Pyre

In the sky between Veile and Pyre, one can sail for days. The billowing heat that rises off the burning plains of the red continent allows for all manner of winged things to sail effortlessly, high above its surface. But should one of these idle beings allow itself to drift beyond the easy gliding of the rising current, and float or fly down to the surface of Pyre, it would find itself in the fierce lands of the powerful Pyroi and their unforgiving rituals, hunts, and battles. It is not unheard of for Skyborn to prevail in such trials, but to expect such luck is arrogance. The Pyroi are a proud and terrible Folk, tempered by constant sport and battle and hardened by the searing heat that flows through their wrathful stomping grounds.

The landscape of Pyre is an exercise in extremes. Few trees dot the horizon of the lichen-encrusted tundra which covers much of the lowlands. The snows can be fierce here, but on the rare occasion that the shard is not under the shadow, the climate can become almost pleasant for a short while. But it never lasts, and temperatures most of the time are extremely cold. Of more concern than the temperature are the rivers of molten rock that flow beneath the surface of the tundra. Never predictable, they may be so deep down that you’d never notice, or they may be just below the surface, only barely betrayed by subtle gas vents or melting of the permafrost. One wrong step upon one of these thin-crusted patches can end in a terrible death.

A visitor to Pyre would likely begin their excursion in the small city of Sukhaba Gol. This walled market city is located on one of the more pleasant stretches of tundra, known as a thundering ground because of the propensity for the creature known as the colossal Shovel- Tusk to wander there; somehow, the creature instinctively knows that the area’s subterranean magma is deep enough that even its enormous weight will not punch through the surface.

Beyond the tundra are the forests of the lowland taiga. These hills and plains are markedly less cold than the tundra below, and it is here that Folk begin to see the Frostcoal Pines.

If one were to leave the Warm City of Sukhaba Gol and journey toward the nearest treeline, it would not be long before one would wind up in the taiga and upon a ridge of hills called the Mane of Makhno. These hills curve like a scimitar blade around a small volcano, called Pahaz by the priests who maintain a temple there.

Deep within the boreal forests lives a formidable warband called the Ghost Worms. An off-shard visitor might think such a name is too small and grotesque for a Pyroi warband, until they are so damned as to set eyes upon the ice-burrowing Ghost Worm of Pyre.

At some point in any visitor’s travels on Pyroi, all roads lead to Kushir — or perhaps its lone tributary, Darhu. Kushir is a great river of magma. The Kushir is wide and deep, its banks sheer cliffs of volcanic glass. Iron bridges are maintained along its length, which runs from the center of Pyre all the way to pour off the edge into the Stars Beneath. The bridges were allegedly built by a Pyroi blacksmith who wished to make it her life’s work to connect the broken lands of Pyre, so that each Pyroi’s honor would be the glory of all Pyroi-kind.

As for the river itself, most living things on Pyre do right to stay well away from it. But, a dangerous species called Cemetery Crabs live along its banks, and the brilliant orange Magma Lynxes can often be seen at the river’s edge. The latter are prized by priests and chieftains, being kept as hunting pets or symbols of status.

Following the treacherous banks of the Kushir to the center of the shard, the ground gains elevation and the air becomes cold again if you wander too far from the river. Here lie the barren lava fields, largely uninhabited but for the infrequent presence of ancestor shrines among the charred remains of Frostcoal copses. Looming over it all is the source of the Kushir, the so-called Mouth of Pyre itself: the towering volcano known as Khar-Ulan.

The fields at the base of Khar-Ulan are known as the Smoking Fields of the Eight. These fields are home to the Eight Tribes of Gab-Dragomir, some of the oldest and most powerful warbands on the face of Pyre. The Smoking Fields of the Eight are littered with small fire geysers, each with an ancestral shrine, complete with carved obsidian effigies of beloved fathers and mothers, marked with ash taken from Khar-Ulan himself.

Finally, I would tell you of the two locations that were beyond my privilege to witness, as a visitor — and, I’m told, beyond my ability to imagine. One site I was forbidden due to the prescriptions of sacredness established by the intuitive and animistic faith of the confederated Pyroi people. The second I was warned against because the chances of being captured, tortured, and enslaved were prohibitively high.

Journeying towards the edge of Pyre will take travelers's to two other remarkable locations. The first a sacred site for Pyroi Flamehearts. At the base of an innocuous fire pool near the edge of Pyre, on the outskirts of this simple pool, stands a remarkable formation, a colossal pillar of burning-heart tourmaline. The uncharacteristically smooth surface of this four-span thick obelisk has served for generations as the only written record of the realizations of the Pyroi Flamehearts. It is upon this Oathstone that the warrior-poet mystics who live outside of Pyroi society write the final verses of their lives. Indeed, the Oathstone of the Flamehearts is a flowing record of the glorious deaths of Pyre’s bravest mystics.

On the opposite edge of Pyre is the Slave Pits of Hykos, of which no Pyroi would rightly speak. Of the slave pits one Aurumel wrote that "the slavers of Hykos are the worst of us, and their sins are as numberless as the number of our vain Folk." This writing sparked an anti-slavery movement by some Pyroi Embertongue, which ultimately culminated in the edicts passed by Setsag last generation.