*The guards confer for a brief moment, and their captain makes a nod.*
"That is quite acceptable and proper. Our guards will protect your charges as if they were your own. Please leave your weapons here, so that you know where they are," he says, waving to a small carpet. It's obviously old and worn, probably why it was relegated to this duty. The weapons will be left on the carpet, halfway between the guards and the tents. You know where they are at all times, and the guards will not touch them.
*When everyone is disarmed who is going to be, you are conducted to the tent of Kadar. Inside it is lit with oil lamps with various colors of glass shades. Carpets line the floor, and cushions are scattered about the periphery. A low table sits in front of Kadar, a solid mountain of a man, plump with good living, groaning with a variety of food.*
*He wears red silk robes with heavy gold embroidery. A blue and red sash has a decorative dagger thrust through it, and his turban has several peacock feathers attached to the front, along with an aquarmarine gem. A half-dozen slave girls with mostly decorative gold chains about their ankles and waists rise to great you and give you coffee, palm wine, milk, and clear water.*
"Welcome to my humble tent, my most excellent guests!" Kadar says in a jolly voice. "Come, eat, drink, and tell me what brings you to cross the wastes."