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  The cooling wash of Water is polluted and dried up by the deathly thirst of the Negative
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| Genasi ] The Deserts of White Sand When the wet sloshing of Water becomes the mere babble of a stream, then a trickle, until it is just drip-drop-drip. Travel part that place until the water itself crystallises, not from the cold, but because the minerals within crash out with thirst. Keep on walking drywards, until the slushy white soup hardens and becomes brittle, until the dead water crunches underfoot and the arid winds leech out moisture from your skin. Wrap your shawl tighter, keep a grip on your water canteen and trudge on. When the salt is so parched it sucks the sweat through your shoes and your throat is cracking down to your stomach with the dryness, you are here. Welcome to Salt... |
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Moisture's Doom A glancing look at the plane, its physical conditions, and vital chant you'll need to know if you're fool enough to come here. Burgs and sites, barren and parched, choking with crystals of white upon white. Vast areas of impure Salt, where the Core touches neighbouring planes. Each has its own secrets, burgs and hazards. Check out the Map, or find out more, if you will, about:
What beasts are looking to drink your blood? The Loreseekers of the Eroding Sands: Planar cutters more interested in what things used to be than where they're going next. Spells and prayers developed to make travel on the plane easier, or that draw their power from the plane itself. New items and objects from the plane. True stories, horror stories, and traveller's tips, they're all here, cutter. Learn what you can from them. Copyright 1999-2000, the Mimir Team, Layout by Jon Winter and Jeremiah Golden Saline Sea picture by Roy Random
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