INKTOBER '20 #13 - Dune

Not everyone in Wharf Town is a citizen, of course – like any bustling metropolis, or at least one pretending to the title with all due vehemence, it boast a pretty staggering number of guests, passersby’s, vagabonds of every kind and of course merchants. It didn’t take long for the growing city to became a local trading hub and soon reaching a more illustrious status of regional center of trade, crucial to the flow of goods from distant lands. And the Wharfian coin – the Sheller – became a de facto currency for all realms surrounding the city. They say that markets of the Wharf are a sight to behold, filled with exotic goods, chocked with aromas of spice, questionable food and odours of the folk of every shape and size. And it was indeed the place that even the rarest and most elusive of people attended to at some point – like This-One-Who-Dwells-Deep, an ancient and wizened Sand Elemental who came from the depths of the Glassed Desolation to exchange his artifacts for a king ransom. Crafty spirit found a peculiar way to travel – as they are genius loci, ghosts bound to the very ground their inhabit, the only way for them to move away from their locale is to pick it with them! And so, This-One-Who-Dwells-Deep procured himself a fancy walking urn to carry his golden sand with him, so his very essence can seep into it and travel far and wide, hiring affordable goons for protection and dealing with esoteric weaponry of the dark glass or rarest minerals, cursed, vexed, forgotten and precious.