If,
after visiting the chaos that is Kambyra Town, there is further proof needed of
the somewhat fragile nature of colonial control, one need look no further than
the Dustlands. This inimical region of dust, gravel and quicksand begins after
half an hour’s slow ride east of Kambyra Town, and almost immediately conjures
in the traveller a sentimental appreciation of the hovels and sickly masses of
the settlement one has so recently departed. I have never felt, so swiftly, so
great a revulsion for a region and its inhabitants – for yes, folk dwell here,
and they are truly contemptible.
An excerpt from the Earl of Zastenuto’s “The Empire
Abroad: An Exile’s Travels Throughout The Colonies”
Yes,
well, the Dustlands...there’s a reason that the colonial government granted the
task of defending the only road out of Kambyra Town to the Leagues. Only the
Leagues can afford the high price in soldiers and equipment to keep the road
open. I’ve traversed the Dustlands more times than I can recall – it’s a great
source for raw material – and every time, I’ve shed blood for the privilege.
Calvid Rhoak, the Wandering Scrimshander
When leaving Kambyra, the only road to the
interior passes through increasingly marginal farmland until it reaches the
aptly-named Dustlands. Essentially a great sandbar accumulated over millennia,
it links the old volcanic crater that Kambyra Town occupies with the mainland.
Here and there the remnants of old islands (a heavily eroded lava flow from the
long-dead volcano) thrust above the dunes and quicksands, marked by spare trees
and thin grasses. There are only eleven of these large enough to support
settlement. Six are found on or near the colonial road, and each of these are
home to small Keeps where soldiers of the Gilbhur Trading Leagues retain troops
to patrol the road. Three of the remaining five are highly contested: the various
small clans of humans that dwell in the Dustlands are constantly warring over
them as sources of water and pasturage, whilst one other is held tightly under
the control of a family of Gnolls. The other is seldom spoken of, although it
is said to be the largest. It was, at one time, a sacred site for the native
Tavarawans, but they have long since abandoned it, although the reasons for
doing so remain a mystery.
Settlement
Outside of the Six Keeps and the small
hamlets that serve them, there is little organised settlement – and certainly
none that acknowledges the colonial administration! On the southern shores of the sandbank, the
land is marshy and dangerous. Small Tavarawan clanholds occupy the best areas
for gathering shellfish and hunting the rich birdlife. They supplement this by
making occasional forays to one of the Keeps where they sell shell-jewellery
and bird-feather cloaks (often these may possess minor magical powers, having
been created using the old Tavarawan practices of Charmcraft). These clans are
under considerable pressure from the Marsh Goblins and Boggards that dwell in
the vast swamps south and east of the Dustlands.
The central Dustlands – the high dunes and
rocky outcrops that are the ‘backbone’ of the region – is, nominally at least,
under colonial control. This control, such as it is, is exercised by proxy
through the Gilbhur Trading Leagues, who,
in return for vast commercial concessions, have taken on the burden of
keeping the road open and the barbarian clans under control. In this last, they
have met with minimal success, but the road is almost completely free of
banditry, and thus safe for the flow of goods and people. However, the Leagues’
mastery only extends for a few miles north and south of the colonial road.
Beyond their reach, small and sickly clans prey upon one another and anyone
foolish enough to leave the road. These ‘clans’ are composed of escaped slaves,
shipwrecked pirates, runaway criminals, peasants driven from their lands by the
colonial policies of enclosure, a few native Tavarawans and various
human-goblinoid hybrids driven out of colonial lands. Each clan numbers no more
than one hundred members, and they are all, without exception, desperate,
undernourished and brutal. They skirmish ceaselessly for control of the various
‘islands’ not under League control and the brief and brackish watercourses that
are infrequently scattered across the central ridge (most are so marginal they
seldom reach the sea, except in the rainy season).
The northern part of the Dustlands,
representing almost half of the whole, is the most inimical portion of an
inimical land. Here is a sea of dunes interspersed with salt pans that runs
without interruption to the ocean, where the long, unbroken sweep of the coast
is home to a few Tavarawan fisherfolk too poor for anyone to be concerned with.
In fact, this region would be altogether ignored were it not for the fact that
the beaches are a remarkable source of ivory. In earlier times, when the
climate was less hostile and the sea level lower, many small islands could be
found here, supporting a remnant population of plesiosaurs along with many
cetaceans, who used the area as a mating-ground. It is surmised that a great
eruption from the volcano that is now Kambyra Town caused the wholesale
destruction of all life on and around these former islands. Now, most years,
the stormy season washes up vast quantities of bones on this inhospitable
shore. Ivory raiders take ship every year to sweep the beaches (whilst culling
the native population, apparently without remorse) of the sea’s remarkable
bounty. However, despite the richness of the trade, it is generally deemed a
pointless expense to operate permanent stations here (although there have been
several attempts, all horrific failures). It should be mentioned here that at
least one highly eccentric nobleman and ivory merchant, Sir Kolster Ruhani
(domiciled in Kambyra Town during the gathering season, but usually found in
Dylaro) is looking into the establishment of a ‘floating’ station – basically a
large boat magically moored offshore – but his ideas are regarded as impratical
and indeed, rather risible.
