155 rooms · levels 40–50
Forested, snow-capped peaks stretch away from this grassy knoll as far as the eye can see. Unfortunately, the peaks are just exquisitely detailed murals painted on the walls, and the grass grows an inch under an invisible force field. A desk sits at the top of the knoll, and on it a color LCD laptop whirrs quietly. A portable printer stands ready next to the computer, and a chair and stacks of paper await Jacinth's attention. A green marble rod inlaid with gold and platinum and topped with a sparkling blue sapphire lies next to the computer.
A small path leads north and south. Pines and oaks provide a dappled shade that is both cool and refreshing. Faint noises of birds chirping, squirrels scampering and scolding, and hawks screeching in the distance pervade the air.
A wide patch of tumbled earth stretches across the path. Gophers, no doubt. It is clearly impossible to cross the earth without stepping on it, but no footprints are visible. Either no one has come this way in some time, or the gophers here are very fast workers.
A small path leads south from this overgrown clearing. An old rusted iron gate stands to the north. A metal sign lies crumpled beneath the gate. Whoever put the gate here seems to have forgotten about it; it isn't even locked. On the far side of the gate is an overgrown walkway.
The shrubbery here is so thick it nearly conceals the granite flagstones. Vines dangle at head-height and sprawling roots threaten to trip up the unwary traveller.
A single black spire juts above the trees to the north. Perhaps it was some wizard's tower in ages past. It probably doesn't have anything useful in it, but it seems more interesting than the tangled mass of vegetation that has grown around the southward path.
A tall dark spire towers at least a hundred feet over this small clearing. Two guards stand in front of the tower door, protecting it from those few who might wander this way. A gleaming sign of solid steel is planted in the center of the clearing and a small shed lies to the east.
This small shed is a mess. Clothes, food, books, weapons, armor, and a host of other items are scrambled randomly on the floor. A keg of ale in the far corner looks very well cared for, however.
The stone walls of the tower are very thick indeed. In fact, they are so thick that it's surprising that there's any room inside the tower at all. Engraved into the floor is the message, "I *ROCK* the UNIVERSE!!"
This room is circular and about fifteen feet across. A spiral staircase wraps around the edge of the room, leading both upwards and downwards. All of the walls are adorned with smashed portraits. Whoever lives here must have recently developed a hatred for paintings.
At one point this room was filled with trophies for athletic and magical achievements. Now it is filled with cracked shelves, twisted pieces of wood, and pottery shards. However, there seem to be no metal trophies in the room.
This must have once been a study; otherwise there is no way to explain the shredded pieces of paper with fragments of wizardly writing on them. There were originally six iron torch-holders set into the walls, but all save one has been ripped out of the stone.
This room is decidedly creepy. A thin layer of ash lies on the floor and a gray haze permeates the air. Large windows look out over the surrounding forest but they are covered with a thick layer of grime which makes it nearly impossible to see out. An engraving in the south wall claims that this is the living room. No furniture remains standing in the room, and...wait? Was that something moving in the haze?
This room is small and dark as all good basements should be. However, this basement is mostly empty. There are a couple of blanket-like rags lying on the floor indicating that this may have been used for a sleeping area recently.
Well, what do you want me to say? Broken glass, wood splinters, torn books, bones, and other items best placed in a garbage can are piled in a heap in the back of the room. The heap nearly reaches to the ceiling, but the pile probably isn't unstable...yet.
In the southeastern corner of this room lies a body in wizard robes. From the twisted limbs and smashed skull, it appears that the person was pounded to death by huge fists. To the north there is a misty portal. Something seems to be wrong with the portal, but you can't quite figure out what it is.
Wow, something's wrong here! A rectangle in the western wall writhes with scintillating colors. It flashes golden-green and the whole _room_ blurs. Whatever magic was used here is broken now, and could be quite dangerous.
There used to be a lot of food stored in this magically cooled room. Now about half of the food is missing and the other half is on the floor. There are jars and cheeses and salted meats remaining, but no cans.
Fire! Argg, roasting, burning freezing! You feel numb, on fire, and freezing all at the same time. Something is definitely wrong with the portal! You'd better get out of here quick!
In the southern wall of this dark but very warm cave there is a misty portal, but what is more interesting is the red glow and the heat coming from the cave opening to the east. The temperature and color are just right for an underground lava river, but the air is dry and there is no trace of sulfur.
This doesn't look like Kansas--er, Daleville--any more. The dark cave to the west could be anywhere, but to the north you see the bottom of a narrow chasm of rock. The red sandstone is jagged and cracked and you can see a few small twisted, spine-covered trees. But if that isn't enough, the sunlight is very obviously red-hued. Only a desert chasm could possibly be this warm.
