The Last Sunset | Emmz, Lady Nayeli

[hayder]

The sun was still high in the sky, even though it was well past midday. The air was dry and warm, and Hayder was glad that, for a change, he wasn't out of the camp today. He and several other tribe hunters returned from the Beor Mountains last night, bringing two wild boars and about a dozen of smaller animals. It wasn't the best hunt ever, but at least they were able to provide some food for the tribe. Besides, there were other groups still by the mountains, and Hayder was hoping they had better luck.

Notwithstanding that Hayder didn't leave the camp this morning for a patrol or other duties, it didn't mean that he had a leisure time and had nothing to do. There was always something useful to do, either for his family or for other members of the tribe. Things needed to be fixed, weapons had to be taken care of, arrows were to be made for those few who used bows for the hunting, and tents required frequent maintenance due to the strong winds that blew in the desert during the night. Hayder occupied himself with all those little things that had to be done ever since he woke up and had a breakfast. He has never been lazy, and found any work for the sake of his tribe equally enjoyable.

Now that it was past midday, Hayder was sitting outside the tent he and his children occupied, polishing his sword. The weapons were the key to warriors' survival and Tariq took any opportunity to care for his. The number of swords the tribe had was pretty stable, as it was an expensive item that not all of the men possessed, and the other tribes were highly unwilling to trade them at all. There were no blacksmiths in his tribe who could make a new sword either. So the only way of obtaining a new weapon - besides inheriting one - was to win it in a fight. All in all, the sword was almost as valuable as the horse, and the last thing Hayder wanted is for it to become rusty or less sharp. His life depended on it as much as it depended on water, whenever he left the tribe's encampment.

While polishing his sword, Hayder was watching his son Akmal practicing the spear fighting with another boy, a twelve years old. Akmal was strong for his age, but not as strong as needed to be in order to qualify for the tribe's hunter. Not that it was something to worry about - he still had a few years ahead of him before he was old enough to become the tribe's warrior. It today's practice, Akmal was clearly losing. "It's not fair. Kaphiri is older than I am. I cannot win," - the ten years old boy complained, waving for the older boy to stop attacking him, and turning to his father. Hayder rose his brow as he replied, - "You cannot expect to fight only weaker men." The physical strength was surely one thing that helped to win battles, but it wasn't the only thing that made a difference. "Go on," - Hayder nodded to Kaphiri, and the twelve years old charged again. One thing he'd never say was to go easy on Akmal. In a real fight, the opponent never goes easy on you, so Hayder didn't want his son to expect that. He knew that, as the boys grew older, their age difference would not mean as much as it did today - and if Akmal trained properly, one day he would win.

"He never wins," - Jameela noted quietly, watching her brother with concern. She was sitting beside Hayder, making a doll out of the sticks and the dry grass he brought her yesterday from the hunting by the mountains. She was only six, but the tribe's women already said she would be very beautiful when she grew up. She had her mother's raven black hair, but her eyes were the colour of the sky - the rarity among the nomads. "This is not about winning," - Hayder smiled at his daughter, who smiled back and went on working on a toy. Even though she was still a child, she was smart, and she always kept asking all sorts of questions about the world and everything she encountered. But, as long as it was barely the first time they discussed Akmal's training, Jameela already knew what it was all about. Learning to fight was one of the sides of these practices. Another thing was teaching Akmal to try even harder when things didn't work the way he wanted them to work. Never to give up. The desert wasn't a place for those with the weak spirit.

As Hayder took a clean piece of cloth to go over his sword so that he could see whether he needed any more polishing to be done, Jameela started to hum a tune, a lullaby her mother used to sing. It was a miracle that she actually remembered it, as she was only four when Tasnim died. Hayder guessed that his wife wasn't the only person who sang it, though, so the girl might have as well learned it from some other woman. That lullaby was probably sung for centuries by the mothers to their children.

