Kadin
Blood, Salt and Sand
Kadin is a land where the relentless sun rules, its dunes shifting like waves in a golden sea. The Sand Ocean of Calua sprawls endlessly, its winds whispering tales of lost cities and half-buried temples swallowed by time. The sky burns bright by day, forcing travellers to shelter beneath the shade of towering cacti or risk being drained of all strength. By night, the temperature plummets, and the desert comes alive with unseen predators lurking in the cold silence.
The province is shaped by three defining edges—the mineral-rich salt flats to the north, where convicts labour under the watchful eyes of the Tarkantry; the temperate borderlands to the south, where the sands meet the Gaulan Plains; and the fiery west, where volcanic heat from the Firefang Jags warps the land itself. Rivers of molten gold lace the dunes, an illusion of fortune that has lured countless fools to their deaths. The gold, tainted with sand, is worthless for coinage but sought after for gilding statues and weapons. Some whisper that the Goldfists, an infamous mercenary band, coat their own limbs in the molten metal, turning their bodies into living weapons.
Kadin is dotted with ancient ruins, their sandstone walls weathered by centuries of wind and grit. Among them stands Silvermound, a city built where three silver meteorites once crashed, unearthing a hidden spring and producing the richest lunar silver veins in Galfin. Here, under the rule of Tombking Viumu Rhytyn, merchants and warlords alike jockey for power, and the Hierarch maintains its grip over the desert's most coveted wealth.
Despite the harshness of the land, life thrives. The Sand Terra Elves traverse the dunes on swift Buraq horses, their nomadic caravans vanishing into the mirage. Enormous sand wyrms burrow beneath the surface, while cunning hyenas and monstrous shredcorpse scorpions stalk the unwary. The enigmatic Ancient Ones—giants of stone and sand—leave behind massive sculptures carved into the monoliths, silent remnants of an age long past.
Kadin’s food is as rugged as its people. Travellers barter for helioptar stew or seared snake at waystations, their meals cooked over open fires beneath the stars. Oasis springs serve as lifelines, where water is worth more than gold, and a stolen canteen is a death sentence.
This is Kadin—where the sands shift with secrets, the gold flows but hides its wealth, and the desert itself decides who may cross and who will be buried beneath it.
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