Huge walls of cracked sandstone rise impossibly far into the sky. A giant red sun burns in the sky overhead, sucking moisture out of everything that lives. The walls look about ready to collapse in a massive avalanche. Something moves in a cave halfway up the chasm, but all that falls is a pebble and a little orange dust. Footprints litter the dust-covered ground. The chasm runs east and west and there is a cave entrance to the south.
At this point, the chasm twists sharply; one branch leads north and the other leads east. The heat could put an oven to shame, and no traveller could hope to survive for long without plenty of water. A cave to the southeast looks a little cooler.
The crevasse splits here; small branches lead north and west, while a larger path leads south. Many footprints lead north but only a few lead west. Most of the footprints seem to belong to gith. Now the question is, is it safer to the west, or is there something that way that the gith are afraid of?
Scraps of leather and shards of pottery lie on the ground here, signifying the edge of the gith's area of the chasm. The gith aren't too particular about security, since not many creatures can stand their company. Waves of hot air roll in from the north.
Only gith could hope to survive here for long. The sandstone walls are a deep red and the huge sun heats them to incredible temperatures. The air temperature is easily 150 degrees, and the ground is hot enough to burn exposed flesh. The chasm winds both north and south.
The gith use this four-way intersection to store trash. It isn't clear where the trash goes after being placed here, and considering the size of the pile, maybe it doesn't go anywhere. Unfortunately, gith are very particular about what they throw away. The most useful item in the pile seems to be a broken leather strap.
The walls of the chasm have collapsed here into a huge mass of rock fragments that closes it off completely. Spears of rock dozens of yards long lie jumbled together with more ordinary boulders. A wiry vine with tiny feathery leaves, pale bark, and large razor-sharp spines winds its way throughout the rubble. The only way on is back south to the gith's intersection.
The ravine narrows to the east until it closes over into a cave. A crude sign has been carved into the wall, but it is written in the gith tongue and you are unable to understand it. Guards of any kind are conspicuously absent. Perhaps gith believe that individuals should rely on their own awareness to survive, or maybe they're just too lazy to post guards.
This cave is unmistakably inhabited by gith. Little trinkets litter the floor of the cave, along with more useful items such as short cords, scuffed leather caps, and small plates of black chitin.
A pile of metal trophies stands in one corner of this cave. Most of the trophies have been bent out of shape, but the gith seem to value them anyway since they are kept in a much neater pile than are their other possessions.
Five iron torch-holders lie in a recess in the southern wall of this cave. Below the recess the gith have stacked a pile of iron cans. Gith certainly aren't craftsmen or artists, so it's anybody's guess what they want the cans for.
This large cave is where the young gith are raised. The floor is relatively bare except for assorted bones and rocks. The gith children use these items as toys--that is, to hit each other with. The female gith watch the children closely, stepping in whenever it seems that someone might be killed. The cave stretches to the north and east.
Gith children use this section of the cave for jumping practice. Lines crisscross the floor, marking their achievements. Some of the gith seem to be able to jump nearly twenty feet. Brawls break out between the children as they argue over whether they took too many steps before jumping or stepped on the jumping line instead of before it.
This section of the cave is used as a workshop by the gith. A few especially clever gith use this area to piece together chitin armor and make obsidian spears. Children are encouraged to watch, since it keeps them from being too destructive.
The southern cave wall is pitted and dented from a game the gith children play. Children take turns throwing rocks at the wall and catching them as they bounce off. The game is very noisy and showers the cave floor with chips of rock, but no one seems to care.
This small cave is supposed to belong to the gith chieftain. In reality it is used to store the tribe's spare food and water. Dried strips of flesh hang from bone racks and huge ceramic urns contain a foul-smelling liquid. No gith would ever dare steal any of the food for fear of angering the gith chieftain. A very narrow crack leads south.
There are surprisingly few footprints visible in the dusty floor of the ravine, and nearly all of them come in from the east, turn around, and come back the way they came. The footprints that continue straight through appear to be human, or at least not gith or monstrous. A small spiky bush with tiny crimson flowers partially blocks the path to the west.
A powerful psionic aura pervades the air between the two rock cliffs. It seems as if the rock itself is alive and watching those who would pass by. It must be very selective, for there are only a handful of footprints on the ground.
This section of the chasm seems quiet and peaceful. Small bushes dot the floor of the chasm and amazingly, they appear to have been pruned. The chasm bends sharply here, and a faint, cool breeze wafts in from the north.