The considerations of how stable things were in the nomadic tribes for decades made Hayder think about all the changes that were taking place in Hadarac for the past few years. The desert has never been especially welcoming, but the tribes knew how to live here. But with all the slavers and bandits that came along, today it was more dangerous than ever. Hayder have never liked outsiders in the first place, as they mostly brought trouble with them. Even a sixth year old nomad could survive better in the desert than they did, they never seemed to understand anything about Hadarac.

Hayder was aware that some outsiders came to the tribe's leader, Rasheed al-Sayyid, today, but there were enough warriors at al-Sayyid's tent, and Hayder didn't need to participate unless he was called to join the meeting. It was a rare occasion that he was able to spend several hours with his children, and he was enjoying the moment for now. Rasheed has been an old man in his late forties, and he has been the leader of the tribe for as long as Hayder remembered. He was like the father to the tribe. He resolved the conflicts, made sure everyone was alright. Hayder, just like all the nomads of the tribe, highly respected al-Sayyid, and was ready to fulfill any of his orders. The tribe leader, on the other hand, asked his advice from time to time, and trusted Hayder fully - which was well deserved. As of late, their tribe had to make a pact with other nomadic tribes in order to be able to stand against the newcomers to the Hadarac - and the other leaders, even not always too eager, agreed with Rasheed's suggestions. All in all, his tribe was the most numerous one among the neighboring tribes.

The sword was shiny, and the way it reflected the sun rays - Hayder has to outstretch his arm so that it wasn't covered by the shadow in which he and his daughter were sitting - was blinding now, so Hayder knew that his weapon was ready for whatever fight they had to face. The man stood up, putting his sword in the scabbard, and left it beside Jameela and he walked toward the two boys. They stopped the practice, and Akmal looked questioningly and hopefully at his father. Hayder hit his son's right leg softly with his own, so that the boy would move it further backwards. "You have to stand like this. It will give you more maneuver," - Hayder commented his action. He mimicked the stance, then relocated his right leg forward. It was only one step, but it was a wide one. Sure enough, it wasn't going to give Akmal the same advantage it gave to Hayder - not yet - but the man knew that it was one of those things that could make a difference in a fight.

As Hayder was about to take Kaphiri's spear to show Akmal just how much an advantage was of using the stance he suggested, he was distracted by another warrior, Akhom, who was clearly walking towards them. Hayder looked at the man inquiringly. Akhom looked dismal, as if something serious was going on. Hayder tensed, for he knew that this man was one of those who participated in al-Sayyid's meeting with the outsiders. "Rasheed wants to see you," - Akhom passed the order, and Hayder nodded and walked back towards the tent to fasten his scabbard to his shoulder belt that he was wearing on top of his cotton clothes. "Take care of Mensah if I do not return before dark," - he told Jameela. His younger son was looked after by his wife's family today, so he wasn't in the tent. He trusted his daughter enough to know that she would feed the two years old and sing him to sleep, even if he wasn't around. Hayder raised his children so that they would take care of each other, and he knew he did a good job at it.

Hayder joined Akhom, and together they walked through the camp towards the biggest tent - the home of their leader, Rasheed al-Sayyid. "Who are they?" - he asked his companion before they reached their destination. He believed that, if there was something that he had to know before he entered, Akhom would tell him. "Surda," - the man replied, saying nothing more. It seemed that whatever the meeting was about, Hayder would be personally briefed in the tent. He nodded to the man, who stayed by the entrance, and stepped in.

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

This was just adding insult to injury.

It was bad enough that the Varden had enlisted the Enclave, the biggest organized criminal mob in Alagaësia, to play babysitter for Nasuada while she trekked into the middle of the Hadarac Desert. It was even worse that I had been picked for the job, courtesy of both the Enclave’s leader Kolya and the Varden Rider Kyemen Straethir. After I’d accidentally kicked his ass a couple of months earlier, he told me he’d think up some way for me to atone after the summit meeting between the Varden and the Empire was over. Apparently, Nasuada had later told him of her plan to make treaties with the Nomads, and he’d remembered little old me. I felt so special. Honestly, getting fried by that big green crocodile Sierthra was better than this.

