Hidden deep in the shifting sands of the Deadlands east of the Witchwood lies Khasim’s Crown, a half-forgotten oasis town built among the ruins of an empire that once ruled the desert skies. Few beyond wandering caravans even know of its existence. The dunes themselves seem to guard it, swallowing all but the most determined travelers who stumble upon its palm groves and freshwater pools.
The modern settlement clings to survival within the shadow of its ancestors. Crumbled stone arches and half-buried colonnades rise from the sand, relics of the ancient city that bore the same name. The living have repurposed these ruins into homes, markets, and sanctuaries, weaving reed mats across shattered walls and carving shelters into old pillars. Lanterns of polished bronze gleam at night, lighting narrow streets that echo with the hum of desert insects and the rustle of palms.
The people of Khasim’s Crown live in rhythm with a nightmare. By day, the sands belong to the Sandwalkers, restless corpses that stalk the desert heat, drawn to the living with a hunger older than memory. To survive, the townsfolk retreat into their homes and shutter the streets, the town falling into a hushed, almost tomb-like silence beneath the burning sun.
When the sun sets and the air cools, life stirs again. Doors open, torches flare, and the town awakens. Families gather at the oasis to draw water, merchants bring out their wares, and laughter returns to the streets under the stars. Night is their day, and their festivals, markets, and councils all thrive beneath the gaze of the moon.