The ravine ends in a tumbled pile of stones that stretch up towards the cliff tops. Several large, black, ant-like creatures the size of ponies are being held in a small pen. One is wearing a leather contraption that could be a saddle. Though the ant-creatures would have trouble, it may be possible for a humanoid to climb up the rubble to the west. On the other hand, there's no telling what dangers might lurk in the crevasses between the large boulders.
Tumbled boulders of red sandstone climb steeply upward from the end of the ravine. There seems to be a path of sorts winding through them; in one place strange rock handles sprout out of a difficult-to-climb boulder, leading up. The heat is not quite as stifling here, as a cool breeze flows down from the boulders above. The ravine floor is back to the east.
The tumbled boulders lead from the top of the ravine walls to the west downwards to the ravine floor. The ravine floor looks hot and unpleasant compared to here, where a cool breeze blows from the west. Or maybe the breeze isn't actually cool; it's just not as warm as everything else.
The ground here is very unstable. Westward the plateau ends in a sheer drop of hundreds of feet to a ravine floor, while east of here a field of boulders leads down to a second ravine. The precipice is high enough to give a panoramic view: north and west there are canyons and mountains as far as the eye can see, and southward lies an endless plain studded with boulders and rocks of all sizes. Very far off in the southeast a white haze rises from the ground, and far in the southwest the rocky desert gives way to scrub desert. (Yay!) A sign has been carved into the rock beside the path north.
The villichi covenant lies amongst acacia-like trees to the north. The surroundings seem peaceful and safe, a rarity in this harsh desert. The villichi must have great power or be guarded by some mighty being; otherwise, the lush plateau they occupy would be overtaken by some more violent race. The most striking thing about the community of huts to the north is that all villichi seem to be women. For those who find tranquillity sickening, a precipice to the south offers a path to the floor of a ravine.
A wide path runs north and south through the covenant with grass huts on either side. Villichi women, who appear to be no more than human women with pale skin, chat and work and train throughout the community. There are even a number of children in the community, but not a single male.
Several mattresses covered with fine cloth sheets occupy one half of the hut. The other half is taken up by a small wood stove and shelves containing food, water, clothing, and other necessities. There does not appear to be anything valuable in the hut.
A large and a small mattress are placed against the northern wall of this hut. A small wood stove and a pile of firewood stand against the western wall, while books, clothes, and food sit on shelves along the southern one. A bouquet of spiny but sweet-smelling flowers sits in a small green vase on a shelf by the small mattress. The path under the acacias is just outside, east.
Two paths cross here. The north-south one is larger, but the east-west one looks more heavily used. A small signpost has been placed at the edge of the path for the benefit of visitors. A small lizard with golden and red scales watches the goings on in the covenant from the top of the sign.
The grove of acacias ends here, leading to fields of grain and vegetables to the east. The villichi constantly pass back and forth carrying water to the fields and food from them. The women all wear cloaks to protect their sensitive skin from the sun.
The heat in the fields is almost as bad as in the ravines; the red sun wilts the plants and cracks the ground with its powerful rays. But the villichi gardens are quite lush despite the heat.
Squash, beans, yams, corn, and several unrecognizable vegetables grow here. The plants are covered with a fine layer of dust, but they seem quite happy nonetheless. Each plant is in its own small basin so that none of the water placed on it can run away.
Rye, barley, oats, and wheat grow here, along with several unusual millet-like grains. There is even a tiny plot of rice about two feet square. Planting the field must have been a major undertaking for all of the plants grow at the bottom of three-inch-wide grooves carefully dug into the soil. The villichi treat their grains almost as if they were vegetables, and the seed-heavy stalks are their reward.
Anyone who wants to plant their own small garden can come here. A dozen small plots contain everything from hot peppers to boysenberries to delicate flowers. A prickly pear cactus grows near the back, threatening to crowd out a small golden berry bush.
This east-west path lies in the dappled shade of the acacia-like trees that cover the villichi settlement. A four-foot-wide trunk beside the path is surrounded by a shallow trench to hold water. It must be quite an undertaking to water all the trees in the grove, but the trees seem to like it, and the villichi are grateful for the shade.
The acacia grove ends suddenly to the west at a small pool. These women must be more powerful than they appear to possess such a treasure in this desert environment. The pool is quite clear, but even so it is not possible to see the bottom of the red sandstone basin that it fills. To the south, a warm breeze blows from a cave that leads into the rock. Most of the villichi live in huts to the north. It is strange that the villichi would choose to live in small huts when they all appear intelligent and capable, not to mention unusually attractive.
The air in this small cave is decidedly cooler than that outside; in fact it is almost chilly. Crates of vegetables and bags of grain are stored here, where they have a better chance of not spoiling. A strange but peaceful intelligence permeates the room, keeping out vermin and cooling the air by force of will.
