The obsidian wastes

The wastes stretched endlessly before her, a desolation where hope went to die. Eira stumbled, her boots shredded by the unforgiving shards of black glass. The air clung to her throat, thick with ash and despair.
She’d fled the city, desperate to escape debts and betrayal, beckoned by tales of treasure. But the Wastes offered no solace. Hunger gnawed at her insides, and the jagged glass mocked her every step. Eira’s water flask was empty, and her lips cracked from thirst.
The volcanoes loomed over her, their fiery maws hungry. Eira had heard tales of a hidden oasis—a mirage, perhaps—but she clung to the hope. Her vision blurred, and she sank to her knees. The shards bit into her flesh, drawing crimson lines.
“Please,” she whispered to the land. “I’ll give anything.”
But there was no answer. Eira crawled onwards, her fingers leaving smudged trails of blood on the obsidian. Instead, the ground trembled, and molten lava flowed like tears. As blistering heat seared her skin, she wept her own and closed her eyes.

Known also as the Obsidian wastes or simply “the Wastes,” this is a land of relentless fury and inhospitable conditions not meant for mortal folk. Whether you seek to mine the coveted Kaharan Obsidian, search for gemstones or are merely traversing this bleak expanse, understanding its many perils is paramount to your survival.

Geographical Overview

The Obsidian Wastes sprawl across a vast expanse of the western continent, forged by volcanic fury and primal forces. Here, even the earth wears a cloak of sorrow - a layer of black glass and white ash, stretching as far as the eye can see. The glass reflects no light; it absorbs it, as if the land itself mourns its own existence.
Above, the sky is a brooding canvas - a grim blanket of swirling soot. The sun, if it exists beyond this murky expanse, is swallowed by ash and smoke. Stars are but distant memories, obscured by an ashen veil drawn tight. The twin silver moons, when they dare to peek through the roiling clouds, appear only as pale specters, their hopeful glow feeble against the encroaching twilight.

The air hangs heavy with ash, a white shroud that muffles all sounds and blurs the sharpest vision. Should the winds stir, deadly dust storms howl down from the mountains to assail the living, stinging eyes and clogging lungs with fine ash. Visibility dwindles to mere inches, and desperate travelers wrap themselves in thick cloaks and masks, huddling in whatever shelter they can find.Those caught unprepared risk losing their way or worse - their very lives upon the jagged, sharp rocks of obsidian.
To wander these wastelands is to court fate - every step a dance upon a shattered mirror. The ground, brittle and unforgiving, crunches underfoot, coated with a fine layer of black glass and ashen whispers. Each arduous step, however cautious and deliberate it may be, threatens to pierce through all but the sturdiest boots, as if the very ground thirsts for blood. Many a foolhardy adventurer has underestimated these treacherous terrains, only to meet their demise to a death of thousand cuts.
But the perils of these desolate lands extend far beyond mere storms and stones. Guarding these twilight wastelands stand towering sentinels - mountains of roaring fire and fury, their blazing breath breaking through the twilight with malevolent glow. The air on their ashen crowns hangs heavy with sulfur and ash - a fuming miasma that chokes throats and hopes alike. From the smoldering maws of these volcanic behemoths spew forth molten chunks and rivers of searing lava. These fiery torrents devour all in their path, leaving nothing but scorched earth and blistered memories in their wake.
In these forsaken lands, even the horizon mocks the weary, desperate traveler. Standing atop a glassy ridge, there is no verdant promise, no distant oasis. Only more obsidian, stretching as far as the eye can see.

Flora and Fauna

Life is scarce in this forbidding place, but a few hardy species have adapted to survive. Among them are a variety of obsidian beetles, their exoskeletons as black and hard as the land they inhabit. These beetles scuttle over the cooled lava tubes, feeding on the occasional tufts of fire-resistant moss and lichen that cling to the sides of the tubes. When food is scarce, they turn on each other in a bitter struggle for survival.

