes. What I do remember, what is burned upon my soul to this day, is how Hassan.... Crazy Hassan... would bring me from camel to identical camel for inspection.

"POLAR CAMEL, BRISK TRADE IN THIS MODEL. RUGGED FEATURES PERFECT FOR ARCTIC CONDITIONS. BUT THIS IS NO CAMEL FOR YOU."

A new camel would rise in my vision, same as the last.

"AQUATIC CAMEL, POPULAR IN THE TURNWISE SEA FOR IT'S SUBMARINE GRACE. FEATURES BUILT IN FLOTATION DEVICE. BUT THIS IS NO CAMEL OF YOURS."

Camels again and again, the jungle camel and the temperate forest camel, the all terrain camel and the urban camel (very environmentally friendly!). I could have sworn the man merely led me in a circle only to return me to the same camel over and over claiming a new set of remarkable abilities each time. By straining my throat, clogged with spittle and sand, I told him as much.

No matter how sure I was of my doom before that point, as soon as I uttered those words I was certain of my death as I was that the sun would rise. A deadly calm over took the desert, the wind shrank in fear of the great man snaring me in his arm of rags, the grains of sand under my feet felt as if they had been frozen to stone in awe of this great soul.

My life, my eternity was lost in that moment. Locked in the great black rimmed eyes that seem to bore into my very soul, I desperately wanted to writhe and shrink before him so as to hide my wretchedness but I was held in place much as the entire world appeared to be.

"BWAHAHAHAHA! HASSAN SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN TO TRY AND PULL THE CAMEL HIDE OVER A MONK'S EYES."

That hideous, glorious laughter shattered the moment of eternity into a million shards that formed the past, present and future once more.

"INDEED ALL CAMEL I SHOW ARE MERE CAMELS BY ANY OTHER NAME, NAMES FOR MEN TO KNOW THEM BY. YOU SEE MY WISE FRIEND, CAMEL IS AS CAMEL DOES."

"And what does camel do?"

I murmured out my reply.

"What is needed."

His hushed hiss echoed with reverence, as if he spoke of some higher power. Though the day was long by then and the sand was hot, to hear this colossus, this behemoth, this goliath, this GOD to speak in awe chilled all that I was.

Gently I was coaxed into movement again, where before he spoke with crashing might and moved with a forceful hand now he urged me forward with the gentleness of a shepherd to his flock. He seemed all the more powerful to me for it.

"I see you are a discerning man when it come to camel, I like that. I like you." He continued in soft tones, resonant with a fraternal feeling. "I see you travel a path down which no man may follow, a road you fear to tread yourself. To tread oneself, not to be taken lightly." Mystic words hypnotized me, before I could object or even notice he had seated me in another one of his identical camels.

"Upon this camel you shall take one trip and no more, he will return from your trip without you. But he shall not be alone."

"Where will he take me?"

I asked, even as Hassan shrank from view as he stood atop a dune. Upon the shifting of the sand, in the call of the wind, with the cry of the bird and the drumming of the insect I heard his reply.

"Where needed."

- Sermons of Grand Monk, Lucid Abban, volume six.

Crazy Hassan and the Tallarn Raiders

From the moment his outriders voxed “xenos on the western ridge!” Captain Assam of the 405th Tallarn knew he was doomed. His desert raiders were desperately trying to return to the main force to warn about a Tau incursion coming from the west, but it seemed his message would die with him. The kroot packs, he could see them now, seemed endless while his own meager forces had taken substantial loses and most were afoot, having lost both their Chimeras and their hardly desert horses.

As he gazed at what he thought would be the final enemy he would fight for the Emporer, a thought struck him. Didn’t kroot usually have more pronounced beaks? They weren’t usually that shade of brown… where were their weapons? Come to think of it, why were they on all fours instead of in the vague upright position of their subhumanity? And… was that a human at their head?

A human it was, and Assam gave the order to hold fire, not wanting to kill what might be a desert nomad like himself with what was clearly not kroot. Or maybe they were kroot. In the fine details of the things they certainly had the appearances of many kroot Assam had seen, but in the major detail they were…

“Camels?”

“YES CAMELS! YOU WANT TRAVEL FAST, CRAAAAAAAAAAAZY HASSAN HAS CAMELS APLENTY! BIG CAMEL, SMALL CAMEL, SHORT CAMEL, TALL CAMEL CAMEL SPECIAL BRED FOR MOUNTAIN AND DESERT AND FOREST AND OCEAN! YOU WANT CAMEL TO TO SWIM? I CAN GIVE YOU CAMEL THAT FLY!”

