Silvertide Plains

To the west of the continent’s central drylands stretch the Silvertide Plains, a realm of sun-baked earth and silence broken only by the wind’s whisper through brittle grass. Despite their name, the plains carry no true silver—only the illusion of it, as the heat plays tricks upon the horizon and the land glimmers with false water and faint light.   This region is one of the most inhospitable in Elysoria. The soil is dry and cracked, pierced only by tough-rooted scrub and thornbush. Rain comes rarely and vanishes quickly. Surface water is nearly nonexistent, and few dare to linger long. Still, life endures.   The Dustskipper Jerboa darts between shaded crevices, leaping like a spark across stone. The Silvertail Kangaroo Rat, almost ghostly in motion, harvests seeds and moisture from the cool of night. Above, the Sandsweep Vulture sails wide circles, keeping watch for missteps, sickness, or solitude.   The plains are unclaimed, unwanted, and rarely crossed. Caravans detour far around them. Maps show only suggestion and rumor—dashed lines, vague markers, and ancient names barely remembered. Only the wind truly knows the full shape of the Silvertide Plains, and it is not inclined to share.