The Bedouin

Mercenary man of Arab nationality, real name Haamid el-Saba. Early 50's, tall, lean build. Large scar across left cheek. Dresses in the manner befitting his name, with white and tan robes. Always carries a large carbine slung over his shoulder, as well as two pistols, a large knife, grenades, and other equipment.

A native of the area of the Ottoman Empire known as Palestine, Haamid grew up resenting Turkish control of his homeland. Was heavily involved in Arab liberation movements and groups, and during the Weltkrieg worked closely with Lawrence of Arabia, with whom he forged a close friendship. When these endeavors failed, he later turned to growing local syndicalist movements that were in part fomented by the Third Internationale. Now he works exclusively with them, believing that with their assistance he has his best hope of achieving his goals of national liberation and sovereignty for the areas of the middle east occupied by the Ottomans.

Oversees the operations of weapons smuggling for his group, primarily working to funnel heavy weaponry into countries such as Egypt and Somalia. In this capacity he works closely with Klaus Linden.

A few years ago he met a young man named Ziyaad, who had begun working for syndicalist causes in his home country. Haamid was sympathetic to the youths passion and fervor, and became his mentor, training young Ziyaad in combat and desert survival techniques.

A legend to the natives of the Middle east, Haamid is known to be a nearly mythical fighter in the desert, with the ability to whip up sand storms the in areas in which he finds himself. He frequently does this to disorient his foes while he seeks cover and tries to sense his enemies footsteps through the shifting sands.

Killed on April 8th, 1935.

Appears in Session 4 (mentioned), Session 5.

Quotes: ''You approach the burnt and dying form of the man known as the Bedouin. He regards you with once powerful eyes that are beginning to fade into death. 'It seems... God is no longer... with me, my friends. You are good warriors indeed, worthy of a place in legend. Remember that legends are always lonely. Lonely people, in lonely places.' He looks at Jabril. 'You, Jabril. I am sorry for the tragedy God has seen fit to bestow on you. Remember that God is great, but he tests us, always. Your brother was a great man, young, and full of fire. He always resented that God took you from him, and when I met him he thought of me as Gods way of repaying him for his faith. He wanted very much to be like you, and took up my cause as if it was his own...' He is silent for a moment. 'He gave me this, the other day, and told me to decide whether or not to give it to you, in case you truly were his brother. I have not read it. Here, take it, it is yours now.' He hands you a small singed envelope. 'Your brother eventually saw me for the truth that I was, beyond the legend. But he was always enamored by it, drawn to it. He believed in the legend so much that he wished to become a legend in his own right. God is great, my friends. Pray to God that he sees fit to ensure no more young men dream to become legends of war. There is no worse legend to be... than... a legend... of war...'