“Now see here, what is the meaning of this, you are delaying a servant of the Emporer in his sacred-“

“YOU NEED GO FAST? I SELL YOU CAMELS! LOW LOW PRICES GUARANTEED, IF NOT SATISFIED, CASH BACK I GIVE!”

“You… want to sell us your-“

“DEAL! YOU HAVE CAMELS I HAVE SALE. AND REMEMBER, CRAAAAAAAAAAZY HASSAN HAS THE BEST CAMELS IN THE GALAXY. YOU NO LIKE, CASH BACK GUARANTEED”

And with that the crazed loon ran off into the desert, never to be seen by Assam again. The Tallarns, unsure of what to make of this, mounted up and delivered their message.

Crazy Hassan and the Explorers

I ventured into the trackless wastes, going to the ruined cities mentioned in the earliest writings which mentioned Crazy Hassan. Unfortunately, upon the first night after our arrival at the site of Al-Gibreel, we were set upon by a sandstorm unlike anything we had ever seen. My group and I survived by taking shelter in one of the surviving structures, but upon emerging the following morning, we found that our camp had been destroyed, with almost everything in it. The horses that had trekked for hundreds of miles with us to this gods-forsaken ruin were nowhere to be seen. It looked like we were stranded, and most likely doomed. It was then that one of the local guides I had hired spotted something... a banner, hung over the doorway of what remained of a great temple... it read: "CRAZY HASSAN'S USED CAMEL EMPORIUM!"

There it was, plain as day... Everyone saw it, and we were pretty sure it wasn't a mirage, since mirages aren't usually banners advertising "BETTER-THAN-NEW CAMELS AT LOWER-THAN-BARGAIN PRICES!". This was... strange. The banner wasn't there when we arrived, we'd been at the temple yesterday, and last night's storm would have made it physically impossible to travel under cover of night. The confusion was broken by a voice that belonged to nobody in the group, coming from the direction of the temple.

"WELCOME, GOOD FRIEND CUSTOMER, TO CRAZY HASSAN'S USED CAMEL EMPORIUM!"

Startled, I looked to see where the voice was coming from. It was a dishevelled little man, turban wrapped around a fez, wide-opened eyes twinkling with some sort of strange madness, a wide grin filled with teeth that had probably never seen a dentist, wrapped head-to-toe in dirty brown garb that I could smell from 30 feet away... He matched the description of Crazy Hassan from the legends!

He walked out to greet us, bowing or shaking hands as appropriate, constantly talking.

"I SEE YOU GENTLEMEN ARE IN NEED OF CAMELS. EVERYONE NEEDS CAMELS, AND CRAZY HASSAN'S CAMELS CAN FILL EVERYONE'S NEEDS! COME, COME INSIDE AND I SHALL FIND THE RIGHT CAMELS FOR YOU!"

He ushered us into the temple, and I was even MORE stunned. He'd turned it into some sort of showroom, filled with camels! He brought me in front of camels, and I followed out of what I can only assume was some sort of dumbfounded "what-in-gods'-name-is-going-on-here"-ness. Crazy Hassan just kept talking, giving sales pitches for each of the camels. He brought me to a camel dressed up in a winter coat.

"POLAR CAMEL! GREAT FOR LONG TREK OVER ICY SNOWS! AH, BUT THIS IS NOT THE CAMEL FOR YOU."

Then, a camel wearing a swim-cap, goggles, swimfins and what looked like a gargantuan inflated inner tube wrapped around its body.

"AQUA CAMEL! NO NEED TO BRING WATER, CAMEL GOES THROUGH IT! BUT STILL, I SEE THIS IS NOT THE CAMEL FOR YOU."

Then a camel with, of all things, giant wooden wings strapped to its body!

"SKY CAMEL! YOU BUY TODAY, I THROW IN MAP OF CLOUDS FOR FREE!" It was at this point I recovered enough of my senses to try and get some sort of explanation.

"Now hold on just a minute here!" I shouted. "Just whom are you and how did you get here? We examined this place just yesterday, would have noticed a camel herd like yours if it were anywhere else, and the sandstorm last night means you couldn't have arrived then." He just smiled a crooked, knowing smile at me.

"Ah. Hassan has been here for longer than you know, has traveled farther than you have gone. Once sold many camel to Sultan of Al-Gibreel. Al-Shaitan spy poison his horses... Bah, camels better anyway." He reached into one of the pockets of his robe and pulled out something... "Sultan paid with this." He held it out... a necklace with a ruby the size of a human thumb, on an ornate gold chain. No mistake, this was one of the lost treasures of Al-Gibreel! He kept talking, anecdotes about former customers of his... Taken from the very legends I had studied, some of them from manuscripts that only had a single remaining copy! It was around the time that he asked if I wanted to meet his wife, after going through the legend of Malimot of Killik-kilik, that my skepticism finally broke.

