The result of Vauraki's wrath directed by Axtrami's will. The Sila'Khrysath is the elemental embodiment of the fury of the desert. Woe to those who encounter the Great Sand Wyrm within the Karikun Desert!
The shining city of glass and mirror within the forboding Karikun desert. Welcome to the home city and birthplace of the Ouzquin Dremorix.
Travelling the shifting sands at night was always a dangerous task. Freshly recruited into the Ouzquin Dremorix army, young Fallava and Moruz followed the grizzled veteran before them. They were hunting a band of Latrani orcs, and the trail was fresh. The grey-haired Avaki raised two fingers in a sign of silence as the trio neared the top of the rise, and slowly, the man breached the top of the dune. "Aaahh," Avaki exhaled mournfully as he slung his Ouzala over his shoulders. Down the other side of the dune lay an oasis, and as Fallava and Moruz came forth they saw the reason for Avacti's sigh. The corpses of a dozen Ouzquin Dremorix lay in pieces across the bank of the water. Blood stained the sand. Without looking back to the young man and woman, Avaki spoke softly, "Vauraki has fed well this night."
A chill ran up Moruz's spine. He could have sworn he heard a wilting howl inside his head.
Herein lies the story of Aurali; the ghoul of Axtrami. The Vultuin Xactaki.
Faith is a powerful thing.
Belief in ones self can help you push yourself beyond the limits imagined.
Belief in others can raise spirits and make them work with greater fervor.
Belief in a religion can make people perform actions which would otherwise be unacceptable.
Once however, long ago in times forgotten, someone believed so deeply; so strongly, that in an eternity of darkness, a glass eye opened.
Worse than those of the Shattered Orb are those who have fallen from the Bright Path and Axtrami’s grace. Yet among them are some who have recieved the extreme blessing of Axtrami, to become glass themselves…
The words which lie herein are a documentary of the Ouzala - the Weapon of the Ouzquin Dremorix - And the enchantments of Axtrami.
The city of the Bright People fell, but the spirit of its people remains. A legend of the Ouzquin Dremorix.
A legendary weapon of the Ouzquin Dremorix
Jemas Lorne, the most celebrated poet of the age, was found dead, clutching a fragment of verse torn from his journal. The tantalizing fragment spoke of wealth:
Golden sands, empty and cold,
Treasure's crypt, forgotten gold.
Under stone, ancestor's doom,
Noble's prize, troubadour's tomb.
Rumours claim that the poet's father, an eccentric nobleman, had hidden much of his wealth before his death. Perhaps the missing journal has more clues?