I, a well-respected lieutenant of the Enclave, now traipsed irritably through the never-ending sand dunes, cursing my life. I had brought five Enclave captains with me, making six of us. We had arranged ourselves into a little circle, with me bringing up the lead. Nasuada was in the middle. We all had sturdy, battle-ready horses, and three mules, which were supposed to have been led by one particularly annoying spoiled brat known as Sthenno Gorgophone. She was a werecat, but strongly preferred her human form of an alarmingly small teenaged girl. She had far eastern looks- slanted features, yellow-tinted skin, a small frame- but had dyed her hair blonde and magically altered her eye colour to yellowish-green, so she didn’t look all that exotic at first glance, probably to fit in with the white population. However, many other things made her stick out.

Just for starters, she was loud, demanding, and talked like a valley girl. She was just as immature as any adolescent, despite the fact that she was probably old enough to be my grandmother. She was a healer of the Varden for her magical skills, but didn’t quite have the ‘healing touch’. She was reportedly impatient with her patients, most amusingly, and sacrificed their comfort for getting the injury over and done with among other things. So, Nasuada was looking for another position she could occupy. Sthenno was an absolute failure at fighting, but she did have some speech craft going for her, if one could call it that, as well as loyalty. And she was rather pretty, if a bit flat body-wise. Her tantrums, looks, biting sarcasm, and sheer confidence even swayed me- which was why I had given her my horse, leaving me stuck with pulling the mules.

At least her strange way of dressing wasn’t obvious. For the sake of staying off the radar- a werecat, six gangsters, and a Lady would survive maybe two seconds against an Imperial Rider if the Empire found out about this idiotic trip- we had all donned disguises. Above the armour and embroidered lace, everyone had thick wrappings that the Nomads often wore while out on long hunting trips. Only our eyes were uncovered. So, should an Imperial dragon happen to swoop on by, we were probably safe. Sthenno, underneath her cloak, wore a fluttery yellow dress and the most ridiculous golden jewellery- including bangles, rings, and even a tiara. She was also wearing enough lavender perfume to stun a horse, and the Nomad outfit didn’t quite hide it. That girl really liked the colour yellow. And attention. I just had leather armour.

Currently, I was in the back of the line with the mules, while Sthenno was playing lookout at the front. The ride had mostly been quiet. Nasuada was polite enough, but didn’t think too kindly of us criminals, so she wasn’t exactly open to conversation. My five captains usually chattered, and Sthenno had screeched quite a bit, but I had hung back and opened my mouth for little more than snarky comments and sarcasm. For now, we had quieted down out of sheer exhaustion. It had been five days since we’d left Surda, riding our horses hard and stopping only for the shortest naps. Nasuada was eager to get there, and I couldn’t disagree. The faster we got there, the faster this was over. It was around midday by now, so I figured we’d stop for snacks sometime soon.

But then, Sthenno the Magnificently Annoying opened her enormous mouth. Werecat or not, I was very, very close to lopping her pretty little head off.

---

“OHMAIGOSH! You guys! I see tents!” I rose in the saddle, balancing precariously on Kieran Kolbjorn’s blue roan mare. I was too excited to worry, though. “People! Civilization! A decent bath, for once!” I did a little twirl on the saddle and promptly sat down again, feeling dizzy. The mare snorted in annoyance.
“Yay! Woohoo! Ah, that’s good. ‘Cause accordin’ to my calculations, we’re roughly in the middle o’ nowhere. Give or take.”

I glared far behind me at Kieran Kolbjorn, the gangster Nasuada had hired on. From his name and his feminine form and features, he was clearly an elf, but he had altered his features to look human. Plus, his magical ability was so low that I had mistaken him for a mortal when I’d first met him, that and the fact that he was distinctly un-elflike. A strange, rough accent, dripping sarcasm, catty insults and negativity. Apparently, he’d lived among humans all his life and then some- though he was still very good-looking and relatively unflawed, his black hair and stubble were shot through with greys, and his deep blue eyes were old and bitter, revealing a life of hardship and disappointment. That didn’t give him the right to be so mean to everyone, though!

