Timanduk

Kaylahon
Golden light filters through the verdant canopies as you walk the city streets, and when you close your eyes, it’s like you can feel the pulse of the earth itself. Above you, in the wooden houses nestled in the forest’s boughs; around you, in the smell of seawater washing over you from the nearby shores; beneath you, in the distant rumble of an ancient volcano—here, the spirits move in time with the bustle of the crowds.

And you remember, like a whisper on the wind, that there is more to this world than just what your mortal eyes can see.

A shout rises up in the distance. New traders on the horizon, someone cries, and immediately, prayers ring out amidst the city. Gifts of gratitude to the generous sea for carrying them to our island safely, hopeful utterances that Nulkab will bless the farmers with a surplus of crops to trade. You look to the branches above, and out of the corner of your eye, you catch the wise face of a python, nodding its approval over you before slithering back into the shadows of the spirit world.

You are in Kaylahon, the pride of Timanduk.