Roaming the lands are small herds of armored lizards that slowly make their way through th wastes in search of lichens and insects, ash-covered wanderers of tooth and scale. Highly territorial and the size of a large dog or even a horse, they defend their meager pickings with aggression and fury born from desperation- approaching them is fraught with peril, as their powerful tails and sharp claws can inflict serious harm.

Whispered rumors also speak of larger, more monstrous creatures, such as the white wyrms—subterranean beasts that burrow through the black glass in search of prey. These creatures are said to be attracted to the slightest tremors, sensing vibrations through the ground with uncanny precision.
However, no such creature has ever been observed and recorded, leaving their existence shrouded in mystery. Some say they are merely legends, tales spun to keep the curious away from the most dangerous parts of the Wastes.

Population:

"Lost to the black lands"

A kaharan saying for a hopeless situation

Largely uninhabited, the Obsidian Wastes nonetheless have born witness to countless tragedies. The howling wind carries screaming whispers—lamentations of lost souls, tales of explorers who vanished without a trace or just outright, primal fury.

Few people dare to live here - even fewer stay willingly. Among those are the miners, providing Ri'kahar with the ingredients for kaharan obsidian Work in the obsidian quarry is hard and exceedingly dangerous, even if the material is well worth the danger. These quarries are mostly located at the edges of the wasteland for easy access - building and maintaining even the small paths for the royal caravans is a dangerous and neverending task.

Then there are the adventurers and treasure seekers. Lured by tales of hidden riches, driven to seek out the secrets of this inhospitable place, they search for Shi'dira or the remnants of long-lost civilizations that might lie beneath the surface, sealed away forever in a dark sea of glass. To this day, not the slightest trace has been found, but these lands are as vast as they are dangerous.

And so, their search continues - but of all those who head out into the wastes, few return to see the sun again. Some succumb to the most insidious danger of the wastes - a plague of the mind, the obsidian curse known as "The Wandering". But most of those who dare to venture out into the wastes vanish forever, swallowed by the black glass, never to be seen again, their memory cloaked in a funeral shroud of ash.

Arm yourself with knowledge, my friend, make your peace with whatever gods you believe in and never, ever underestimate the lands wrath – for those who tread carelessly here find themselves as just another story lost to the black glass.

Ri'sha Dakir, Ashwalker

Shi'dira

Near the ashen crowns of the raging volcanoes, adventurers can stumble upon round, sharply edged rocks of obsidian, fallen from the sky like fiery comets.
Their surfaces, obsidian black and cracked by heat, glint with razorsharp and jagged edges.
Inside this rugged exterior however hides the promise of hidden riches. Gemstones—rubies, sapphires, even diamonds - are nestled within the Shi’dira’s crevices like seeds in a pomegranate. While only a very few of them are blessed this way, most just hold hollow promises. Daring and desperate souls risk life and limb to extract these treasures, scaling the volcanoes for a chance to find one . Those who survive the ascent - bruised, bloodied, and half-blinded— chip away with worn hammers at the unforgiving rocks. Only few of those souls make the descent triumphantly, clutching gemstones that shimmer like captured stars

In the shadow of erupting volcanoes, those desperate treasure seekers gather. They form groups, share tales of lost comrades, and dream of riches untold. But greed has a price, and the wastes demand their toll.

Survive the wastes

Dearest friends, if you are sure that your journeys are to take you into the Obsidian Wastes, I implore you by the light of the moons, heed my words - your very survival might depend on it.

Invest in the sturdiest footwear and clothing available. Incorporate layers capable of resisting the sharp bite of obsidian.

Use cloth masks or shawls to avoid inhaling the suffocating ash.

Bring a wayfinder lodestone and the best map you can buy.

Carry ample supplies, particularly water, as the opressing heat and ash will quickly dehydrate you.

Keep a keen eye and ear out for any signs of impending volcanic activity. Learn to recognize tremors and run - fast!

Traveling in numbers will enhance your chances and help avoiding the insidious obsidian curse.