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The Arid Flats is located directly to the South East of the Goblin City and is characterized by its desolate desert like atmosphere and mountainous piles of Junk. It is largely considered the territory of the mysterious and nomadic Junk People who regularly traverse its surface sorting through the piles of junk in a futile search for their lost ???pretties'. Beware. It is rumored that people who travel uninvited into the Arid Flats have been known to disappear or lose their memory causing unsuspecting victims to wander lost and aimless forevermore.
In the past the Arid Flats were largely considered an outer defense of the Goblin City however in recent years the desert has undergone new occupation. It is now the self proclaimed providence of the Dark Sorceress Ariadne. Who seems intent upon making life as difficult as possible for the Goblin King and the other Denizens of the Labyrinth.
On the surface the Arid Flats seem desolate and barren, full up with mountains of junk and enormous boulders. Fires and strange unexplained explosions often occur here. The bulk of the make shift domain of the Junk People is largely underground and deceptively burrowed into the hearts of the larger accumulations of trash. There is believed to be a vast system of underground tunnels, not unlike that of a rabbit warren, that connect to the greater tunnels of the Labyrinth as well as the many oubliettes, however in recent years Jareth as made sure that many of these passages have been closed off for security purposes.
The individual dwellings of the Junk People are formulated much like rat nests. Each individual Junk-person is responsible for his or her own lodgings and the Junk People in general are highly solitary creatures that often compete against their own kind for resources and space.
It is hard to say who or what the Junk People actually are, although, it has been speculated by outsiders that the Junk People are a particular kind of goblin. While an excellent theory the Junk People do not seem to have the same connection the the Goblin King that the goblins in the the city do; leading other more educated types to speculate that the Junk people are in fact a large grouping of dwarves that for one reason or another have befallen some terrible enchantment causing them to wander the Arid Flats aimlessly in pursuit of their precious ???pretties' long since lost to them.
A desperate pray in the crushing silence of the emptiness that swallowed up everything. All except Faen. A moment of weakness had struck him. The faces of the three men Faen murdered without hesitation were not eager to let the dark souled killer go on without some doubt. And it was squeezing in his chest. Sometimes the guilt came after he killed. Another drawback to being a child of two sides of the coin. It was disgusting.
Alone, his mind raced and thought of the unspeakable. The light was becoming stronger but still not nearly enough to snuff out the dark. A soothing thing to take note of. Yet it was there and hungry to encompass the mind, body, and soul. What eternal suffering. Faen had not done enough to feed the darkness, the darkness that he loved and understood. There was a certain kind of safety of knowing what exactly was inside of oneself.
Recovering from his panic, all insecurity was placed back into the deep pit that Faen had created when he was a child. In that abyss was memories of goblins and the face of a beautiful princess, someone he knew he might never meet in his lifetime. His lifetime was immortal. He slipped back into the underground, appearing on the Arid Flats, the portal delivering right where he wanted to be. In the distance, he saw fires. Fires meant long, long shadows. A smile crept on to his lips, years washing away from his face. A child on Christmas Day.
Feet made no sign. Eyes kept steady. It was not long before he came upon smells and sounds of familiar creatures. They triggered memories which only made his rage flare for a moment. A personality flaw. No one is perfect. Not even Faen Diavolos.
There was no point in delaying what he wanted. A great fan of instant gratification, he wasted no time getting the attention of one the lumpy things nearby. Faen didn't learn the name of the ones who walked through garbage. He just knew they were unpleasant, like vermin and splinters. But still he bowed remembering they were subjects, not just waste of the cosmos.
"I hear you have a new ruler. A woman that goes by Ariande. I would like to request an audience with her," he said, that odd smile plastered on his visage. Being so polite to things so beneath him made his stomach ache.
The little toad, as they looked like toads to him, hurried off. Apparently Faen was expected. How strange. Thinking back, he didn't exactly aim for the hearts of the two Junk People who wished to attack the thieves. Another note to make. Always go for the vitals. No more games. He wanted his arrival to be a surprise, catch the woman off guard. Next time, he had to use the shadows to deliver himself right into the witch's chambers.
As he waited, he sat down on a large boulder that looked somewhat like a head and polished his rapier.