“Although the caravan ride here was not long it was a most unpleasant experience. The dust of the road seemed to cling to me like a second skin even though I spent most of my time in the covered wagon. I was relieved however to see the city which was so full of activity and has such magnificent vessels. Not to mention there should be a bath house I may attend with due haste. Alas that had to be put on hold as duty dictates that I wait in this low rent establishment for a courier to deliver a message to me. I will be most grateful when I can return to my proper station but for now I must endure these indignities. My courier arrives, although a bit late he is most courteous for what looks to be a desert nomad. As I read the note I am beset by two women who apparently have no where to sit. Although they are far from the courtly women I am use to, I would be rude not to allow them to join me. However had I known that would be an invitation to a young street urchin and a rather large specimen of a female warrior, I wouldn’t have invited the first two. To make matters worse we all were threatened by some local thugs. It is a shame that the local guards here are unable to provide a proper show of force, letting these hoodlums run uncontested. When I arrive at my destination I will let the local authorities know about the foul goings on in this part of the city.”
Respectfully your son, Maysor.