“The tribal markings indicate it’s the al-Sayyid clan, Lieutenant,” said a quiet, but powerful voice nearby me. “We’re on their hunting grounds, too.” Malekai Sunahara, an ex-convict from the Far East and another gangster, was the one speaking. It was the first thing I’d heard him say in days. He wasn’t very social.
“Well, that’s a shock, ain’t it?” said Kieran smoothly. “Well then, kiddies, you have a go. And Miss Sthenno, gimme my fuckin’ horse back. Please? Thank you.”

With a grumble, I got off of Kieran’s horse and ploughed through the sand to the back of the line. Meanwhile, the gangsters made a tighter circle around Nasuada, and Kieran climbed onto his mare again. I snatched the mules’ tether before dragging the stinking things along behind me. They were impossible to move- weighed down with gold, jewels, and other trinkets that drove me wild with greed, as well as enough food and water to last us on the journey back. It was quite a chore, and I wasn’t the fittest girl. I grunted with effort as I yanked the rope, doing my best to keep up with the huge horses.

It took us about an hour to get there. Or more like, it took us about an hour to be spotted. Much to my terror, warriors came rushing down from the camp, armed to the teeth. I squealed and dove behind the mules, peeking up over their bodies. No one else looked particularly moved, though. Weapons were kept hidden, but several of them, including Nasuada, undid their facial bindings. I did the same, but kept behind the mules.

“Hey, kids, we ain’t parked in a red zone, are we?” sneered Kieran when the nearest warriors approached.
“Outsiders!” one of them muttered in the Nomad tongue, and I was very glad that most of them probably hadn’t understood Kieran’s comment. I was surprised to see that this tribe had very fair skin compared to the others, who were dark like ebony.
“Shall we capture them? They aren’t armed.”
“They’ve dressed like us…”
“Gentlemen.” Another criminal, an Azrael Djinnai, spoke up in the Nomad tongue. I was surprised. I’d thought the only speakers among us were Nasuada and me- her because her parents were Nomads, and me because the Nomad tongue was very similar to Agypt’s. However, Azrael was very dark- not quite as much as Nasuada, but more similar to this tribe’s. He was tall, thin, and gave off a frightening aura. Kieran kept complaining that he failed at physical fighting, but his magical skill and intellect made up for it, apparently. He just scared me. “We come to this tribe in peace. We are escorting Lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden, who wishes to-”
“I may speak for myself,” said Nasuada. “I am Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad.” A muttering went up from the Nomads at this. “I wish to speak with Rasheed al-Sayyid.”

The Nomads seemed a little miffed, and I gathered that Ajihad was very famous out here, and so Nasuada probably was too. Her mother had also been the sister of some tribe leader, if I’d heard correctly. Either way, it was enough to make them give little hesitation when they brought up their spears and pointed toward the camp, where a small crowd of curious onlookers had gathered. So, no bloodshed just yet.

“We will inform al-Sayyid of your arrival, milady,” one of them said.
“Well? What did he say?” Kieran glared at us. “What?”
“We can come in, lieutenant,” said Azrael, nudging his stallion with his ankles.
“Oh. That went well.” Kieran kicked his mare into a trot, and his lackeys were quick to follow. Nasuada rode near the head. As for me, I just pulled the mules.

We had to wait a very long time to see al-Sayyid. It was nearly sundown by the time we were called for. The horses and mules were stabled with the Nomads’ own, so at least I didn’t have to yank anymore. We were to sit in an empty tent used for dying that smelled absolutely disgusting, and I didn’t get the bath I’d so longed for. At least we’d removed all our Nomad clothes, so I wasn’t dying of heat anymore. However, we were given our fair share of dirty looks from the tribe folk. I felt like even more of an outcast here than I did in the Varden. I clung to my seat when an older man finally walked inside.

