Sitaar

The dunes and cliffs of Sitaar are harsh but beautiful with pink, white, and red sands. Most of the lands beyond the cities are devoid of human civilization aside from the caravans, nomadic tribes, and occasional Ziin'ellar. Three major rivers cut their way from Zeder, Gehnnia, and the unclaimed lands, through Sitaar, before merging into one and flowing out to the Mage Kingdoms and beyond. Where the three rivers meet in a shallow basin is where the ancients built the capital, Mahd Alhadara.  

Mahd Alhadara

One of the most populated cities in the world, it is both an ancient marvel and modern metropolis. Built upon man-made islands, the city is a maze of streets and waterways, which are kept meticulously clean. The tiers and bridges soar between domed buildings of glimmering white stone capped with bronze. In the center of the city are the five Elemental Ziggurats. The four exterior are temples run by priests and sorcerers dedicated to the divine elements of fire, metal, shadow, and water, while the center is the palace of the Malik and the temple of light. The top tiers of the central ziggurat are made of milky glass, so that when the sun hits it, it can be seen as a beacon for miles around.   They say there is no poverty in Mahd Alhadara, only the wealthy and their slaves. Women and men wear fine silks and jeweled slippers, both wear their hair long and scented with sweet almond oils. Most do not walk the streets but prefer to be carried in palanquins or float the canals in decorated boats. The city is filled with the thick aromas of spiced food, cooking meat, and perfumed oils. The food tends either towards spicy or sweet, though sometimes both.   Due to their trade with many distant kingdoms, the people of Sitaar have easy access to such exotic things as sugar, and many develop quite a fondness for sweets. Honeyed dates and chipped ice flavored with sweet syrups are a common street food favored by locals. When they are abroad, Sitaarians tend to be suspicious if not outright hostile, but at home, they are the picture of friendly hospitality. The laws of the land forbid anyone to turn away a traveler in need, especially out in the desert.  

The Settlements of Sitaar

Sidilkah, the City of the Salt King

At the edge of the glassy shores of the Inland Sea, Sidilkah is a city built upon salt and silver. Its mines stretch deep into the rock, producing crystalline salt coveted across the world. The Salt King rules in near independence from the Crowned Prince, for he commands a vast private army of indentured miners and mercenaries paid in silver ingots stamped with his sigil—the Crooked Eye. Sidilkah’s white-stone towers gleam under the desert sun, but beneath its streets, the forgotten wretches who labor in the mines tell of something old watching them from the deep.  

Akorut, Fortress of Trade

Perched at the mouth of the great Zafaa River, where the desert meets the vast turquoise expanse of the Mournful Sea, Akorut is both a fortress and a merchant’s paradise. Towering walls of black basalt loom over the docks, where merchant ships from distant lands unload silks, spices, and strange relics. It is the beating heart of Sitaar’s trade and the stronghold of the Tujaar Alrabie, the most powerful merchant guild in the kingdom. These traders hold more sway than kings in their city, and though the Malik claims dominion over Akorut, it is whispered that silver buys more loyalty here than blood.   Beneath the bustling markets and resplendent villas, Akorut hides its darker side. Slave auctions are held in moonlit chambers, where rare and exotic captives are bought for pleasure, labor, or darker purposes. The guild keeps a stranglehold on its rivals, and those who cross them have a way of vanishing—dragged to the depths of the harbor, their lungs filled with salt water and their pockets stuffed with broken glass, a warning to those who would defy the Tujaar Alrabie.  

Zasameru, the City of Dreams

Zasameru is a place of golden lanterns and whispered prayers, where the river cuts through the desert like a knife of jade, and where opium dens and perfumed pleasure-houses stand alongside temples of silent monks. The Dream Singers, a cabal of sorcerers feared even in Mahd Alhadara, make their home here, weaving illusions so potent that dreamers awaken with their veins laced in gold—or their eyes filled with sand. Some say the Singers do not dream, only steal the dreams of others, drinking deep from the minds of kings and paupers alike.  

Djede, the Forgotten Spire

A ruin more than a city, Djede is what remains of a long-dead kingdom swallowed by the sands. The great spire at its heart is older than Sitaar itself, carved from a single block of black stone that neither wind nor time can wear down. The locals speak of ghostly figures that gather at its summit during the blackest nights, whispering in a tongue none should remember. The Malik forbids any excavation of Djede, but the Tujaar Alrabie have long sought to uncover its secrets.  

Traditions & Culture

The Trial of the Burning Sands

A rite of passage among the nobility, young warriors are cast into the desert with nothing but a waterskin and a dagger. They must return with a lion’s tooth, proof that they have slain the great beasts of the dunes. Those who return without one are forbidden to bear a sword, their names spoken in shame. Those who do not return at all are simply forgotten.  

The Dance of Knives

At feasts in Mahd Alhadara, the finest dancers of the kingdom wield curved daggers and perform the Raqs Alshuhra, the Dance of Knives. But this is no mere display—among the nobility, it is a silent language of veiled threats and political maneuvering. To have a dancer pause before a noble’s table and let the knife hover at their throat is both a promise of death and an invitation to parley.  

The Veil of the Dead

It is forbidden for the dead to see the sky. Funerals are held at night, the bodies wrapped in golden silk and carried underground to be buried beneath the city. It is said that should a corpse be left to rot in the open, its soul will never find rest.  

The Djinn: Lords of Wind and Shadow

To speak of the Djinn is to invite their gaze. They are both feared and revered, for they are not gods, but something older—spirits of shifting sand, of fire without warmth, of whispers that creep into the minds of the desperate. They can be bargained with, but their gifts always come at a cost.   The people of Sitaar leave offerings in the wind-carved caves at the edge of the dunes: bowls of milk, silver rings, a single drop of blood. Some say the Djinn walk among the living, their forms hidden beneath cloaks of dust, their eyes gleaming like dying embers.   And some say the Djinn have already chosen the True King.  

Festivals of Sitaar

The Night of a Thousand Lanterns

On the longest night of the year, the people of Sitaar light lanterns of colored glass and set them adrift on the Zafaa River, each carrying a whispered wish. The merchants pray for wealth, the slaves for freedom, the nobles for power. But some lanterns are never seen again. The river swallows them, as if some unseen force has taken its due.  

The Hunt of the Veil

Once a sport of the old kings, now a festival of blood. A condemned criminal is released into the desert with a single waterskin and a blade. Warriors, nobles, and mercenaries ride out after them, masked and veiled, armed with scimitars and bows. If the hunted survives until dawn, they are granted freedom. If they are caught, their head is mounted upon a pike outside the city gates.   The Ziin’ellar remember a time when this was a rite of honor, a test of skill among their kind. Now, it is a spectacle for the masses, a mockery of the Hunt they once lived for.  

Food & Fashion

Food

Sitaarians love excess, and their cuisine is no exception. Meat is roasted in spiced honey glazes, layered with dried fruits and nuts, and served on silver trays with gilded edges. Sweetened yogurt and saffron rice are staples at noble tables, while the poor make do with flatbreads dipped in date syrup. The highest delicacy is Flesh of the Moon, a rare white fish caught from the underground lakes of Mahd Alhadara, seasoned with salt from Sidilkah and served raw over frozen rose water.  

Fashion

Sitaarians dress in flowing robes of silk and brocade, woven with threads of gold. Their hair is perfumed with almond oil, and their hands are dyed with henna depicting their lineage in twisting, serpentine patterns. The nobility favor translucent veils woven with silver filigree, while the merchant class adorn themselves with heavy necklaces of coin and turquoise.

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