He gestures expansively to the ridge behind, "You are all welcome to stay as long as you can feed yourselves. The gods above and below would have us dead in the sands if we denied you. Besides, what would I rake up here, now that I cannot go home? The sand does not sprout even if you water it, Farouk. Come, come, bring your animals, we will help you set up your tents."
They do, with the efficiency of ones who have spent years setting up tents every day.
The encampment is spartan, with just the tents, the camels, a few amphora and the fire visible. There's not quite enough space in the tents for every man to sleep at once, and the ground inside them is bare. The fire burns in the center of the camp, hot and constantly fed even in the heat of the summer day. The scent of the burning camel dung mixes with the scent of barley; a worn old man with a crooked smile sits beside it, carefully laying out sheets of dough on a flat stone next to the fire, flipping them with his bare fingers and placing them in a woven basket as they finish cooking.
Though rough looking, the men are friendly and helpful, if thoroughly impolite.
One man with only one hand and several missing teeth makes a point of leering at Finnithir and Lilly as he awkwardly helps stake a tent, muttering under his breath more than loud enough to be heard, "What sins did your parents commit? Why have the gods done this to you?" He looks at the ground as he says it, and rocks his head back and forth strangely, blinking his eyes.
As the tents are being set up, Sabit approaches Suen, standing very close beside him. "It could be useful," she whispers, "Knowing these men are here. If we can discover who is in charge, you could make sure that they serve our needs."
She looks into Suen's face, smiling, unflinching at the sight of the strange, otherworldly eyes, but the smile is fixed and there is no happiness behind it. It is the smile of a predator toying with her prey. "You are so very useful to the church sometimes, little brother. What would I ever do without you?"
Looking through Maximillian's eyes, Arzon purrs with inhuman vocalizations, "None of these. He would not be pleased with them. We must find someone better."