“al-Sayyid is ready to see the outsiders. All of them.” He spoke roughly in the common tongue while eyeing me and the gangsters. “Follow me, please.”

We traipsed after him quietly, although we could have easily gotten there without his lead- the enormous tent in the middle of the camp was very clearly al-Sayyid’s. But then, I supposed they wanted to keep us under close watch. Even Kieran seemed a little awkward at the number of stares we received- curiosity, fear, anger. It was a relief when we were finally able to slip into the relative privacy of the big tent. But then again, it was a big tent, and it was packed. Most of the men were senior warriors and hunters of the tribe, but there were several women, too, probably healers and spiritual shamans. The tent was full of an assortment of strange items, some I recognized as shrines to the Nomad gods, but most were totally unknown to me. Back when I was revered as the goddess Bastet in Agypt, I’d only gotten food and gold. And it was likely that Nomads and Agyptens were only similar in physical appearance and language, too.

“Warm welcomes,” said a man seated on an eloquent throne at the far side of the tent. Rasheed al-Sayyid. He was all grey, probably in his late forties, and his face was pinched from age. I loved my eternal youth. I really did. I’d never look like that. “The necessary introductions will be made in a few moments.” He was speaking in the common tongue, and very nicely, too, although with a thick accent. “I am awaiting two other warriors to- ah! Akhom, Hayder.”

I turned around to see two men entering the tent. One had the hardened look of a warrior, and he eyed us outsiders with little enthusiasm. The other was a good-looking man who stood out because of his bright blue eyes- I hadn’t seen a Nomad without brown eyes before. He looked at us with little enthusiasm as well, but it wasn’t as harsh as most of the glares we’d received. Still, I turned away and kept my gaze on al-Sayyid.

“Wonderful. We are all here. I am Rasheed al-Sayyid, chief of this tribe. If our guests would introduce themselves…?” He motioned to Nasuada.

Words;; 2076
Muse;; Not good! First post in more than two weeks!
Thoughts;; Sorry for the crappiness.

[Lady Nayeli]

Everything seemed to be going well... For the most part of this journey that I and my comrades had embarked on. I had mostly wanted a dragon rider to come, but Eragon was still no where to be found and the others believed it too dangerous to travel to the Desert and risk being seen and having the Nomads attacked. I agreed, but I could not even get a single soul to go with me that I wanted. No elves that I was comfortable with or Turin, a warrior that I respected highly for. The Criminal Mod, the Enclave, seemed fit for this mission, but of course Kolya and Kyemen had to pick Kieran Kolbjorn, to go with us. I did not mind, but I knew it was because of the fact that he had nearly killed Kyemen and he was making sure he got back at him for that. I had hoped for Kyemen to go, but I was wrong and I was sent with him and others, even a Werecat had come along with us, which was by far fine by me.

Kieran was a Lieutenant in the Enclave and I trusted him some, for the most part, just not completely. I mean, all of these men were in fact... Criminals... It did not matter if they were good or not, they still did terrible things and I did not really enjoy being in their company. He had brought six others with him, Captains, but I stayed in the middle, which was not something I cared for. I felt like I was trapped and honestly, I would rather feel more comfortable with the Nighthawks, the Kulls, Elves, and Dwarves that protected me. The horse I rode was my own battle horse, a black frisian, his mane combed to perfection in my eyes and his coat kept clean.

Now, there was a very hyper, immature werecat who was with us... Sthenno Gorgophone, who seemed to love being in her human form. I did not mind it, she was a kid at heart, gave me something to laugh at when she annoyed Kieran. She was a healer and she was a rather cute young lady. Her eastern looks gave her a appearance of some of the rich imperial people and her hair was dyed blond, which was rather breath taking in some points. Her eyes altered so she did not get that exotic look all the time, but many things made her stick out. She was a very demanding young lady and if she would mature some I could see her as a leader in a way, but then again, I doubted she would ever mature. Even though she was a healer, she did not have that touch, she was very impatient and she just wanted to get things done with, she did not care for comfort. I wanted to find her a better spot other healing she could be placed in. She was crafty, that was for sure and even I knew this and she had also had many things about her that could sway everyone into believing her, like, Kieran giving up his horse and pulling the mulls around.

