The Withern Sea

The lone and level sands of the Withern Sea stretch far away, all the way to the farthest horizon in the north and the east. Standing on a ridge overlooking the desert, like the Umbrian plateau in Carlia, sand and rock is all one can see: the dunes undulate for hundreds of miles with no end in sight. Few ever travel into the Withern Sea, because there is little reason to beyond wanderlust: everyone knows how empty and dry and inhospitable it is, and the shifting sands have never revealed any valuable secrets that may inspire a band of treasure hunters or a businessman's land-claiming expedition. The desert knows no seasons, and while during the day it is scorching hot, at night it can become cold as ice with winds harsh enough to cut the skin with the force of the sand whipping through the air. In especially bad years the sandstorms break the sloping banks of the desert and blot out the sun for days at a time over Carlia and Cambra, choking the rivers and harrying the land, so it is little wonder why few willingly try to pry into the Withern Sea's secrets.

Some claim to have been through the desert on trade routes and say that, hidden by the rocky hills and blowing sand is a great lake that nurtures life at the very centre of the Withern Sea, but they have never provided evidence save for their fantastical anecdotes. More promising are the repeated sightings, during the rare rainstorms over the desert, of silhouetted figures walking the dunes in long caravans, going who knows where.

The Withern Sea is the epitome of what Cambran merchants call terres inconnues: unknown lands, tantalising with their mystery, but serving more as foolish gambles for penniless merchants and low-ranked guilds than legitimate opportunities. Perhaps someone, someday, will reveal the truth that lies deep within the Withern Sea.