The Ocadian Desert is a desolate place. The spirit of the land has been crushed, changing the region from a series of islands with evergreen forests and animals in a shallow sea, to one of the most inhospitable places on the Sphere.
“Don’t be a Yak.” A common Ocadian saying.
Ephemeralstability wrote:
The ochre sands stretch for miles around. Something kicks up the dust. It’s a yak. A desert-yak. It ambles slowly, nuzzling the ground for the low-growing shrubs. The ranger freezes. “Stay very still,” he warns. “Don’t move at all.” “What is it?” you ask, breathlessly. “It’s the most dangerous creature in the whole Ocadian desert. And it’s about to eat that yak…”
The accepted mode of getting otherwise unobtainable information is to go visit the cranky old hermit living in the mountains. It's just the sensible thing to do. So, naturally, everyone takes their monthly excursion to the hermit's hovel to consult him on everything, from lock-jaw to lovesickness, necromancers to nasal viruses.
Now, if everyone's always visiting the poor old hermit, there's going to be an enormous queue... "Wellcome to the Hermitt's Hovele, Please Take Ye a Number and Have Ye a Seate" reads the sign outside the packed dwelling.
Imagine the poor hermit, having retreated into the mountains to escape this precise situation...
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The shark is the most efficient hunters in the realms. This has empowered the Shark Spirit, to become the Beast Hunting Spirit. This powerful spirit has bound elementals of various kinds and places with a shark imprint. These bound spirits spawn new shark races: land sharks, sand sharks, sky sharks, and as for here, The OcrheMaws.