The man breathes a sigh of relief, "Finally, I've arrived in Tsarn". The small trading post, known throughout the desert regions as a link between the supply routes for the many kingdoms that dot the Jannaham Desert. Thinking back, the man recalls that there were at least six major powers in the desert. However, he couldn't recall the names except for one of them.

Thinking back, he remembered that it was located at the edge of the desert. Known as the Alten Kingdom, it's a traders dream. Due to being located next to the rich mines of the desert, and the lush and fertile soil of the floodplains. In short, it's a city that is a paradise, and as such the people are a benevolent bunch.

It's capital is strategically located in the event of an attack from rival kingdoms or barbarians. Known as a beacon of hope to all weary travelers, the kingdoms capital city is universally known as Hoffen. Were anyone to walk into a tavern to order some water or something to drink, they would be able to hear someone talking about their travels into the city.

"After so long maneuvering through the desert, seeing nothing but the shifting sands and the occasional dried up remains of some long dead animal" he was finally were he wanted to be. After all, being the link for nearly all the kingdoms of the desert, Tsarn had to remain a neutral post. Being such, that allowed the city to serve as a way station for caravans that would provide escorts, for a fee.

'Yeah right, like I would trust someone to escort me through this desert" thought the man. He had been a frequent traveler of this particular desert for a little over two years, and had become fairly acquainted with the harsh terrain. In addition to the conditioning, he had become accustomed to the shifty behavior most people in the desert displayed.

It shouldn't come as a surprise that many people who wander in the desert with a group of strangers are, more often than usual, never seen again. People tend to pay a hefty fee for some mercenaries protection, and sometimes they can't protect them. That's understandable, as many people who are new to the unforgiving desert must learn to be very cautious.

However, people from other lands are not as cautious as they should be, and are typically the victims of the dangers of the desert. The most common ones are the sand waves that bury the travelers, the nocturnal predators that wander searching for food, or even the hungry dunes that swallow the travelers whole.

Though with all of this in mind one would think that it would be the desert itself that would be the obvious enemy, and one would be correct in thinking this, under natural circumstances. Though, in unnatural circumstances, the very people hired to protect you would be the one's to take your life. It's a rather uncommon though, as it is bad for business when your clients die, and somehow you wind up richer than a typical mercenary would.

There have been tales of people who work in conjunction with brigands, bandits, and thieves in order to pose a fake ambush. The mercenary would lead the caravan to a remote area, possibly near some rock formations for the impression of resting and cooling off. Once the travelers lower their guard and begin to relax do the pirates of the sands emerge to threaten their lives.

Of course, the mercenary fakes getting unconscious or incapacitated, only after a valiant effort to thwart the robbers. After the valuables are collected and secured, the robbers depart and leave the travelers without their goods or treasures. In response the mercenary would then lead the caravan back to Tsarn to regroup and rethink a way of replacing their stolen goods.

A few days after the event, the mercenary would wander towards the rock formations that he took the caravan in search of his cut. This dead-drop method is common for the people of the desert as it is an agreement with the bandit chief and the mercenary. This just goes to show that even in the desert, there is a form of honor among thieves.

The man understood all of this, and knew his way around the desert. Not to mention, he had a constant eye in the sky that could alert him of incoming bandits. In the event that the bandits did happen to come near him, he would do one of two things: he would fight them off if there was less than three, or if there were more he would dig a hole and bury himself.

Prior to being buried, he would wrap his face in cloth and place a reed into his mouth. He would then attempt to cover up his entire body and hide his body. Thus, he would be completely hidden and simply wait until the bandits departed. up until now he had to resort to one of the two methods in order to survive.

Now however, he didn't need to do that as he was right outside of Tsarn. The traveler began to walk towards the city, but not before signalling for his hawk to relax and await his command. The man would recite a special whistle that was imprinted on the bird to signify that he could hunt, and rest. Once the man was ready to travel again, all he would need to do was signal the hawk to report back to duty.

Upon hearing the first whistle, the hawk screeched and began to descend towards the rooftops of the city. No doubt the bird of prey was going to take his time in observing the new town. In any event, the man continued on his way to the town.