"Reills. E'en the name makes me shudder. That there is unholy ground, cursed by most gods. Not even the demons and devils and the incarnations o' evil dare step foot there. Reills. You know me, I think money likes it in my pocket instead of wherever else it is. But, and I've heard rumors that say this, if theirs treasure on that ground, it ain't going in my pocket on pain o' death."
-Old Gerald, man in the pub.
A supposedly empty desert on the far side of the mountains has started growing. No one knows why. At the center of the desert lies a tall rock outcropping, hundreds of feet tall. Dust storms shroud the outcropping constantly, except for one night a year.