“Salt stings because it cleans. The sea doesn’t hate you—it just refuses to lie.”
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In the hydra-hide halls of Zharessin Oasis, brass dragonborn Bharash Kilnbrand smelts desert ironstone with his own breath and fits every weapon to the hand that will carry it. He stands behind everything he sells.
Every night the wind howls past the black rock ring around Zharessin Oasis, and Oshenne Zephrain, an air genasi elder of the council of shamans, tilts her head and listens. She gives the sound first, what she thinks it asked second, and never claims to know who is speaking.
Rhazik Skyscale is the bronze dragonborn chieftain of Zharessin Oasis, a calm, unhurried leader who keeps the desert's peace by listening first. He receives every guest seated, and he is far more dangerous than he lets anyone see.
