A small figure stood next to one of his massive mektoub packers, securing the straps that kept his many wares in place. The young Tryker trader named Be'rory Thogen double, triple, and even quadruply checked the straps to make sure all was secure. "You never can be too careful about such things", the figure said to one of the beasts as he made a final round, satisfying himself of his handiwork. Working the long trade routes often left one conversing with their meks as if they were close kin.

"I remember this one time when crotchety ol' Be'gakry Cobble lost a whole months work, ker-splash!" the figure said very pleased with the state of his packers, which had baggages tied this way and that and overflowing with trinkets, clothing and materials. "His packer belt slipped loose as he crossed the plank into Crystabel, just moments away from delivering his goods. Ha!" The old story was often told by the younger Tryker traders as if they had been there themselves. "Ker-splash!" he chortled. The mektoub just huffed through its long snout, anxious to get moving.

A small breeze rustled a parchment tacked to the post his mektoubs were tied to. It was a newer piece, with letters scrawled across it from a Tryker's hand.

"What's this? Is someone leaving me love letters?" Be'rory laughed and read the document. His smile left him as he read.

A warning to all traders! Beware the trade routes of the Burning Desert. Their maintenance has fallen to ill and bandits can be found roaming freely.
Many traders have not been properly compensated for their water deliveries.
If you trade these routes, it will be at your peril. Travel with guard if you must.

"Oh my," Be'rory patted one of the mektoubs on the trunk, "that is bad news, indeed. It's a good thing we're not leaving the lakelands any time soon."

The small Tryker and his mektoub friends headed off, following the contours of the beach.