Vast and lonely is the ocean, and even as all things came from it, so shall they return thereto. In the shrouded depths of time none shall reign upon the earth, nor shall any motion be, save in the eternal waters. And these shall beat on dark shores in thunderous foam, though none shall remain in that dying world to watch the cold light of the enfeebled moon playing on the swirling tides and coarse-grained sand. On the deep’s margin shall rest only a stagnant foam, gathering about the shells and bones of perished shapes that dwelt within the waters. Silent, flabby things will toss and roll along empty shores, their sluggish life extinct. Then all shall be dark, for at last even the white moon on the distant waves shall wink out. Nothing shall be left, neither above nor below the sombre waters. And until that last millennium, as after it, the sea will thunder and toss throughout the dismal night.
-Translated excerpt from the Sito-DagonFew outsiders ever set foot on the rocky shores of Kharkoli. To most it's little more than a sailor's tale, a blighted island far to the north, surrounded by treacherous waters and inhabited by blood-drinking devil worshippers. Anyone who's ever been to a tavern in a port city has likely heard a tale or two of Kharkoli and its people, and none are ever positive. The truth is rather far from the lurid stories cooked up by intoxicated sailors.
Rumors abound as to the true nature of the strange human inhabitants of Kharkoli. Few are ever found outside the confines of their island home, and most that are never travel more than a few miles inland on Adunorh. What is known as fact is that they are expert sailors and skindivers, more at home on the ocean than they are on dry land. Also notable is their singularly bizarre appearance. Their skin is disturbingly pale, like that of a corpse that has been left to sit underwater for too long, and their faces are sharply featured with deep-set, bulbous eyes like those of a fish. Indeed, most who see a Kharkolian would say they look like someone added a drop of fishblood to regular human stock They are highly distrusted , and for this reason many Kharkolians are just as distrustful of outsiders.
Geography and EnvironmentKharkoli is perpetually wreathed in churning storms that make access to the island difficult, if not nearly impossible, for all but the most skilled of sailors. However, as one makes it closer to the island the storms begin to abate, leaving the frigid water calmer and suitable for fishing and diving. The island itself is best described as a rock, permanently cold, grey, windswept, rainy, prone to flooding, and possessed of an immensely unsettling atmosphere. Inhospitable, to say the least. Few animals but the gulls and albatrosses call this island home, and most plants that grow are stunted bushes and hardy grasses. What few trees that grow there are carefully cultivated by the Kharkolians for the construction of fishing skiffs. This lack of wood means that many Kharkolian buildings are hewn from the rock of the island itself or constructed using bricks made of mud dredged from the ocean floor.
The Sunken City
The largest settlement on the island is known as the Sunken City, a sprawling town built in the ruins of an antediluvian settlement built by inhuman hands