[color=662d91][b][center][color=a187be][h1]Mahaad Abshir[/h1][/color][/center][/b][/color]

The Dust Way was characteristically empty on this day. A few merchants had passed by, all heading in the opposite direction and far too parched and exhausted to speak to any other travellers as a result of the merciless heat of the sun beating into their sweat-stained skin with each minute that passed. The trail of footsteps they left behind indicated a trek beginning at Zar Endal, but the end goal of their journey was anyone's guess. The vast emptiness of the Red Desert, save for the longstanding settlements that dotted the map, provided plenty of turns one could take, but whether or not they would lead anywhere was a different story entirely. Whether or not these travellers would even survive long enough to see an end to their routes was, also, an entirely different story as well. The dangers of travelling in the Red Desert was something Mahaad Abshir was all too familiar with, as he had seen his fair share over the last decade or so since docking on the shores of the Avanagashan Wastes.

Mahaad truly knew only part of the perils of travelling across the Desert, though. When he first arrived here, he travelled by foot much like these poor merchants he saw from the window of his carriage. Now, however, his profession as a slaver had provided him with riches enough to find ways around the more difficult aspects of the gruelling expeditions from one Drathan city-state to the next, and back through the lands to track down more of the Nyr'Kiin. Mahaad was not born a slaver - he was born a poor boy in a land of murderers and thieves, and in fact had only fallen into the business by chance over the past few years, after migrating to the Avanagashan Wastes. Neither did he have any experience as a slave, thankfully, but the slave trade was particularly popular among the Dratha, and they paid well for any and all of these insectfolk that Mahaad could track down. At the expense of these creatures' lives, Mahaad Abshir found himself wealthier than he had ever been, and saw little to no reason why he should not feel proud of what he had accomplished. Some of the aboriginals in the travel cell behind him may think otherwise, but he suspected their lives would be short enough that their opinions on his lifestyle would matter none. 

As the night grew darker, the Nyr'Kiin who pulled the carriages through the sand with ropes over their hardened green shoulders were given an opportunity to rest - a dead slave is hardly any use to anyone, after all. One of Mahaad's travelling companions and fellow slave trader, Ta'Bat Aaab, loosened the rope's grip from around the creature's hands to allow them enough freedom to bring some food to their inhuman mouths before sleeping through the cold desert night. The third of the group - a burly fellow in charge of rounding up the Nyr'Kiin, known simply as Khan - inspected the carriage and slave cart before the blackness of nightfall completely enveloped the group's environment. Mahaad remained inside the carriage, pouring red wine into three silver goblets for he and his companions, though Mahaad's love of alcohol seemed to vastly overpower that of Ta'Bat and Khan. Still, with such a successful journey thus far, and a cart full of insectoids ready for sale, he figured it was as good a time as any to celebrate. To help Khan and Ta'Bat truly appreciate the moment, Mahaad slipped something extra into their cups - a few droplets of an Eyhwanian mixture known simply as 'Molii,' or, 'Lullaby' in his native tongue.

The first to step back into the carriage was Ta'Bat, whose face was scrunched in disgust. His curly moustache hairs tickled the corners of his wide mouth as he did so, and his second chin pressed against what Mahaad could see of his neck. Without even closing the door behind him, he wiped his hands in a nearby cloth, inspecting them once before grabbing again for the rag. Meticulously, he wrapped it around each finger, giving each one as thorough a cleaning as a small rag could offer.

"One of them touched me," Ta'Bat said as an answer to the question he knew was about to escape Mahaad's lips. "I explicitly tell these cretins to avoid touching me every time I handle them, and, without fail, one of them always manages to do it anyway. Vermin."

Mahaad shook his head with a wide grin, baring his teeth. The locks of his hair brushed against the back of his neck with each sweeping movement, and he reached out with one of his hands to offer his fellow slaver one of the drinks.

"[color=a187be]Here, my friend,[/color]" he said, deciding against any mention of the incident. "[color=a187be]There are no free women about, but wine and song will get us through our last night in this desert. Zar Endal is but half a day's journey, and we should celebrate yet another successful endeavour together.[/color]"

Mahaad's inviting smile followed each of his words, acting as the final piece to the puzzle of convincing Ta'Bat to let loose for a night. The shorter slaver's fat fingers wrapped around the goblet Mahaad offered, clinking it against Mahaad's in cheers. Before the two could carry out any further conversation, Khan's daunting figure stepped through the open door of the trio's carriage. Khan was not much of a speaker, and the oversized human man hunched slightly when attempting to stand at his full height in the relatively small vehicle. Upon the sight of his two companions drinking from their goblets, the third slaver wasted no time taking his own and downing the liquid that filled the cup, which looked about ready to break under the pressure of his grasp. 

