Fancy Bastard Scales of War
After passing through a murky veil the color of falling twilight, the unfortunate traveler arriving in this realm finds a dark and blasted land. Cracked deserts stretch outward to form the slopes of jagged crags in one direction and fall away into dark canyons in the other. Hot winds wail, carrying black clouds that are the only features of a sunless, starless sky. From the deepest chasms, the glow of rolling magma sheds the dominion’s only light, except for the occasional flash of lightning. Dust chokes the air, and sickening vapors rise from volcanic vents. The rains, when they come, are bruising but brief, swallowed by the thirsty earth.
Like a winding serpent, the canyons twist and turn, folding back on themselves and leaving mesas and “islands” of raised earth in their midst. Upon these, and on the brooding cliffs and chasm walls, great ziggurats and foul temples loom. These terrible edifices glisten black, because light rolls off them like the rare falling rain.
This is Tytherion, a realm of unending gloom and despair so palpable that one can smell it on the arid winds, and home of two of the darkest deities to torment the cosmos. In the high mesas and plateaus of Samaragd, the murderous serpent god Zehir coils through an endless labyrinth of caverns beneath the temples and sacrificial shrines. Throughout the lowland deeps called Azharul the voracious dragon god Tiamat broods over ancient hoards and covets all that is not already hers. The exalted of both deities are known as darksworn. Their paths seldom cross, so one of the few mercies that uninvited guests in Tytherion can expect is that they won’t have to fight the forces of both deities at the same time.