A pool of water is a treasure beyond belief in a desert, yet there is one right here, owned by a community of peaceful women in the middle of a desert full of violent creatures. In the northern wall, the red sandstone has been molded into the rungs of a ladder that lead upwards to a small ledge. A deep green tree with fiery red flowers hangs over the pool from the ledge above.
This small ledge belongs to Erinelle, daughter of Tilerra. Though she is only sixteen, she must already be among the most influential of the villichi to deserve such a wonderful spot. A tree with flame-colored flowers reaches over the ledge, and a number of small spiny bushes produce flowers and fruits of differing colors and scents. An open hut contains a levitating mattress and an enormous collection of books. Many of the titles contain mystical runes; perhaps Erinelle studies magic?
All around here the villichi have small huts where they rest and cook and eat. A number of the huts are set back farther to the west, but there is no reason to tromp off the path to visit them since nothing interesting happens in them anyway.
Four mattresses lie on the floor of this hut, barely leaving room for a tiny stove and a couple of shelves of possessions. About the most interesting thing in the room are the sheets on the mattresses; they are made of very fine cloth and are decorated with abstract patterns of brown, gold, and blue.
A gentle resonant humming fills this hut; the source is three small beetles in a cage hanging from the ceiling. A flute and sheet music sits on a small desk along with a tall stack of books. The hut has no stove and only one mattress.
The path under the acacias ends here in the middle of the villichi huts. Small personal huts lie to the east and west while a larger hut stands to the north. The path leads south through the villichi community.
This hut contains room for three people to sleep. The beds and shelves are covered with a fine layer of dust, though. Perhaps these villichi are on a journey.
Strings of tiny beads hang from the ceiling of this hut. They reach down to about six feet from the floor. A line of crystal glasses half filled with yellow powder runs down the center of the room. Maybe there is some reason for the weird furnishings, or maybe the two villichi who live here are just a little mad.
This large grass hut is devoted to weaving, dyeing, and making clothes. Towers of cotton from earlier crops fill the western wall, and the eastern wall contains stacks of finished cloth. The center of the room is filled with looms, vats of dye, spinning wheels, among other things. The villichi who work here seem quite content, though they appear to be talking more than working.
A wide path runs in from the south, then turns sharply east and skirts a grass-thatched hall. Sounds of battle echo from within the building. The sound of metal clashing, so common in most training areas, is conspicuously absent here.
This long hall is used constantly. The villichi are well aware that they live in a hostile environment and need to be able to defend themselves. Instruction in armed and unarmed combat, classes on survival skills, strength training, and aerobics all take place here. Surprisingly, the air doesn't smell foul at all.
The grove of acacia trees comes to an end here; to the north, one last, grand tree stretches far above the others. To the east and south are large buildings, and a wide path stretches west.
Puzzles, paradoxes, and optical illusions adorn the walls and a dizzying multicolored pattern covers the floor. Soft flute music seems to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once. The hall is otherwise empty; this is a place to train the mind, and the teachers here have little use for material objects.
A huge hardwood table fills the room, surrounded by at least four dozen chairs. The polished surface of the table looks almost like a mirror. No one has ever smashed a glass to the table in anger, nor has a fight ever erupted in this room. The hall is a place to give and receive counsel, not to settle old debts.
To the north, a mighty acacia tree reaches into the sky and fans its branches over the ground. The tree's branches provide shade even here, fifty feet from the trunk. The canopy of the tree is easily a hundred feet above the ground, and in the canopy near the trunk is a rather large treehouse. To the south is a grove of acacias and the community of the villichi.
The grand acacia's trunk is eight feet across and armored by a deep gray bark. Branches stretch impossibly far into the air, providing a pleasant dappled shade. Small branches are bent into ladder rungs that lead up to a house built just below the canopy. The villichi community is visible to the south, while to the north the plateau ends in a red sandstone wall.
A sense of life and renewal saturates the air here; well-being seems almost to drip from the air. The high mistress of the covenant lives here in a pleasant but simple hut. In most respects, the hut is no different from that of the other villichi, except that Tilerra has her house to herself. From this vantage point, a tree with flame-red flowers is visible over the tops of the acacia grove. It seems almost as if there is a spiritual connection between the two trees. A vase on a small desk contains a bouquet of the flowers.
Curious, a small tunnel leads into the wall to the east. It looks a lot cooler in the tunnel than here, where the sun has baked the wall hot enough to fry eggs. It also looks a lot cooler to the south, under a mighty acacia tree.
A spiraling staircase has been carved out of the rock, leading upwards to some unknown destination. Excavating a tunnel through solid rock in this heat must have been very unpleasant. The workmanship is marvelous; the tunnel appears to be almost a perfect cylinder, and the steps are of even length and height. Even a dwarf would be proud of such a construction.