"You... you ARE Crazy Hassan..." Questions flew from my mind, backing up in my throat in their mad rush to be asked first. I just stared, and Hassan gave that knowing smile again.

"Answers come free with Camel."

Crazy Hassan and the Changelings

They poured out of the door, fleeing from the enraged den of loyalist scum and into a filthy alley filled with the grime and dirt of the city. The rest of the Changelings jumped out of the way as the ogre roared fiercely, grabbed a rusting trash container and smashed it in front of the door. At least that’d stop them getting to them through that route. The motley immediately turned and ran down the alley, fleeing as fast as they possibly could from the seedy club and the Gentry-serving bastards it contained. All they needed to do was get in the car and get the fu—

“Oh come on! What the hell is this crap?!” The summery Hunterheart was the first out of the narrow alley and on to the main street, watching their getaway vehicle get away, speeding down the street away from them with a smashed window and a whooping joy rider contained within. “Now, hang on, there has to be another way out of this mess!” The hot-headed Beast spat on the floor and shot the goblin Brewer a stony glare. He wouldn’t be soothed until they got the hell out of Dodge. He stared around angrily and smacked his crowbar against his palm, finally walking towards a parked SUV.

“Wait a minute; we can’t just steal someone’s car! They need that!” “Yeah, well we need it more! We’re as good as fucking dead if we don’t get out of here right now!” The fiery dogman growled his disapproval at the Elemental, a fucking flower of autumn who was trying to sooth him. The Gargantuan merely stood there and watched passively while the goblin covered his face with his palm and sighed, stepping back. Finally, the Woodblood retreated, a frown appearing on her lips as she watched the canine Changeling raise the crowbar and bring it smashing— “CRRRAAAZY HASSAN HERE! YOU NEED TRANSPORT? CHEAP CAMEL! GIVE SOME DATES! BARGAIN!" The Hunterheart let out a bark of shock and suddenly stopped, turning to face a nearby garage door as it slammed open and a herd of big furry beasts the colour of sand galloped out, one of them carrying the strangest rider. He was a tall, dark man, probably of Middle Eastern origin, complete with a turban and even wearing a fucking fez on top of it. He flashed a friendly, charming and slightly deranged smile at the four Changelings, revealing a set of pearly white teeth that shone in the light of the street lamps.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Another snarl came from the aggressive dogman as he wrapped both fists around the crowbar, preparing to smash it into the stranger’s skull. However, he couldn’t help but jump yet again as the unhinged Asian bellowed at him cheerfully. “CRRRAAAZY HASSAN! YOU NEED GETAWAY CAR?! HAVE GETAWAY CAMEL! COMES WITH GETAWAY DATES! ONLY SLIGHTLY USED!” “But a car’s faster than a camel – hell, a fucking moped is faster than—“ “NOTHING IS FASTER THAN THE MAJESTIC BEAUTIFUL CAMEL! CAR NEED GAS! MOPED NEED GAS! CAMEL? JUST NEED DATES! TAKE CAMELS! TAKE DATES! ONLY SLIGHTLY USED!”

“What does he mean by used?” The flower woman frowned in concern and the Brewer simply grunted and shrugged. “It’s best if you don’t ask.” They all flinched as the door in the alley smashed against the trash container blocking it. The goblin cleared his throat and spoke up, although he shrank back almost immediately when the grinning head turned to face him. He couldn’t explain why, but that face-splitting smile was far more intimidating than any expression the Hunterheart could ever conjure. He rummaged in his pocket, producing a strange fruit that looked like a ruby red eggplant. “How much do you want for four camels? I’m afraid we don’t have much cash, only some special fruit we got from somewhere a while back and—“ The fruit was plucked out of his hand in a blur. “FRUIT GOOD ENOUGH! I TAKE FRUIT, YOU TAKE CAMELS! YOU TAKE DATES! GETAWAY CAMELS! GETAWAY DATES! ONLY SLIGHTLY USED! SAFE TRAVELS! MAY YOUR CAMELS BE FRESH AND PLENTIFUL!” One of the beasts was given a slap on the arse by the mad merchant before he rode his own beast of burden back into the garage. With an irate groan, the spanked camel charged the motley just as the trash container was forced out of the way and the door in the alley was shoved wide open. The entire herd followed and to stop themselves from being trampled, each of the Changelings had to hold on to a camel for dear life. Except for the ogre – he had to hold on to two. The loyalists could merely watch in disbelief as they watched the dust cloud of hooves and sandy fur retreat down the street.