The sight of his two comrades drinking excitedly from their goblets had Mahaad grinning devilishly from behind his own. The liquid cooled the inside of his mouth, and he knew that the three of them would be deep into the wine bottle before the end of the night - some more than others. He took the opportunity to give the group a proper moment to congratulate themselves, while his words were still coherent, and while his fellows could still speak at all.

"[color=a187be]To the bags of endless coin that will load this carriage come tomorrow's night, to the endless women I will waste it on, and to the endless days to come where we will continue to do the same![/color]" Mahaad exclaimed, his Eyhwanian accent still strong despite living amongst the people of the Avanagashan Wastes for a number of years at this point. His toast was followed by a loud applause from both Ta'Bat and Khan, and though his spiel was short and sweet, it served its purpose. 

[i][color=a187be]Like many things in this life,[/color][/i] he thought to himself. [i][color=a187be]Life itself, too, is all too often short and sweet.[/color][/i]

The three ne'er-do-wells sat round a small lounging area in the wagon, taking turns regaling stories of their escapades together, sharing laughs, and drinking the containments of the large bottle that had sat in the carriage for, as far as Mahaad was concerned, far too long. 

Ta'Bat and Khan had been successful slavers in the Red Desert for a number of years. Upon the discovery of the popularity that Nyr'Kiin slaves held among the Drathan population for a number of reasons, the duo had seemingly struck a goldmine. Ta'Bat was a businessman at heart, and with the physical help of Khan, rounding up aboriginals for the pale abhuman mage-lords of the local city-states soon became their area of expertise. Mahaad's role came a year or two later, when Ta'Bat realized his operation had become bigger than he originally anticipated. It became difficult for him to manage so many slaves at once, while transporting them and selling them all on his own. Khan, while a proper brute of a man, lacked significantly in areas of mercantile and trade, so Mahaad acting as an extra set of hands went a long way for the operation. At first, he simply did as he was told, with the promise of his fair share of the profit. As the months passed, however, the newfound slave trader proved himself to be much more proficient as the face of the business, despite being a foreigner of this land. Since then, the Eyhwanian man has handled the majority of trade deals and the more intricate social aspects of slave trading. This is the structure the group has stuck with over the years, with Mahaad slowly gaining more of a leadership role amongst them, and actively filling his own pockets with a little more of each trip's profits than the last. It was a healthy relationship he shared with the two, and his seemingly unending lust for wealth and all the fine things that come along with it was being sated with each group of Nyr'Kiin they dropped off.

Mahaad had grown to respect the two men significantly, as they all seemed to have similar interests. They led their lives in similar ways, and indulged in similar things. It was a shame, though, that the partnership had to come to such an abrupt end.

Just as Khan was getting ready to down another glass of wine and compliment the haul of slaves they'd pulled this time around, a lump began to form in his throat. At first, he attempted to clear his airway as one would do to clear a build-up of mucus. It failed, and a confused expression soon formed on the large man's face. His thick hands began to caress his throat, massaging the sides that were hidden away behind his thick beard. His brow furrowed as he found himself struggling to breathe as the seconds passed, almost as though he were having an allergic reaction. The man's eyes began to quickly dart from left to right as he realized just how much his throat had started to close, and the panic set in even more when he saw the normally flush skin on Ta'Bat's face shift from reddish pink to a pale white, and then take on a more blueish tone - an indication that Khan was not the only one struggling to breathe.

Mahaad's breathing, however, was perfectly fine. He sat quietly, smiling behind his cup as he watched the two struggle for air, gripping anything they could as though their firm grasp on the edge of a chair would be enough to pull them back from the afterlife that was sucking them from one realm to another. Cups fell as the two men flailed their arms, and spilled wine seeped into the tan rug that lay across the floor beneath them. Finishing the remnants of his own goblet, Mahaad stood up, now towering over Khan and Ta'Bat who had fallen to the floor in agony. Small gasps of breath occasionally popped through their closed airways, but at this point, all three men knew that only one of them would be waking up in the morning. The molii Mahaad had slipped into their drinks earlier in the night was far too large a dosage, and the liquid had gone from a simple enhancer for those who like to overindulge in alcohol, to a deadly poison that would numb a man's entire body and cease some of his vital organs from cooperating with the rest of their body. Mahaad had used the last remaining drops of molii he had left on the two, and was pleasantly surprised to see the toxin working its magic in such a short amount of time.