A staircase spirals downwards through the sandstone, while to the west an archway leads onto a tiny ledge. A note is scratched into a piece of slate stuck to the northern wall.
A marble fountain stands in the center of this small ledge. The edge of the fountain is carved with small dragons and beautiful maidens, all spewing thin streams of water from their mouths. An engraving in the northern wall depicts a slender dragon feeding doves. Beneath the engraving is a small golden plaque covered with tiny writing. The open side of the ledge looks out over the villichi covenant far below; the archway back into the staircase is east.
The chasm floor is covered with huge splinters of rock and the walls look as if they've been attacked by a clan of giants. Caves and crevices are everywhere, providing the perfect environment for ambushers, but the ravine seems strangely silent.
Piles of rubble litter the ground and the walls on either side seem ready to give way. Jagged pieces of brownish chitin stick out from under one huge boulder where some giant insect met its fate.
The ground here is one big pool of melted glass. The walls of the chasm look like wax crayons melted in the sun. The devastation stretches up nearly forty feet, beyond which the sandstone is stained with black soot.
Huge claw marks score the ground here. To the north is the mouth of a cave, but instead of being a cool retreat from the blazing sun, the opening radiates heat. No vegetation of any kind grows here.
The walls of this cave are scored with huge claw-marks in places; in other places, the walls have been turned to glassy rivers that have solidified in pools on the floor. A few large bones lie haphazardly on the floor, and on one wall there is a silhouette of a man outlined in black ash.
The towering sandstone cliffs draw close here, so close that a gith could jump from one cliff top to the other. The walls open up a little to the west and much more to the east. A series of tiny stone walkways pass between the rock faces several hundred feet up.
The ground here is littered with tiny pellets of stone. The pellets are about the size of peas, and they are composed of a deep gray granite. It's a welcome change from the endless walls of red sandstone, but walking on the pellets is pretty noisy.
At this point, the canyon splits. Branches run to the north and west, while to the south the canyon dies away to be replaced by a boulder-studded plain.
There was a battle here recently. Pieces from several B'rohg corpses are scattered on the ground. The eastern wall has been splintered in several places. The imprint of a human fist marks the western wall; it was probably made by a woman or child, given the size. The canyon runs north and south.
The canyon is choked with crumbled stone just past this point. There are some small passages between the fallen rock, but they are too small for most creatures to pass through. Before the collapse, the cliff walls are shattered and blackened, and a small shrub growing on the wall now hangs in splinters. A small cave opens in the eastern wall, and the canyon floor runs back south.
The cave itself is nondescript; it is merely an open space where there fails to be any rock. West, the bottom of a canyon is visible through the cave mouth, while a narrow passage winds away north into the dark.
Well, the passage is narrow. And it winds around a lot. It winds around so much, in fact, that it has tied itself in a knot right here: tunnels squirm off south toward a small cave, east into a wider shaft, and north into a crack so tight that only one creature at a time could squeeze through it. Footprints of gith go in and out of the crack.
A narrow crack passes through the stone here. It's really too narrow to get a good look around, but there are exits to the north and south.
A natural tunnel leads through the red sandstone. The tunnel is quite narrow, and it doesn't seem to stop. Did I mention that it winds around a lot? In particular, one branch winds down and another winds up. Or is it that the passage leads up and down, and one branch leads west, back into the knot?
Well, the passage is narrow. And it winds around a lot. Having wound its way up from below, it now winds off west, and it seems to be winding toward fresh air: a faint draft blows from that way.
Well, the passage is narrow. And it winds around a lot. Here it winds from east to south, and from the south comes daylight, reddish and hot, filtered through something full of holes.
The floor of the tunnel here is perforated by one-foot holes, and through them the narrow canyon is visible far below. Tiny stone walkways lead from this side of the canyon to the other, but only tiny creatures could use them. The tunnel goes back north, and a scooped-out chamber opens to the east.
It looks like someone has gone mad with a tiny ice-cream scoop! The walls are absolutely covered in tiny scoop marks. At the edges of the scoops, the red sandstone takes on a grayish hue. A small pile of granite pellets lies on the floor; a small hole in the floor opens onto the air over the canyon, and provides a convenient place to dump the stones when the pile gets too big. The only way out is the tunnel west.
Well, the tunnel is narrow. And it winds around a lot. It winds up into a shaft, and it winds west, under the chasm, for what looks like a very, very long way.
Well, the tunnel is narrow. And it winds around a lot. And it seems to continue in both directions, east and west. Still. The walls sweat a little from the weight of rock overhead.
