The Castle Oasis was the center of their power, a standalone constant in the seas of sand. It stood for all that the Nydewians had to become, steps toward their future and civilization. How he loathed it.<br/><br/>King Haidar of the Rampage, the first of his name, sat in the throne in the castle's audience chamber as he held court. The chamber was walled with yellow stone, many tattered banners taken from raids lining the walls. Leading to the platform in the rear where the throne stood was a rich violet carpet that stretched to the entryway, lined on each side with columns fashioned into the heroes and King's of old. Behind the ivory throne stood Haidar's own statue, trident raised as his horse reared. The enormous man had already heard a half-hundred minor issues from a half-hundred peasants, but still it would go on, and though he hated these duties, he saw to them to the best of his ability.<br/><br/>As always, he was dressed in battle regalia; ringmail-and-leather armor that showed the tattoos on his arms, with his trademark black falchion slung over his shoulder and a dagger and handle belted on his hips. The King had forced himself to remain in the castle for weeks, biting back his desire to ride the dunes and raid into Aserit. Haidar had to wait. Theiri would be desperate soon, and he needed to be at the castle to receive their messenger.<br/><br/>So the horselord bided his time and passed his judgments on the trivial tribulations of lesser men.