The Pock The Pock is a semi-permanent portal between the physical world and the extra-dimensional demonic realms Only fools attempt to penetrate its molten depths or even travel near it Never more than once every three years, diabolical beings escape into the Khitan wastelands here, powerful refugees who seek refuge from even deadlier foes beneath Much of the portal’s energy seems to bleed off and fuel the infernal heat around it, thus rarely focusing enough energy to open the portal fully Blood River & The Scab From the Pock’s eastern edge pours a river unlike any other on Khitus: a river of blood that flows sluggishly down through a barren valley Where it passes, stones remain stained red for years Foul lizards and toads live here, accustomed to the river’s grotesque nourishment, disturbed only infrequently by wanderers who stagger lost into this forsaken place The river’s source appears a fleshy gash in the world that refuses to heal Blood River gives way to many stinking tributaries at the valley’s terminus It spreads thinly across the land, coagulating into field after field of crusty crusted ichor called the Scab It is a cursed place that even the sand does not bury, air and land both festering with putrid gore, maggots, and choking swarms of flies Banishment into the Scab is among the more heinous Khitan death sentences Grarraque’s Rest The desiccated remains of an ancient grarraque beast lie half-buried out in the wastelands Many millennia ago, the Dragon Kings stopped the dreaded beast but could not destroy this force of nature To keep it from again rising on Khitus, the Daragkarik “infected” it with a living shield of scarabs, a collective swarm cursed to always consume the ever-regenerating corpse Built in a hollow under its massive body is the small town called Grarraque’s Rest The town contains several hundred souls looking for a “safe place” to hide away from their troubles or the troublemakers of the world Few buildings of any true permanence exist here, though some places have become reinforced by constant wind-blown dust and dirt as well as broken, discarded chitin Most, however, remain crude huts or tents pitched here by the truly desperate Protecting the Rest is an ancient living being known by the denizens as Trinesta She appears akin to a female centaur, though her hindquarters are those of a massive scarab (though a few think this is merely an illusion over her true form) More often, her voice rises out of the col118 “What kind of favors, you ask? One time she sent my bartender Atik out into the waste to deliver a message to a group of raiders Didn’t see him for months, then from out of no where he comes sauntering into town with a new mount, armor, weapons ain’t been seen in an age, and more coin than I’ve seen well ever!” Jarik K’arr, owner of the Scarabs Shell lective crackle of the thousands of scarabs that make up her true form—the cursed shield of scarabs tied to the grarraque’s corpse While none know for certain, some guess she was a wizard who summoned a grarraque in hopes of wresting power from a Dragon King This is her eternal prison and punishment Regardless of the truth, Trinesta allows the town to exist and protects it from raiders in exchange for news and stories of the world as well as the occasional favor The town’s largest building and its centerpiece is the tavern called The Scarabs’ Shell Thousands of dead scarab shells, glued or otherwise, coat the outside of the building, giving it an interesting coppery hue The tavern’s owner is Jarik K’arr, a half-breed humanoid who has been at the Rest for many years, serving up advice as much as food and drink There are only two rules at the Shell set by K’arr: • “If you can tell a story or sing a song or generally be entertaining, you can get a free meal and a night in a good room.” • “Don’t kill the scarabs.” “Been a few years, but there’s always as many idiots as there are sands out there One time, there was this caravan guard what got surprised by one of Trinesta’s beauties as it crawled along his table Either his wits was empty or his reaction was faster than ‘em, but he smashed one scarab Cracked one of my best tables, he did.” “Hadn’t heard the place get that quiet without being empty Ten breaths of silence, and that fool’s looking about, wondering why folk clearing away from him.” “End of those breaths, the floor boards boil with scarabs—hundreds of `em Flowed up and over that guy right quick—quite a smart suit of armor, it’d been if it weren’t biting him all over Trinesta be praised they soon stuffed down his throat to quiet his screaming That guy fell down and the carpet of scarabs carried him away Any more questions about the bugs?” Jarik K’arr, owner of the Scarabs’ Shell