Well, the tunnel is narrow. And it winds around a lot. After its long way west it finally turns north, and a whiff of something green, like growing grain, drifts down it.
A long, boring-looking sandstone tunnel twists through the rock to the south. A narrow crevasse leads upwards to the sunshine. Vegetation, perhaps stalks of grain, lean over and partially cover the mouth of the crevasse. From above, it is probably very difficult to see through the vegetation to find the way down here.
A giant skeleton lies at the edge of the canyon here. It looks like it once belonged to a giant, stocky lizard. Every shred of flesh has been removed, and many of the small bones have been gnawed away. A shell like a turtle's, only rougher and lizard-shaped, lies nearby. It must have taken quite a predator to fell this mighty beast. The canyon walls fall sharply just past the skeleton, leading onto a wide, barren desert plain.
Large sheets of orange-red sandstone stretch endlessly to the south and east. Large boulders and small pebbles litter the burning wastes. In places, drifts of red soil have collected and there are a few cacti can be found. Otherwise, the terrain looks hostile and lifeless. To the north, a wide canyon leads into a series of ravines that carve into the foothills of a mountain range.
Loose rocks and shifting gravel make the footing here treacherous. The boulder-littered sheets of rock seem to stretch in every direction save the west, where a steep rock face marks the edge of a mountain range.
A sheet of orange-red sandstone stretches away from this point, broken only by a few large boulders. The huge red sun burns down relentlessly; the only shelter is the meager shade of the boulders. A crack in the rock has caught a little red soil, and a lone barrel cactus grows from it. The barrens go on north and west.
The plain of sandstone shimmers with heat. Rocks of every size lie scattered about, as if a giant had emptied his pockets here. In the distance a rock face marks the edge of the mountains, and a canyon mouth opens in them. The barrens stretch west and south, and further east a faint path can be seen.
A boulder-littered sheet of orange-red sandstone stretches away in every direction. Small, loose rocks make the footing unstable, and the only shelter from the huge red sun is the tiny patches of shade created by some of the larger boulders. A small path is just visible to the east.
This narrow path runs parallel to a north-south mountain range to the west. It is easy to leave the path, but there is no reason to except to investigate a canyon that leads into the mountains.
Sandstone desert stretches to the south seemingly forever. Only a highly experienced desert traveller with plenty of water should attempt a journey southwards, for while a path may make the ground easy to walk upon, there is still no shelter from the intense heat of the sun.
Only natives of this world can hope to survive here for long; the sun beats down relentlessly on the sandstone bedrock. It would be foolish to travel farther south, for the path continues south for many dozens of miles and only the most experienced desert traveller could possibly survive.
A hot dry wind whips up, sucking all traces of moisture from your skin. Your head pounds and the world seems to spin before you. Despite your best efforts, you succumb to the harsh conditions and lose consciousness. It is only minutes before scavengers find your body, and they never give you a chance to wake up.
A lone path winds its way through the vast desert rock flats, weaving between the larger boulders and sparse cacti strewn across the plain. If only it smelled like sulfur, this place would surely be Hell. A cricket chirps happily from the safety of a crack in a boulder. Perhaps not all creatures think things are so bad here.
The path splits here; the main branch runs north while a small offshoot, barely distinct from the stony ground, runs east. To the east, there is no visible life, no ants, no cacti, no crickets. A thin layer of gray ash coats the ground in places.
Deserts are normally barren, but this place is lifeless. Except for the stir of the breeze against the rocks, there are no sounds. The only living things visible are cacti far in the distance. The natives of this world know better than to come here, and anyone can sense the distant but powerful evil aura radiating from the east.
The land around this spot is devoid of life; there is only stone and a few patches of gray ash. How could such complete desolation occur? No natural event could cause such complete destruction; the only question is whether the damage was intentional or accidental. But what evil could possibly be so cruel as to allow life to be extinguished utterly?
A stone hut stands to the east, out of place amidst the lifeless rock desert that surrounds it. Evil radiates from the hut, evil and greed for power. Life is power, and whatever is inside has found a way to strip that power away for its own use. Whoever is inside seems completely blind to the terrible destruction they are causing. Or perhaps they just don't care.
The hut itself seems to be used as a source of supplies. Sacks of grain, barrels of water, and other goods are stacked around the hut. A staircase leads downward into the ground.
This hideout is home to several defilers, wizards so corrupted by their lust for power that they draw the energy for their magic from anything that lives. The underground hall stretches in all directions; a passageway leads north through the stone.
Bookshelves line the walls here, but the shelves are made of the carapace of a giant insect, and there are few books. Three pots sit on the floor here, but all they contain is dead soil and a thin layer of gray ash.