“So, you managed to assassinate the loyalist leader?” The Hunterheart nodded grimly as he was interrogated by his employer hours after the incident, a delightful Muse of the Spring Court in a living room. “That we did.” “Good. You also stole their cache of Goblin Fruit?” “That we did.” “Excellent! You’ve done a wonderful job. I can’t see a single problem with the execution. Oh, except for one thing.” The dogman winced. “What would that be, ma’am?” With a scowl on her gorgeous face, the Fairest swept open a curtain covering a window, revealing the dozens of camels grazing in her garden. “WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ABOUT THIS?!”

Crazy Hassan and the Fremen

There rumors of Mahdi's arrival were already being spread - the Harkonnen troops were scrambling in the fortified towns as the tribes prepared for the offensive. The battles would not take place until a few weeks have passed, but the whole sietch was prepared for when the signal would be given.

And suddenly, it arrived. The bat with the dis-trans signal was there, and the whole sietch was ready to move. The naib planted a thumper that would summon the worm to take the Fremen into the battle.

Lump... lump... lump...

lump... lump... lump...

lump... lump... lump...

Naib Samas was confused. The thumpers usually summoned a worm in a matter of minutes. Their thumper was working for half an hour and nothing, not even the smalles wormsign appeared. The whole tribe was looking at it, wondering whether the Shai'Hulud left them.

Lump... lump... lump...

lump... lump... lump...

lump... lump... lump...

Suddenly, one warrior spotted a speck of dust on a nearby dune. "Something is there!" he yelled in Chakobsa. Everyone turned, but Samas quickly spotted the flaw - the sand was not moving in a wave. In fact, it was more of a disturbance on the dune. "What in the name of-" he muttered. Suddenly, a small dot emerged from the top of the sand hill and started running towards them. Behind it was a large number of similar dots. As the shapes moved closer, a yell was heard. "CRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRAZY HASSAN HERE! YOU NEED TRANSPORT? CHEAP CAMEL! GIVE SOME DATES! BARGAIN!"

The Naib was frustrated. Not only was the figure (which was now pretty close) not wearing a stillsuit, it didn't even have the blue-in-blue spice eyes OR show any kind of exhaustion. They were deep in the desert with no water source - the nearest town was thousands of miles away. The man would have to brave sandworms and other treacherous dangers of the desert, not to speak of the large herd of the strange animals behind him.

"Should I take his life's water?" spoke one of the warriors. "No. I shall hear him out," said the naib, "for he has braved the desert. He is either a god or a madman". "HASSAN NO GOD!" yelled the figure. "HASSAN CRRRRRRRAZY! YOU NEED MOVE FAST, YES? NO LOOK FURTHER! HASSAN'S SLIGHTLY USED CAMEL EMPORIUM RIGHT HERE!". He was at the Fremen party at that time. He grinned a wide and friendly smile, showing off his snow-white teeth. He was a tall, dark man with a towel wrapped around his head and a small, red hat with a string on the end on top of it. He had a large, dark beard and was dressed in a most peculiar clothing.

"Yes... we need to move," said the Samas, "but I don't believe you can-" "HAVE CAMELS! FOR ALL! CHEAP! GIVE DATES AND SOME JACKETS!". Samas gave a silent prayer to Shai-Hulud. The message was urgent, the Harkonnen host in the fortress was strong. They needed to move fast. "Are these animals fast?" "FAST?" Hassan laughed. "THESE OUTRUN ANYONE! SPECIAL TRAINING! FASTER THAN EAGLE IN FLIGHT! MONEY BACK IF NOT TRUE! THIS DESERT! CAMEL LOVE DESERT! CAMEL BEST ANIMAL IN DESERT!". One of the warriors intruded: "The Shai'Hulud is mightier than any-" "WHAT SHAI'HULUD? IF NOT CAMEL, IT NOT GOOD!" yelled Hassan. "WORM TOO BIG, CAMEL SMALLER, CAMEL FASTER!" Naib could feel the rest of his warriors stabbing him with their eyes, but he had no choice. Someone would call him out sooner or later, and the battle had to be done. "Allright, what do you want for the-" "DEAL!" yelled the maniac and slapped his hand into the surprised Naib's. "YOU TAKE CAMELS! IS OKAY! FREE OF CHARGE!" he yelled.

Hassan then mounted one of them and ran into a completely different direction, leaving the Fremen tribe with a large number of camels. They slowly mounted them and went into the direction of the battle.

It was a massacre, such that the Harkonnens never quite forgot their fear of camels.