La'maza & the Wind That Speaks

Elegant buildings emerge in the distance from rippling waves of heat. The arched doorway of the main gate, and its intricate facade, glimmers under sparse iron lanterns. Earth-baked walls of plaster and brick bare marks of erosion from the harsh climate. Bronze doors hang heavy on hinges, chains rattling in the wind at the gates of La'maza.

Deeper: The air in the town smells of cool dry earth, shaded beneath the colorful canopy that drapes over iron chains overhead. At town center, a sentinel bell tower overlooks the barren landscape. A mosaic'd fountain dominates the town center where people gather to gossip and trade. [market]
[Nights with a full moon], residents retreat to their homes and bar their doors from within. Streets empty, windows shutter tight and the old folk put out iron chimes and wind bells to ward away the Wind That Speaks.

The Wind That Speaks careens through the narrow streets of the town, a restless force that tugs at shutters. It sweeps up leaves and dust often into an inhumanoid shape, creating swirling eddies around the silent bell tower and over the desolate town square. It presses against bolted doors. It chooses confidants, swirling around the lonely and contemplative. It murmurs about lost loves returning, hisses tales of undiscovered talents and fame beyond the wastelands. Its words are a mixture of comfort and mischief.
See La'maza Market