Alchemical equipment fills this corner of the hall. A chemist might be happy here; there is a good supply of chemicals and an excellent selection of flasks, graduated cylinders, and balances. However, the equipment is largely ignored by the defilers; the one who brought it here has since passed on.
This is the middle of the southern end of the defilers' underground hall. To the east and west is furnishings and equipment; to the north is a staircase leading upwards and beyond that a tunnel into the rock. The very air seems to suck life away.
A dozen pots stand in this corner of the room, protected by elaborate magical glyphs. Five are empty, while seven contain large and healthy cacti. Perhaps some magic requires an immediate source of life energy. In any case, the magical wards here seem to prevent routine spell casting from affecting the cacti.
This is where the defilers sleep and study. Three bunks are placed against the northern wall, and three desks stand alone in the room. The desks are wooden, but they look strangely shriveled and stony, as if the wood has forgotten it was ever alive.
A narrow passage gives access to a small chamber to the north and a large underground hall to the south. Immediately to the south, stairs lead upwards. Immediately to the north is an evil presence so strong it is almost overwhelming.
The walls of this small chamber are blackened and radiate a lust for power and life. Carvings on the wall depict a series of dragons, but the dragons look strangely human. Four gleaming spheres of obsidian are placed about the room, one in each corner. Pictographs on the ceiling depict a man standing on a temple, holding obsidian orbs and surrounded by hundreds of people. Then the people are dying, their life energy flowing into the orbs. Then the man stands on the temple alone, but now he is half dragon. Ancient tomes are stacked on a desk at the northern wall; the contorted letters on the covers seem to burn one's eyes. Beside the tomes are a pair of flawless obsidian orbs.
The ground rises a little here, providing a vantage point from which to survey the surroundings. A small mountain range rises far off in the west, but in every other direction only an endless plain of orange-red sandstone is visible. The path runs north and south.
An impressive saguaro cactus towers, tree-like, over the path. It has many more spines than normal saguaros, but then everything here does. A foot-long preying mantis surveys the countryside from atop one of the arms of the cactus.
The path splits here, but the eastern branch does not seem to have been used in some time. To the north, a small settlement is just visible, though there are too many boulders in the way to see exactly how big it is.
A small settlement of escaped slaves lies to the north. It does not look like a cheerful place; most of the inhabitants are underfed, water is scarce, and conditions are harsh. Slavery must have been awful for these people to prefer their current conditions over being a slave. To the south, a path leads through the seemingly endless stony barrens.
The slave village is arranged in a circle; you can count six makeshift structures constructed from animal hides, beetle carapace, straw, and leather. The whole place smells rather nasty, too.
A dozen or more ex-slaves live in this patchwork structure. The slaves tell each other stories of their former lives in the mighty cities of Raam and Draj. They tell of Abalach-Re and Tectuktitlay, the near-omnipotent and evil sorcerer-queen and sorcerer-king of the two cities. They tell of the corrupt templars who brutally enforce the sorcerer-kings' will. They tell of human sacrifices on the great temple in Draj, of chaos and looting in Raam. It sounds as though it is much better to be in a small, smelly hut in the wilderness than in either of the cities.
A number of ex-slaves live in this patchwork structure. The slaves here are busy mending damaged clothing, cleaning weapons and armor, and recovering from wounds. Everyone seems in a grim mood, despite a pleasant humming emitted by a small beetle caged in the corner.
This is the heart of the tiny, squalid village. Day to day survival is a struggle in this place. The scars and determination on the faces of those who live here show that they have what it takes to survive.
A small path leads between two huts to a third. A potent odor of flesh and chemicals comes from the door to the east. Fortunately for the rest of the village, the odor seems to hang in the air here rather than invading the other huts.
The village tanner lives and works in this makeshift building. Tanned hides hang around the room and unworked skins lie on the floor. Several vats of foul-smelling liquid sit on the floor; one is heated by a small beetle-dung fire. The tanner must have no sense of smell whatsoever or this place would surely drive him mad.
A small path leads between two huts to a third. A pleasant odor of bread and spices comes from the door to the east. Unfortunately for the rest of the village, the odor seems to hang in the air here rather than drifting into the other huts.
The village baker and cook lives and works in this makeshift building. The spare food and water of the village is also stored here, making the baker one of the most important people in the village. A bone rack holds exotic spices and some small potted herbs. The stove is a large brick affair, heated by both wood and dung. Several loaves of bread and two pots of stew stand ready on the stove.
Two huts lie to the east and west, while to the north there is nothing but the endless plain of the stony barrens. A small dog-like creature watches the village from a distance, wondering if it might be safe to nip closer and grab something to eat.
