Any dune trader can tell you that travel along Athas’s few roads is only slightly less risky than forging out across the wilderness. Bandits and brigands roam the trade routes, falling upon those who travel without sufficient protection. Slavers lie in wait to pounce on those who get lost or become abandoned, snatching them up to sell in the slave market of the nearest city-state. Such threats pale in comparison to the creatures of Athas that are bold enough to attack caravans, or to sneak into a guarded camp at night and snatch a single victim. Belgoi, for example, have been known to lure away caravan guards standing night watch, leaving their charges exposed to all manner of nocturnal threats.
It is rare to find any bastion of safety outside the city-states or the fortress-warehouses along trade routes. Perhaps that is why the Mahin’drazal has lured in as many victims as it has; respite is such a welcome sight to weary and strained travelers that they fail to see the warning signs.
The Mahin’drazal appears to be a modest-sized, well-fortified roadhouse. When travelers approach it, they must stop at a bone gate attached to a defensive palisade made of sharpened wooden posts. There, mute human guards inspect the travelers and their animals and carts, then wave them through to the inner courtyard, where animals and goods can be safely housed.
From there, the inviting warmth of the roadhouse beckons. The building is a single story, and appears to be made of mud bricks with clay shingles for a roof. Light spills out the narrow windows at nighttime, and music fills the area at all hours.
More mute human guards stand watch around the exterior of the roadhouse while several archers sit or crouch on the roof, bows at the ready. The entire area around the roadhouse is defended well. It appears as though the owner has no illusions about the relative safety of her establishment. To travelers who have spent days on the ragged edge of self-defense along the desolate trade routes, a place such as this is a welcome haven.
Inside, travelers find a cadre of mute servants ready to cater to their every need. Music, food, and drink can be had in the common area. Private rooms with comfortable beds are located in the rear. A section of bath chambers and smoke rooms has been set aside for those willing to pay a premium.
The mute servants will cater to any request they can accommodate. The only person in the roadhouse who speaks is the proprietor, Zindriel, a beautiful female who is seldom overdressed. Slightly pointed ears give Zindriel an elven appearance, but her ethnicity is hard to pinpoint. She shrewdly negotiates the cost of every stay, with prices depending on the number of animals and wagons in the caravan and the perceived value of the caravan’s cargo. When negotiations are complete, she plies travelers with everything from broy (for the common folk) to wine (for wealthy merchants).