Aqaba

1001st Year of the Pharaoh

Salaam and good evening, my worthy friends! I am a Chronicler, One Who Remembers, sometimes called a Storyteller. I have recently returned from a most wondrous place, a place of enchantment, of swords, of sorcery.   But mostly of sand and seas.   Home to Salt Mines, Spice Mines, and torn by political infighting, Aqaba is a hellish, barren waste of sandstorms, wurm attacks, or worse.   For the past 10 Centuries, the Eternal Pharaoh has maintained peace between his High Priests, his Merchants, the Bedu, and the Resistance, however, his power seems to be waning. Already, they have lost the maps of three ancient island paradises.   Their Three Holy Rivers, the Waters of Life, the River of Death, and the Salt Road are drying up, and the oceans around the continent are turning more hostile by the day. Trade off the main continent is all but impossible due to sea monsters, and the Dread Maelstrom.   Spice is precious, water even moreso. The desert is harsh, blindingly hot during the day, some places dropping to below freezing at night. The adventurer who wears metal armor is asking the Eternal Pharaoh to grant him his Final Peace.   It is here, worthy adventurers, that I had been called, the Eternal Pharaoh himself summoned me. The art of cartography has been lost. The Aqabian Cedars are dying, and shipwrights are few and far between. Those precious desert Oasis Havens are disappearing.   Corruption in the ranks of the Servants of the Eternal Pharaoh are driving war, fighting, and strife. Magic is in short supply, primarily in the hands of the elite, the noble, and the priesthood. It is because of this the Eternal Pharaoh has summoned me, specifically. To record the deeds of these darkest of days.   And for you brave adventurers who wish to travel the Sands, use your time wisely, and be safe! For there are Fates far worse than Death, lurking in the Aqabian Nights...