I found it rather funny, but if her clothing was showing, I would find it rather risky. She wore yellow it seemed all the time and if a rider went over and we were not hidden then we would be in real trouble. We were all wearing disguises, making us look Nomadic. I was happy my father had taught me something about the tribes, since that was my past. He had taught me well also, showed me how to dress and I did it daily. The clothing was heavy and thick, but in the end, it was better then being exposed to the blistering sun. It was actually cooler under the clothing, with places that allowed air to come through, but the sun rays could not work down into the clothing, but it did get a little hot at times. Though, these were hunting clothes, I did not mind, I knew that we would fix everything as soon as we got to the tribe.

I knew that Sthenno was wearing a fluttery, yellow dress under all her nomadic clothing. She also had jewelery, rings and bangles and then, for some strange reason, she was wearing a tiara. Even I did not wear such a thing, it meant royalty and that I was not. I was just the daughter of a man who took the roll of a leader and I had taken the same role. I was no ones Queen or Princess and I would possible, never be a Queen or Princess.

I was wearing my battle outfit, it was more comfortable then my normal wardrobe, the tight golden armor, my sword, hidden under the cloaks, my hair pulled back with golden laces and my legs covered in black trouser. My dress split down at my hip and went all the way down to my feet, on both sides, allowing me to ride a house with no problem.

Sthenno was doing a fine job for as a look out, but still, I had yet to become to fond of these criminals, so I kept to myself still, only Sthenno I felt comfortable with. I just wished at least one dragon rider would come and keep me company and mostly Eragon. We had a history and I gave him all my respected and deep inside I cared for the man. I had a feeling that the men I was with were normally talking up a storm, but they were silent today, from the long days of travel, I did not blame them. Five days of long travel and I hoped that it would be the last day of travel, if not, we would have to turn back in order to have food the rest of the way home.

As I was about to allow myself to relax some, I was pulled back to the present day as Sthenno let her vocals pierce the air around us. “OHMAIGOSH! You guys! I see tents!” I placed my hand over my eyes and looked out, even I saw the tents. She was standing in place as she looked at the tents. “People! Civilization! A decent bath, for once!” I looked at her for a moment and rolled my eyes and just smiled under the cloaks that hid most of my face. She could give up on the back, that was for sure.

I knew that a bath might be a long stroke, most the people in a tribe barely had water to drink, much less take a bath unless they were going to be going into a town. “Yay! Woohoo! Ah, that’s good. ‘Cause accordin’ to my calculations, we’re roughly in the middle o’ nowhere. Give or take.” He was about right, we were in the middle of no where at the moment and soon we would be in the middle of a tribal area and there would be little freedom until we made out peace known throughout the whole camp. I did not look at Sthenno, knowing she did not like Kieran. I knew that she was not too fond of him, but I went with what the rider said, he had hired them for a reason, even I did not know what kind of reason.

I knew that Kieran was a elf, though she did not act like one, barely looked like one and he lived with the humans so long that he seemed to of forgot how to be a elf, which was by far, find by me. This was his life, not my own and if he wanted to be a human, he could be a human. “The tribal markings indicate it’s the al-Sayyid clan, Lieutenant,” I nodded, I had seen the markings before and my father had spoken about this tribe a few times. “We’re on their hunting grounds, too.” I looked at Malekai Sunahara for a moment. Hunting grounds were the nomads domain and being here was like being in a battle zone.

“Well, that’s a shock, ain’t it?” I rolled my eyes before look down at him as he came up to us. He was a bit of a jerk sometimes, but I did not get involved in his relationships. “Well then, kiddies, you have a go. And Miss Sthenno, gimme my fuckin’ horse back. Please? Thank you.” He got up on the horse and the circle around me grew tighter and I did not like it. I knew it was possible for my own safety, but that did not mean I had to like it. Sthenno took the mules back and began to pull them towards the camp. I kept my eyes on the came, I did not want to cause any problems with them. It was the last thing that I wanted to do.