"[color=a187be]We did some great things together, you and I,[/color]" Mahaad said, as though either of the dying men could respond. "[color=a187be]But nothing lasts forever, my friends. You know this as well as I.[/color]

"[color=a187be]Plus,[/color]" Mahaad spoke again when he heard the last struggle of life leave Khan's muscular body, indicating that he had finally given up the fight for life. Ta'Bat, unsurprisingly, had succumbed to the molii's grasp much quicker. "[color=a187be]It will be much easier to steal your coin now that you are not alive to fight for it.[/color]"

Mahaad was not a malicious man. He was an ambitious man - a man who took risks to ensure the future he lusted for. At least, that's what he told himself. Were Ta'Bat or Khan capable of speaking after death, they may have other words they would use to describe their former friend, but while Mahaad was the only one capable of thought or speech in the room, 'ambitious' was the word he settled on. With these two unable to claim their reward for these Nyr'Kiin slaves, Mahaad would be more than happy to accept it on their behalf - tripling his own profit. When the time came that he'd need more money, perhaps he would seek out more slavers to work with. Perhaps he would make his rounds back to Eyhwan for a while. The possibilities were endless, and that's the way he liked it.

[color=a187be][b][center]---[/center][/b][/color]

The Nyr'Kiin slaves had done a good job of carrying Mahaad to Zar Endal, he had to admit. They had managed to get him to the city by midday, almost as if they were excited to move on to the next phase of their enslavement. That being said, Mahaad suspected that with the absence of Khan and Ta'Bat's weight, the carriage was significantly easier to pull through the Dust Way. If anything, these were an eager batch of slaves, which would only increase the number of coins that would have lined Mahaad's pockets upon their sale.

'Would have' was the key part of that thought, however. Mahaad had little energy left to think about the prowess of his slaves, as upon entering Zar Endal, he was told that the mage-lord Alkhazar had up and left, his sights set on Zar Vorgul - a city that sat a several days' journey if one were to travel straight through the Red Desert. This would likely have been valuable information for Mahaad to have prior to murdering his coworkers and leaving their bodies as a meal for the beasts of the Desert.

Frustrated by the unexpected turn of events, the slaver wasted no time preparing for yet another journey, the only reassurance he felt from the situation being the fact that this trek would be significantly shorter than the last. With the score of Nyr'Kiin locked away in their mobile cell, Mahaad weaved through the busy marketplace of Zar Endal to collect what he'd need for the next couple of days. There was a small relief in knowing that he was only buying for one slaver now, rather than three - two of which could eat enough to satisfy another two. Still, Mahaad left the market district with more than he paid for, which was often the outcome of his shopping sprees. Surely, the merchants would not miss what they did not even know was gone.

[color=a187be][center][b]---[/b][/center][/color]

The Nyr'Kiin spoke little to Mahaad. He suspected they knew of his treachery, given the obvious absence of Khan and Ta'Bat, but also suspected his actions ultimately mattered very little to creatures whose lives were either going to be miserable in the coming years, or come to an end in the coming days. 

They had been pulling his carriage, as well as their own holding container, for about a day now since leaving Zar Endal. The group was making some good time, all things considered, and so far they had run into nothing that would pose any proper threat. Perhaps the creatures of the sand weren't fond of the taste of aboriginals, or perhaps they had just been lucky. If it were the latter, Mahaad could only hope that this luck would not run dry before reaching Zar Vorgul. He figured they were not too far from their destination at this point, and hopefully he'd be able to drop off these insectfolk with one of the Drathan mage-lords - whether that was Alkhazar, Qazr, or some other pale-faced 'nobleman,' and call it a job well done. He had worked hard for this, and eagerly anticipated the chance to relax and toss golden coins at naked women in some sleezy hole-in-the-wall tavern - his favourite way to waste time.

In the meantime, Mahaad had some peace and quiet to enjoy. Though he could have been partaking in semi-legal activities with an empty bottle of wine in one hand and the garments of an Avanagashan woman in the other by now, his natural optimism told him to enjoy what time he had to himself, no matter how it came about. Though travelling through a sandy wasteland with a bunch of malnourished Nyr'Kiin may not be his favourite way to spend a day or two, it was all he had at the moment, and he intended to make the best of it.

The Eyhwanian lay back, closing his eyes and letting the sway of the carriage soothe his mind. His muscles relaxed, and the stresses of the previous day whisked away into the faint winds of the Red Desert. He felt peace, for the first time in a while.

Perhaps he should have killed his comrades sooner rather than later.