Maramba was by no means a large town; its population was only one-eighth that of its Red Moon sister, Nasrad, and it passed only a minor trade route in the grand scheme of things. Its location was not ideal; ships coming from or going to Sailor's Island needed fortified hulls to pass through the stone reef the lined the city to the west, and the land mass on which it had been settled was a mere stretch of arid desert.
The perfect place to search for lost wonders and new discoveries.
Black ponytail whipping against his face in the dry wind, world-famous treasure hunter Domingo gazed unblinkingly through a magnificent spyglass, perusing the rocky outcrops at the eastern edge of Maramba's ovular-shaped island. For nearly a week he had searched for the phenomenon that people called the 'Perfect Balance', and that path had led him here to the desolate deserts of Nasr, where most people dared not go because of the severe heat. He had been maneuvering around the steep expanses of sedimentary rock for nearly three hours in his personal one-man skiff, the Seeker, and the sun had just passed its peak in the sky.
He had hunted priceless items for nearly five years before the business lost its appeal, and upon mistakenly stumbling across the long sought-after Pirate's Grave south of Shrine Island Domingo had found his newest love - scouring Arcadia for places and occurrences that were rare or forgotten. He boasted a fine collection of discoveries under his belt after only two months of dedication - in addition to the Pirate's Grave he had found the Island of Colors, the Wandering Lake, the Guidestones, and the Travelers' Paradise. The last had actually saved his life, for charismatic Domingo had wandered about the desert far too long and would have died of thirst had the Travelers' Paradise not turned out to be a hidden oasis.
The only clue he had to locating the Perfect Balance was a very vague comment offered to him from a guildmaster on Sailor's Island. It was, without a doubt, located on the very same land mass on which Maramba lay nestled, though precisely where no one had ever found out.
Lost in his musings, Domingo almost didn't see the trio of unnaturally-smooth rocks swaying unsteadily in the wind, and his right eye snapped open a little wider as he stared through the spyglass. Although the rocks were obviously precariously stacked, they did not topple when the wind assaulted them. It was far too peculiar to be dismissed as mere coincidence; with glee the treasure hunter whisked a sheet of parchment from his orange jacket and began sketching the sight with a practiced eye.
Another successful discovery, made by the most dedicated in the unpredictable business. Domingo silently congratulated himself, then turned the skiff around and made for distant Maramba. His little skiff was just small enough to pass right through the imposing stone reef that separated Maramba from Sailor's Island, and after a good night's rest he would return to celebrate his good fortune.
After collecting the gold due to him for his new discovery, of course.