The Maw of Azhakul
South of Takavar, where the last reaches of the Kartegis Desert clash with the towering spine of the mountains, there lies a place whispered of in cautionary tales and campfire fables. The Maw of Azhakul yawns wide, a gaping wound in the earth where the rock itself seems to have been gnawed away by the passage of time and unseen forces.
A traveler gazing upon its vast limestone chasms and cavernous sinkholes might first marvel at the sheer grandeur of the landscape, the jagged stone sculpted by wind and water into an alien world of twisted formations and treacherous ridges. But those who linger too long will hear it—the wind, wailing through the hollows, carrying with it a sound that some claim is not mere air, but voices, whispering, pleading, warning.
For centuries, desert nomads have known better than to tread too close. They speak of passages that shift like the dunes, of unseen things that move in the depths where no sun has ever shone. They tell of a darkness older than the sands, and of treasures left behind by those who never returned. The Maw does not merely exist—it endures, as though it is waiting.
The Kothali and the Bargain
The Maw of Azhakul is not wholly uninhabited. In the deepest reaches, beyond where even the bravest explorers dare venture, dwell the Kothali, a tribe of Tabaxi who long ago vanished from the histories of the world above. Their fur is pale, their eyes luminous in the dark, and their bodies bear sigils of light, remnants of a time before the fall of the Eternal Empire. They do not speak in voices, but in gestures and silent whispers carried through the stone.
The Kothali do not offer their secrets freely. Those who encounter them must enter into a bargain—to gain knowledge of something lost, one must give up something precious. The meaning of 'precious' is known only to the Kothali, and many who strike a deal leave with more than they expected... and less than they desired. Some return with knowledge of buried places, yet forget their own pasts. Others carry relics of great power, only to suffer dreams that do not belong to them.
It is said that if one seeks the Kothali, they must travel deep, where the stone hums and the air thickens with unseen presence. There, in the dark, the Kothali will come.
Echoes of the Past
Legends claim that beneath the Maw of Azhakul lie remnants of the Eternal Empire, swallowed by time and catastrophe. Some believe it was once a mining colony, a place where alchemists extracted strange minerals of great power. Others whisper of a temple buried deep, a place where something ancient and watching still lingers.
The underground lakes within the Maw glow with an eerie phosphorescence, and explorers speak of veins of stone that hum with latent magic. The deeper one travels, the stranger the air becomes, thick with the weight of forgotten things. Perhaps this is why the Kothali remain—bound not by chains, but by purpose, as wardens of something the world above has long since chosen to forget.
And so it remains, a mystery on the border of two worlds, a scar between realms. Some claim it is the tomb of an empire, others say it is the womb of something yet to awaken. But those who dare to enter its depths do so at great risk, for the Maw does not give up its secrets willingly.
"Stand at its edge and listen, traveler. If you hear nothing, rejoice. If you hear something, pray it is only the wind."
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