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“The slightest breeze stirs up a silvery pall of dust that clings to the surface like a fog. It becomes impossible to tell where the silt-laden air ends and the dustbed begins. When the wind blows more strongly, as it often does, the Sea of Silt becomes a boiling cloud of dust, the edges tinged with crimson sunlight. On such a day, a traveler near the sea cannot see more than a few feet in any direction. The dust coats his clothes, his face, the inside of his nose, and even his lungs. He cannot see the ground or the sky, and when he walks, his feet drag through inches of thick silt. He grows disoriented, and it becomes an easy matter for him to wander into the sea and disappear forever.”

- The Wanderer's Journal

The Sea of Silt is a great dust sink that extends for hundreds, perhaps thousands, of miles eastward from the shores of the Tyr Region. Long ago it was a great sea of water, vast and deep, but now the shore slopes down to meet what looks like an endless plain of gray dust. On a calm day, it seems that one could walk out onto the plain as if it were fine sand, but the silt is too light to support a human's weight and too deep to wade for any distance. The Sea of Silt is an impossible barrier to travel, passable only along its margins by silt skimmers or waders that remain in shallow dust.

In addition to natural hazards, those who brave the sea must contend with the monstrous creatures that dwell in and around the silt. Tentacled silt horrors prowl the deeps, and giants roam the shallows, walking on secret roads only they know. Even the islands in the Sea of Silt offer as much peril as safe haven. Their isolated locations make them ideal hideouts for unscrupulous types who don't want their activities to be observed, and the austerity of life on the islands turns many inhabitants to savagery. Like the Ringing Mountains to the west and the Southern Wastes to the south, the Sea of Silt forms one of the borders of the Tyr Region. For most people, the sea effectively marks the end of the world; no traveler has crossed its emptiness and returned to tell the tale. Attempts to circumnavigate the silt are likewise perilous – far to the north, a traveler faces impassable fjords and chains of active volcanoes that bar the way. To the south, the traveler ventures into desolate regions of salt flats and sandy wastes, bereft of life or shelter. In that direction, the sea appears to continue for thousands of miles without narrowing or coming to an end. It is a daunting barrier, to say the least. 

The Sea of Silt is a curious phenomenon. Once an ocean, it is now filled with fine gray powder as dry as sunparched bone. No one can explain why the silt persists instead of blowing away or slowly compacting into a firm gray plain – it's not natural for dust to behave in such a manner. Many Athasians assume that some dreadful magic transformed the seas to dust long ago, and they're not far from the mark. The Sea of Silt is a vast elemental intrusion into Athas, a region in which a great elemental power has subtly altered natural law, balancing air, earth, and water in a deviant fashion. In the Sea of Silt, dust coalesces and refuses to compact under its own weight. It remains light enough to rise in a wind-whipped haze that can cover nearby lands with fine gray grit, yet it trickles back down in time to rejoin the larger sea. Even if the silt blows into dust sinks many miles away, it retains these strange properties. Much of the Sea of Silt remains unexplored and unknown due to its sheer inaccessibility. Except for a few well-charted shoals, the largest silt skimmer can venture only a mile or two from shore. (Anyone who wants to venture farther out needs a means of flying or levitating.) Worse yet, long voyages up or down the coast offer little profit. Most of the reachable islands and mudflats are largely barren, and as far as anyone knows nothing but blasted wasteland, possibly teeming with flesh-eating monsters, awaits the bolder travelers.

Experienced silt travelers know that the greatest danger of the sea is not monsters, raiders, or drowning it is the insidious “disease” known as the Gray Death. When the hot, dry sirocco rises, it kicks up the top layer of fine gray powder and holds it aloft in a vast cloud. As creatures breathe this airborne dust, the moisture in their lungs and throat causes the silt to clump; a human can suffocate in a matter of hours. The surest protection against the Gray Death is to cover one's mouth and nose with a wet piece of silk or similar fine cloth.


Denizens of the Silt Sea

The silt has some indigenous plant life outside the mud flats. In regions of shallow silt (10' or less) the olom-reed flourishes. This hardy plant roots in the solid bottom of the silt basin and reaches up through the dust blanket to the sun. Its stem is strong and flexible, with a tassel of soft rushes at its top. Travellers welcome sight of the olom-reed because stands of hundreds of reeds may conceal a small spring or mud flat. Another plant, driftweed, is more common in the deep silt. This rootless network of thin, brittle branches is so light that it actually floats on the silt; it is one of the few substances able to do so. Driftweed is often carried hundreds of miles from the Sea by the worst dust storms. Despite the difficulty of survival in the silt, the basin is not uninhabited. Many creatures have adapted to life in the dust-flyers, floaters, and burrowers that can move in or over the silt. For them, the silt is not death; it is instead their home, their refuge from the predators of the tablelands, and their hunting ground. The creatures of the silt include countless varieties of small insects, bats, floaters, razorwings, and the different species of silt horrors. The small insects include dust beetles, mud wasps, tsek-flies, and silt spiders – all fascinating creatures and well adapted to their environment, but of little concern to the silt traveler. Floaters and razorwings are far more dangerous, often attacking humans near the sea. They are true silt creatures, perfectly adapted to their environment.

Many dangerous creatures use the silt as concealment as they stalk their prey. Some, like the silt horrors, can sense the vibrations or disturbances of the silt from a great range. Others rely on psionic detection of their prey. Sighted creatures such as humans or giants are at a great disadvantage in fighting off the attacks of the silt predators-the dust is impervious to any kind of vision, and a creature buried even a few inches cannot be detected by most humans. Hunting groups of black horrors range far across the shallows in their pursuit of prey, and the larger white, gray, and brown horrors are feared by all silt travelers. But in the deep silt, there are creatures from which even the silt-horrors flee. The mighty sink worms and silt drakes command the respect of the most powerful silt horror.

And the dreaded silt-vortex fears nothing that lives. Three different types of giants live in the isles of the shallow silt: desert, plains, and beasthead. In general, the desert giants prefer rocky isles; the plains giants live on scrub isles. Beasthead giants are found on any kind of island. Usually only one variety of giant lives on a given island, although Lake Island and Waverly support several different giant clans. Giants have a bad reputation in other parts of the Tyr region, but they are really not all bad. Just like humans and most other races, there are good and evil giants. Many isolated giants delight in company – provided the visitor does not invade without permission. The exceptions to this are the beasthead giants, who tend to be far crueler and less hospitable than their cousins. Human and dwarf villages lie along the shore or on isles just offshore. These hardy folk have devised means of crossing the shallow silt and often operate ferries across the silt estuaries or conduct trade up and down the coast. The mud flats and rocky tors dotting the silt also provide homes for one of the greatest dangers of the Sea: airborne predators. A few rare rocs and cloud rays have, over the course of generations, overcome their fear of flying over the open silt and now range far across the dusty plain, seeking prey. A full-grown roc can capture creatures as large as a young sink worm and carry them off as a meal. Some travelers have encountered powerful roc-riders far out in the deep silt. They believe there may be a hidden village in the center of the Sea, far beyond the knowledge of sages.