It took the camp a little less then a hour to finally see us coming, which was not surprising, we had been on a slight sand dune, so I knew that it was hard to see in the desert. The camp sent out warriors and I pulled my horse to a stop and with ease, pulled my facing binding down, allowing my dark skin to be seen as I looked at them. “Hey, kids, we ain’t parked in a red zone, are we?” I was about ready to hurt him. The group called us outsiders in their tongue and I hated the thought of that. We were friendly, but they had yet to know this.

Kieran could use a good hit on the back of the head that might make him shut up, since the group had not understood him. The group seemed to be speaking about capture and then how we looked like them. “Gentlemen.” It was Azrael, a criminal fluent in the nomadic tongue, which was good. I knew the language well enough, and I knew that he held the same dark skin as I, however, I was darker then he was. “We come to this tribe in peace. We are escorting Lady Nasuada, leader of the Varden, who wishes to-”

I snapped my head to him, my voice ringing from the lips. “I may speak for myself,”

[/color] I said, pushing my way forward and allowing my voice to become the nomadic language and looking at them all . “I am Nasuada, daughter of Ajihad.”[/color] The muttering came, which did not surprise me one bit, he was a well known figure in the nomadic tribes. “I wish to speak with Rasheed al-Sayyid.”[/color] The nomads seemed a bit surpirsed, but I knew it was mostly because I had told them that he was my father. My mother had been alive out here, though I did not know her and never would since I had a feeling she was dead and gone. As they pointed to the tents I looked to see women and children standing around and then I looked back at the men.

“We will inform al-Sayyid of your arrival, milady,” I nodded my thanks and watched him leave, just as Kieran started begging to know what was dead. Then Azrael told him we could go in. I just rolled my eyes, how much I wished that I could tell him that they had planned to capture us, but I kept my mouth shut and we moved on from there towards the tents.

After we went in, we allowed some of the men to take the horses and placed them with the others so they could eat and we went into a tent of our own. Sthenno was happy not to have pull those mules, but the tent we were in was not the best place to be, since it was used for dying. She did not seem happy about the bath thing and not getting one, but it was no surprise to me that there was no bath waiting for her. Honestly, I did not care, I just wanted to get this over with. I had taken away our nomadic clothing and placed it in a neat pile so that when we left I could put it back on. “al-Sayyid is ready to see the outsiders. All of them.” I stood and looked at them as they ordered us to follow them to the largest tent. I knew inside would be the leader of the tribe and his family and then also the shamen.

As we entered I saw many of the warriors, the healers, the hunters, the shamen who I had expected to see. I looked at the man in the middle, he was the most important. “Warm welcomes,” I nodded, a pleasant smile on my face as I looked at Rasheed al-Sayyid, the leader of the Nomad tribe. He was a older man and a man who deserved the respect from all of his tribal people and more then that, everyone who came into his home. “The necessary introductions will be made in a few moments.” He was speaking in common tongue, which made things much easier for me to understand and keep up with. “I am awaiting two other warriors to- ah! Akhom, Hayder.” I turned my head to the entrance of the tent.

Two men were in their, one a hardened warrior and he looked at us with little interest, but the other... A handsome man, who's eyes stood out and made me stair for just a moment. He had beautiful blue eyes, a rarity among the people of the desert and something I found rather handsome. He also looked at us with little interest, but it was not nearly as harsh as the others, but I then turned my head back to al-Sayyid. “Wonderful. We are all here. I am Rasheed al-Sayyid, chief of this tribe. If our guests would introduce themselves…?” His motion towards me cause me to step forward slightly, to show who was speaking.

"I am Nasuada, daughter of Alijad and leader of the Varden." I did not state my business here, since this was merely for introductions only I did not care to get long winded just yet.
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