Once, a Fakir saved the daughter of a Caliph from drowning when she fell from the royal barge. The Caliph offered him anything his heart desired. The Fakir, replied "Grant me a bed of nails I don't have to carry to the market place." Taken aback, the Caliph did as he wished-- his most sage magicians imbued a thousand nails with magic so that, however scattered, they would fall into perfect lines, balanced on their heads. And with a single magic word they word fly back into a bundle tied with a golden ribbon.
Centuries later, the Fakir's Bed, is just a few hundred rusted nails bundled with a dirty linen strap. A local rogue is said to possess the bed, and throw it out behind her when she flees the guard. Late at night, you might hear her call the nails back to her by singing out the magic word.