A crash of lightning jolted Sly out of unconsciousness. The three hunters had not relented until he had blacked out. His puffy eyes struggled to open as the smell of burning flesh assailed his nose. Laying next to him was the burnt body of one of the hunters. Clashing swords echoed above Sly as he fought his aching body to rise. Blood splattered across his back as the downed rogue managed to turn his body over. Propping himself up by the elbows, Sly managed to see what was happening around him. 

The hunters' leader had a short sword and was quickly overwhelmed by an unknown ally. A strange nathar wielded a long spear with deadly precision. The serpentine person had the upper torso of a pale man; around his lower belly, the squishy flesh of a humanoid was transformed into the rigid scales of a snake. Swinging behind it was a tail tipped with a venomous stinger. Try as the warrior might, he was under-prepared to deal with the longer reach of the serpent folk. Blocking a jab from the spear left him open to a strike from the stinger. As the sharp body part pierced the armor of the warrior, he gasped in pain and dropped dead. Seeing this, Sly pushed his body to rise, unsure if this nathar was truly an ally.

"I hear you've been looking for Samel," spoke the nathar with a deep voice that resonated along the walls of the alleyway. Sly looked into his eyes, trying to gauge his intentions. nathar were uncommon in the northern regions of Daraan, so Sly did not see many of them in his home city. Sly had dealt with a fence that belonged to the serpent race. He had always thought he was good at reading the fence. Nothing on the face of the nathar hinted at his thoughts: He just continued staring at Sly, waiting for a response. 

The rogue's dagger lay in the dirt, and for a moment, he considered grabbing it to defend himself. He knew he would have little chance of reaching it and even a slimmer chance of using it against the spear. The pain was still shooting through his body at the early beating Sly had taken; his best hope was in answering this nathar honestly and hoping for the best.

 "You are correct, Sir; I've heard that the Slaver Samel knows how to cross the desert of ruins without angering the Inkellin tribes." Sly slowly bent down to retrieve his dagger. While he did so, he kept an eye on the movement of the nathar. 

"What could you offer, Samel?" The nathar backed up awkwardly, letting Sly have room to move. It quickly became apparent that the nathar would not harm the rogue. Then it occurred to Sly: Who was this nathar, and why had he gone out of his way to interfere? 

"What is it that Samel requires of me?" questioned Sly, figuring out that this must be the Slavers' leader. It was a strange habit of the nathar nobility to speak of themselves in the first person. Why would a lord of the serpent folk be working as a slaver? 

"Samel requires a job once Samel gets you to the southern realms," The nathar encircled Sly as it waited for the varishu's answer. He sensed the job would be a big ask and possibly greater than getting through the desert. A sigh came from Sly as he realized this would be the second deal he had cut during this journey, yet who knew what opportunities the southern realm may have for him? In addition, Sly needed to escape the Morglith clan. It was becoming increasingly obvious that they would continue to chase him unless he got far, far away.

"Very well, if you get me through the desert, I will complete one task for you." A curved smile came to Samel as they walked out of the alley together. 

The caravan left in the afternoon, and as they began the trek through the dunes, Sly wondered how the southern land would compare. The next three weeks were an adventure, but one for a different tale. Sly had reached the land of Earador. When he first crossed the Rushing River, he could not fathom what he would accomplish in the days ahead.