This hut is used for everything that has no better place to be. Torn hides, broken clay pots, cracked gourds, all can be found here. The village healer can also be found here, for like everything else, there is no better place for him to be. The healer has no bed; he sleeps directly on the ground. A small statuette proclaims his devotion to the power of elemental earth.
No village would be complete without weapons, and those are stored here. Most of the weapons are makeshift tools or broken, but there are a few decent weapons. The most powerful warrior in the village, once a slave gladiator in the arena of Draj, lives here to ensure the safety of the weapons. In the back of the hut there is a rough hole dug into the earth and then through the rock. A faint hint of moisture in the air suggests that the hole could lead to an underground water supply.
The slaves' camp sits in a tight circle just south of here. East of the path, a sturdy pen holds a dozen kanks, ant-like insects the size of ponies; they are used both as mounts and for the globes of honey-like nectar they produce. West of the path is a small fenced garden, but nothing is producing right now and the plants are rather wilted. Beyond them the scorching rock desert just keeps going and going and going, with nothing in it worth the walk.
Crumbling boulders, drifts of orange soil, and orange-red sandstone. That's all there is to see in every direction. A path leads east and west, and it makes as much sense to follow it as it does to go in any other direction.
Crumbling boulders, drifts of orange soil, and orange-red sandstone. The path is fainter here; the drifts have covered it in places, and only a line of stones set on end by someone long ago shows where it goes, east and west. Far off east, the ground looks strangely pale.
Crumbling boulders, drifts of orange soil, and orange-red sandstone. That's all there is to see in every direction. A path leads north and west, and it makes as much sense to follow it as it does to go in any other direction.
To the north, the land changes from a rocky desert to some kind of white soil that has collected in a depression. The surroundings are otherwise unremarkable; the plain of rocks of all sizes interspersed with a few cacti seems endless. A path leads north and south.
To the north, the ground dips lower and sinks beneath a pearly white powder that has collected here. The powder is worse than quicksand, but it is completely dry. It is possible to walk along the shore of the silt, and it might be safe to wade north into it. To the south, a path leads away from the silt through a vast stony barrens.
Well, the silt doesn't seem so interesting from here. The depression goes on for miles along the shore, the silt coastline stretching unchanging and unbroken. Nearby, east along the shore, a path leaves the silt, and the shallow silt to the north is moving slightly of its own accord.
The silt goes on for a long, long way and then curves out of sight. Far to the southeast, past the stony barrens, you can just make out a region of more plentiful vegetation and perhaps a city. Unfortunately, it is far too distant to reach on foot over the shifting rocks of the barrens. Nearby, west along the shore, a path leads away from the silt.
The desiccated, dusty silt is about three feet deep here. Nothing could possibly live under the silt--but what was that motion farther out? It looks very dangerous to go any deeper into the silt; also, the shallow silt to the west is moving slightly of its own accord. The bank of the silt sea promises relative safety to anyone who will go south.
The desiccated, dusty silt is about three feet deep here. Wait--what was that?! A sickly white tentacle stretches above the silt, then sinks back below. Maybe it isn't safe here. Very maybe. The silt grows deeper out toward the middle, and probably even more dangerous. The shore is just south.
The desiccated, dusty silt is about three feet deep here. It would be foolish to go deeper into the silt--who knows what sinister creatures could lurk under there! (Not to mention, silt isn't easy to breathe in.) It might not be fatal to wade west, but the shore to the south looks by far the safest.
Ack! Something has your ankle, and it's pulling you deep under the silt! You'd better do something FAST--you can't hold your breath much longer, and there's no way you can make it to the surface or the shore in time, even if you could get your ankle free. HURRY!!!
Your lungs can't hold out any longer and you gasp in a huge breath of dry, powdery silt. A few seconds after you stop writhing, you become a tasty snack for a huge gray silt horror.
This small path seems to have been forgotten for some time, but a fallen tree has opened up the way into it again. The Hullack Forest is dark and gloomy all around, thick with brambles that no one has cut in years, but the path bends north here, where the trees look brighter and more open.
This hall is filled with a long mahogany table surrounded by countless chairs. At one end of the table there is a chair made of solid magic. A number of golden spheres wander high above the table. Despite the stark beauty of the room, there is no apparent way out; the ceiling is engraved with magical runes which prevent most magic from taking effect.
This large hall has soft, carpeted floors, ornate wooden walls, and a high, arching ceiling traced with swirling blue lines. A number of couches and tables are positioned around the room for the comfort of those who would come here. The acoustics of the room have been enhanced so that everyone can hear what anyone is saying, but the noise of conversation never becomes deafening.