Khorrainian the Eaten

This ruined and “lifeless” city rests at the foot of Mount Ragal now known as Deathwatch Mountain, due to the folly that destroyed the city.

The ruins have beckoned many a treasure seeker, but “The Burn” as it it has come to be known is a brutal barrier to any who would spend time in this accursed place.

The Dragon Lord of Taurduin was one creature that routinely made this trek to the lake on the mountain top, gathering a large amount of the precious water and using it to nurture his island nation. His death and the devastation of the island of Taurduin leaves his people in dire need. If ever there was a Pyrrhic victory in war this would have to be it. The survivors, those not still trapped on the wartorn isle, are scattered along the coast of whyrllish a hostile tribal nation. They are making their way towards refuge with Lady Gavashoon of Auris and from there to the nation of Mithrin.

A blight threatens since the apocalypse that occurred when D’Josso was killed The Harvester destroyed. A malaise has settled on those who survive. It slowly weakens them until they can no longer move, followed eventually by death. No herbs or clerical endearments have managed to stop its progression, only slow it. If the water of Glimmermere cannot halt and cure this malady. The entire surviving population of Taurduin will perish before the snow falls.

In the vast, unforgiving expanse of the Burn, lies the forsaken city of Khorrainian the Eaten. This once prosperous metropolis, now buried and broken, stands as a grim monument to the relentless power of the desert.

Khorrainian was renowned for its eclectic mix of architectural styles, a testament to its history as a crossroads of civilizations. Now, these structures are mere shadows of their former glory, their intricate details obscured by layers of fine, dust and sand carried by ceaseless winds.

The city’s skyline, though fragmented, still bears traces of its diverse heritage. Towering minarets, stretching skyward, their tops crumbling and weathered. These spires, once adorned with colorful tiles and delicate filigree, are now muted and eroded, their beauty reduced to mere outlines against the stark desert backdrop.

At the heart of Khorrainian, the Grand Plaza, once the bustling epicenter of commerce and culture, lies silent and desolate. The plaza was surrounded by majestic buildings, including grand marketplaces with domed roofs and arched entrances. These marketplaces, now lie in ruins, their domes partially collapsed and their arches filled with drifting sand.

The residential quarters of Khorrainian reveal a blend of architectural styles from different eras. Narrow, winding alleyways are lined with houses of varying designs. Some homes are constructed from sunbaked adobe bricks, their surfaces cracked and their vibrant paint long faded. Others are built from sturdy stone, with columns and porticoes, now chipped and worn by the relentless desert winds.

Among these ruins stand the remnants of once-grand palaces, where the city’s elite resided. These palaces are marked by intricate courtyards, ornate fountains, and delicate latticework. The fountains, now dry and filled with sand, were once the lifeblood of these opulent residences. The latticework, designed to provide shade and elegance, now stands brittle and broken, casting intricate shadows on the ground.

The city’s outer edges are marked by the remains of its defensive walls and towers, built to protect Khorrainian from both invaders and the encroaching jungle in days of old. These fortifications stand as crumbling barriers against the desert’s relentless advance. The watchtowers, once manned by vigilant sentinels, are now empty and eroded, their stairways filled with drifting sand.

Khorrainian the Eaten, swallowed by the desert, is now a ghostly reminder of a once-thriving civilization. The ever-shifting sands, driven by the desert winds, continue to reclaim the city, filling its streets and buildings with a fine, dust. The silence that envelops Khorrainian is profound, broken only by the whispering winds and the occasional collapse of weakened structures. This lifeless city, with its mixed heritage architecture, stands as a poignant testament to the relentless power of nature.