The final point of interest in the north is
the rumoured existence of the largest and most bountiful of the ‘islands’. This
location was once a sacred meeting-ground for the Tavarawans, but they
abandoned it for unknown reasons nearly a thousand years earlier (colonial
scholars surmise that this occurred shortly after Shroudfall). It is said that
the native shamans worked considerable wonders there, but that the power or mana that infused the place became
‘uncouth’ (this is the closest translation Imperial linguists have made for the
Tavarawan word kapoa). Occasionally,
daring and foolish individuals attempt to locate this fabled location, but none
have found it, and most have died trying to do so.
Flora
and Fauna
Despite its general hostility to
settlement, the Dustlands region actually supports a considerable amount of
both plant and animal life. Spindletrees grow throughout the central and
southern areas, particularly along the – usually dry – watercourses. There are
also many succulents and water-hoarding mosses in these riverbeds, whilst the
‘islands’ are home to larger trees and rather tenuous grasslands (none of which
exceeds a few square miles in area). In addition, the strange opania plant or ‘Sand-fan’ grows –
seemingly at random – throughout the whole region. This odd plant – most of
which is actually underground – is noticeable from some distance as it thrusts
large fronds up out of the sand to a height of nearly twenty feet. These sway
in the near-constant winds that blow across the Dustlands, sending a strong,
sickly-sweet fragrance that carries up to a mile or more when the wind is
strong enough.
The Opania
plant represents both a boon and deadly danger to those crossing the Dustlands.
On the one hand, it is known that the extensive root system of the plant is
full of water-storing nodules, sufficient to keep up to five individuals
adequately watered for two or three days (depending on rainfall over the
preceding months). In addition, the scented spores, when burned in a censer,
have the advantageous property of making certain enchantments affect those
breathing in the smoke with greater power. The fronds themselves, if chewed, will
afflict the one ingesting them with acute nausea and brief but powerful
abilities to use divination magic.
However, the Opania is also a carnivorous plant: its mighty fronds and powerful
scent – and its ability to survive the Dustlands – all act to draw in the
curious, the unwary and the desperate. The plant is sensitive to the vibrations
created by those drawing near. Once a creature is within 3’ of the fronds, the
barbed roots concealed below the sand will suddenly lash out, ensnaring the
victim in a tough, thorny web, from which escape is unlikely, especially given
that the barbs secrete a potent paralytic poison. The captured being is then
drawn down into the sand, where it swiftly suffocates and is then consumed.
It is noted that some efforts have been
made to cultivate Opania plants, but
these have met with failure: it is simply too dangerous in the absence of
powerful magic to try and grow the plant. Further to this, the Leagues pay a
small group of horticulturalists to comb the colonial road and surrounds in
order to remove any immature Sand-fans that appear too close to the highway.
The Dustlands also support much birdlife:
the marshy south is a breeding ground for many birds, whilst the rocky
‘islands’ and sand-dunes are home to a native species of goat that is notably
hardy. Most of the ‘clans’ that haunt the Dustlands rely on these goats for
milk, cheese, clothing and occasionally, when times are extremely good, meat.
Most protein is sourced from birds, snakes and supplemented by occasional raids
of neighbouring farmlands (usually in the east rather than so close to Kambyra
Town, where retribution is swift and often final). Birds are a staple – even in
the Leagues strongholds and associated hamlets, due to the fact that veritable
armadas of migratory species pass over the Dustlands. There is a small but
significant industry based around the Keeps gathering guano for use as spell
components and spell catalysts, as well as in various alchemical
compounds.
The Dustlands are also home to many species
of vermin: large scorpions and spiders can be found wherever they may gain
purchase, whilst after the rainy season, hordes of oversized centipedes and
mosquitoes plague the southern and central regions.
The
Eastern Fringe
The Dustlands are separated from the
mainland by a narrow region of old lava flows. Aside from where the colonial
road bashes its way through a tight maze of fractured gullies and rifts, this
area is waterless and mostly lifeless. The porous volcanic rock absorbs all
moisture it receives, leaving the surface very dry. Only insects and moss
find a hold here. Where the colonial road disgorges into the low plains around
Little Vastroy is a small fortress, occupied by colonial troops. At this place,
Fort Vigil, the jurisdiction of the Leagues ends, and the much less
professional and less thorough colonial army takes over. It is thus prone to
serious raiding from the clans to the west, and is the source of much dispute
between the Leagues and the colonial military, each of whom blame the other for
failing to suppress the raiders.
The region also serves as a vital defense
for Kambyra Town in the event of revolt in the interior. Here is where the last
desperate assault of the Great Insurrection was stalled. A motley force of Kambyra’s
militia, a few marines and a peasant levy stalled an Elven assault long enough
for the colonial army to regather and rout the Elves. Since that ill-fated
moment, not one of the native Elves of Kambyra has passed Fort Vigil, even
though there has been a tenuous peace for generations.
