The Red Desert

The Red Desert sprawls across the south and west of Volcor, a wide, merciless expanse where thirst kills as often as any predator. Here and there, sandstone arches rise like the hollow eyes of gigantic needles, carved by the relentless winds. Mirages flare with whatever a traveler most wants to see, always just beyond reach.

Beneath the sand, dangers lurk. Primordial lava flows carved the bedrock into deep canyons and sheer crevices, melting sand into shards of the blackest glass. A single careless step can drop a person through a concealed shimmer into an oblivion of obsidian.

The clans who call this place home learn early that sight is the least trustworthy sense. The Cintari say a survivor must close their eyes to the desert's many illusions, and instead listen and inhale. Only then will the desert share its treacherous truths. When caravans vanish, the clans leave offerings to ancient spirits, and even the bravest move quietly across the dunes, for fear of desert predators hiding in the lee of ridges and arches. Giant drift stingers, concealed by sand and cave, lie in wait, anticipating the rich scents of panic and blood.

Even so, the Red Desert expresses a fearsome beauty. At night, one may lie in awe beneath the stars with cool sand at their back, in a silence so complete it feels alive. By day, one may watch in awe as the mighty haboob churn the sands. Locals say the storms carry centuries of aetheric memory left by Infernai, and that the swirling grit takes shape as dust dragons, coiling along the storm's edge as they hunt the Aesir's ancient prey.