authoring destruction

Now here, here was a thing that made me want to return to the desert; to my desert. The Western Clathe Dunesea, that lays beyond a region of Clathir called the Mouth of Hell, West of the mountains, west of the great city Castiin which knows no rest for it has both a diurnal face and a nocturnal face to smile on the many different peoples that assemble there to trade. Bearing ever westward, ever into the inferno of the rising sun.

I am not a native of that hard, bright land. Sometimes, I wish I were... its scions are a brave and powerful people, a bloodline I would be proud to claim my own. Where I was born bears little consequence; I have not returned to that place for decades and do not care to.

(So many questions -.-)